Sorting day has arrived again, and just like the previous year, Eva Fallon comes to the platform with some of her children. This time, her brother’s oldest son, Parker is starting as well as one of her own, Charlotte. Josie and Essie are the first through the barrier, in that order, followed by Parker – who just couldn’t wait. Charlotte came next, then Freddie Wexler, then his wife. Tom, Eva‘s husband was next, followed finally by Eva. “Please stay close, kids! Let’s make sure everything’s here…” Eva trails off as the four kids flock next to the train, talking excitedly among themselves. She sighs and shakes her head.

“Isn’t the train amazing?” Josie exclaims as she takes Charlotte by the hand, running close to it. “We’ll get on the train and then it will take us to Hogwarts. I think you’ll be in Ravenclaw with me, just like mummy was.” The girl nods enthusiastically to her sister, looking to Essie for affirmation. “Mummy, mummy, Charlotte is going to be in Ravenclaw, right? Right?” the girl shouts to her mother, bouncing slightly in anticipation.

Clinging to her mother closely, Danielle is a picture of mixed emotions. There’s tears in the corners of her eyes and she sniffles from time to time, her arms wrapped tightly around her mother’s waist. Despite this, though, her eyes are widen and focused on the crowd in front of her, drifting from group to group, and her mouth falls open as she notices owls, cats, large trunks and laughing students in varying kinds of flashy garb. Her mother is fussing over her hair and smoothing it into place and looks incredibly anxious; her father stands by, looking stern and wooden.

“Josephine Elizabeth Wexler, come back here now,” Eva calls to the girl. “Estelle Bidelia Wexler, you, too. What did I tell you about running off?” The woman taps her foot for a moment before murmuring something to her husband and shaking her head. The two oldest girls walk dutifully back toward their mother, their cheeks slightly red at being chastised. Parker and Charlotte come slowly back toward their family members, looking around with interest at everything happening on the platform. It is then that Eva notices the family just nearby to them, with the little girl who looks slightly overwhelmed. Grinning sympathetically, Eva leans over to the mother. “First year?” she asks quietly. “My Charlotte here is a first year, too,” she tells the other woman, gesturing vaguely to the girl in question.

“Does the hat really chew on your head if you’re not easy enough to sort?” Parker asks loudly as he returns to his family slowly. “One of the boys at Madame Malkin’s told me that it chews on you. Can I ask it to stop if I don’t like it?” He looks up at his mother, who smooths his unruly hair down. “Can I, mum?” She merely chuckles and smiles to Freddie without answering the boy’s question. Freddie’s eyes twinkle with mischeif as he tousles the boy’s hair, which prompts his mother to smooth it down once more. “What? Can’t I?”

Although the mother seems a little suspicious of Eva and her children, Danielle takes the opportunity to study Charlotte and Parker intently with wide eyes, though she doesn’t move away or even loosen her grip on her mother. Eventually, Juliette reaches out delicately with one hand, the other one still on her child’s head, although now she pulls her protectively closer, and remarks in a low voice, with just a slight French accent, “I don’t know how any of… you people handle it.”

Seraphina Pryor is a sixth year – almost at the top of the hill! She feels fairly proud as she emerges from the barrier, intent on getting onto the train as quickly as possible. Her sister and father follow her through so quickly that Alastriona runs smack into her. “Watch where you’re going,” she mutters at her sister, who then attaches herself to her sister’s arm. “Let’s sit together!” the girl squeals to her older sister. “‘Ona, don’t you have friends you’d rather sit with?” she asks in an exasperated tone. “I’m going to sit with Otto. Look, there’s Flossie – go talk to her.” With that, Alastriona takes off running and laughing as she spots one of her friends and Seraphina breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m going to go get onto the train,” she tells her father. “I’ll owl you once I’m settled into my NEWT classes.” With that, she makes her way toward the train, not in any particular hurry.

Eva Fallon quirks her head in slight confusion. “Handle what? Our children going off to school? It’s difficult to let go at first, but it’s so good for them. Josie and Essie,” she gestures to the two girls who are talking quietly to one another and giggling, “started last year and they’ve become incredibly self-assured and self-reliant in that time. I think it has been very good for them.” Eva smiles, though not quite as genuinely as the first time. “What’s your name?” she asks, directing the question to the girl.

Finally realizing that he will get no answer to his question from his parents, Parker directs his attention to those nearby. He studies Danielle quickly as she seems to be studying him, and interrupting his aunt (without really realizing it), he puts his hand out. “I’m Parker,” he tells her with absolutely no volume control.

“Danielle,” the small girl volunteers, though she still doesn’t pull away from her mother; a moment later, the older woman prompts her, and she lets go with one arm, holding out her hand in a neat, polite greeting to Eva. Her mother studies Eva for a moment uncertainly, though, before shaking her head and clarifying, “Goodness no, Alexis, Cyril and Dominic are already off at their schools… but this is all new, this experience.” She eyes Eva for a moment longer before adding, “But I can see you’re used to that.” Danielle, on the other hand, pokes her tongue out at Parker’s loudness.

Not quite sure what the woman is getting at, Eva just smiles and merely nods. “Well, I’m sure she’ll love it at Hogwarts. I certainly did,” Eva sighs a bit and looks at Tommy, then to the children. “Alright, alright, you all may go to the train now. Find your compartments,” she tells the children, particularly her twins, who take that moment to squeal and skip toward the train. “Parker, you stay with Charlotte. You two need to stick together!” his father directs him.

“What compartment should we sit in?” Josie asks her sister, turning and skipping backwards for a moment as she looks back toward her younger sister and cousin and the stranger girl with whom her family is interacting. “Come on, you lot!” she calls to them, turning around again and stopping near the entrance to the train. “The third compartment!” Essie declares. “Three is a very good number.” The girls giggle as if laughing at an inside joke while they wait for the other children to join them.

Parker Wexler gasps loudly. “Dad, she stuck her tongue out at me!” the boy tattles, frowning at her and crossing his arms. “That’s not very nice, Danielle,” he tells her with a failed attempt at disdain. “I’m going to be a Gryffindor like my dad, so you better not be one, too, if you’re going to be like that. “Parker!” three adults call all at once and the boy flushes deep red, still frowning at Danielle. “You’re not very nice,” he says more quietly, in hopes that the grownups won’t hear him.

As Eva instructs her children to go to the train, Danielle pulls her hand back and wraps her arms all the more tightly around her mother. “Is it time?” She asks softly, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she grabs at her mother. The only instruction given to her in return is, “You don’t want to be late…” before she’s pulled aside from the group and what seems to be a lecture starts – quiet, so as not to unduly embarass her, but loud enough that someone nearby could certinly catch snippets – ‘no lying’, ‘best behaviour’, ‘pull you out by your braids if necessary’, punctuated by first tears, then sobs, then a messy hug between all three family members before the eleven year old pulls herself together, wipes her nose and eyes on the sleeve of her dress, then stumbles towards the train, sniffing and trying to stop her emotions showing TOO much.

“Oh my goodness gracious me!” Alastriona Pryor bounces away from her sister, and spins in wide circle towards her friend Flossie. “Can you believe it’s another year! Another summer come and gone and sooooo much news!” She presses her lips together and smoothes her static-y red hair. “Come dear Flossie! I will tell you all about it!! It’s extraordinary, really! I’m certain–” she glances around and then stops talking. “I’ll tell you on the train, these things need to remain secrets from wandering ears. . .” Mischieviously she smirks at her friend, and locks arms together.

“Okay, girls, come say goodbye!” the woman calls to her daughters, making her way toward her daughters who are just about to board the train. “I’ll see you at Christmas holiday,” she tells her daughters. “Come on, Charlotte, join your sisters!” Charlotte glances at Danielle with a shy smile before she joins her mother near the door to the train. Parker follows, also glancing at Danielle, but with far more suspicion in his face as he keeps up with his cousins. “Bye Mum! Bye Dad!” he calls to his parents, and in an energetic bound, he’s the first of his cousins to board the train. “Be good, study hard and write often. Send an owl tonight – I want to know what house Charlotte is sorted into.” Eva smiles somewhat wistfully as she steps back to where her husband, brother and sister-in-law are standing. She waves to the small Wexlers as they bound onto the train after Parker.

Parker was the first onto the train, and he’s the first into a compartment. He dashes first into compartment one, but finds a much older student already sitting inside, so he quickly exits it without a word, then dashes into the next compartment down the way – the one marked with a “3″. Finding it empty, the boy quickly plops into the seat nearest to the door, hanging his head out of the compartment as he watches for his cousins. When he spots them, he shouts. “Hey, down here!” he yells to them, waving enthusiastically and nearly hitting a few older students in the process.

A few moments afterwards, Danielle flounces into the carriage and scowls at Parker. Her eyes are red from crying, but she seems to have pushed back all her tears for now, and is more focused on the other people in the room. “You can’t just tell on me for sticking my tongue out, that’s not against the rules.” A pause and then, “I bet it doesn’t say it anywhere in the school rulebook. Be pretty funny if it did.” And then, a moment later, a small curtsey. “I’m Danielle.” She’s very careful to only pronounce it with two syllables.

Pulling Flossie to the third compartment, Alastriona giggles along with her friend at the latest bit of news she’s relayed. “I mean really who would believe that?! Just silly people, that’s who. Or those in institutions. . . or St. Mungos–” she glances around and lowers her voice (but probably not low enough that others in the compartment can’t hear, “–I once overheard some people Daddy was talking to say that some terrible things were done to those that find themselves there. . . at least most of the time. . . they probably still deal with the occasional small issue. . . like . . .” thinking of no other ailments, Alastriona finally scrunches her nose and thinks of the only ailment she can think of off the top of her head, “. . .lice.” Flossie shakes her head in disagreement. Deciding that this would be a wonderful debate for the train ride, Alastriona and her friend finally sit down, and she asks to no one in particular, “Do you think St. Mungo’s Healers could cure lice?”

Josie, Essie and Charlotte follow down the corridor and join Parker in the third compartment. “See, I told you the train was great!” Josie tells her cousins proudly as she sits down by the window. The four Wexlers take up one side of the compartment, and Josie smiles to Danielle. “Isn’t this great?” she asks the girl, not taking notice of the tears. Charlotte, however, is slightly more perceptive than her older sister and furrows her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” the Wexler girl asks before Parker interrupts her. “I told my parents, and you can’t even imagine what they would have done. It’s just that your mum was there and they didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” the boy argues.

“Who has lice?” Parker asks loudly, his eyes growing wide at the older girl opposite. “Who are you? My name’s Parker Wexler. My dad writes for the Daily Prophet!” he boasts proudly. “And my auntie Eva owns a candy shop? Isn’t that so great? Josie and Essie and Charlotte get to go there all the time because my auntie Eva is their mum. Great, right?” Parker beams at the older girls, paying no mind to the fact that he has actually interrupted their conversation.

“Oh no, no one has lice, just hypothetically if someone did, do you think St. Mungo’s healers could fix them up?” Alastriona corrects and then asks. She smoothes her hair again and then frowns a bit at the introduction, “I don’t believe in calling people with first names by names that sound like lastnames. So. . . this presents us with a problem.” She frowns slightly. “What’s your middle name? I can maybe call you that!” She offers a hopeful smile. “Oh! How rude of me! I’m Alastriona Pryor! And this is my friend Flossie. Her real name is Locke. True story.” Flossie nods a bit fleetingly, but before she can say anything, Alastriona continues to talk for both of them, “That must be amazing to have all of that access to the candy! Everyone likes candy . . . I don’t think I’ve met anyone who says ‘I don’t like candy.’ Those are the kinds of people I was talking about earlier, Flossie! The candy haters who go to Azkaban . . .” She nods decidedly, certain that Dark Wizards dislike candy.

Scowling all the more at Parker, Danielle seems not to notice Charlotte’s question for a moment. When she does acknowledge the other girl, it’s with a whiny, sullen, “I’ll be okay.” There’s a moment of silence from her before she sits down and adds, “It’s – all very new for me,” she tells Charlotte, her voice raised slightly so as to speak over Parker, shooting him another nasty look. “I mean…” she stumbles over her words for a moment, before she continues, “because I’m new… in England. Great Britain, actually. I haven’t been here very long.”

“I’ve seen you before,” Josie tells the older girl with a beaming smile. “I’m Josie Wexler. Parker’s my cousin. Don’t mind him, he doesn’t think before he talks.” She giggles a bit. “This is my sister Essie, and that’s Charlotte. She’s my sister, too.” Josie nods and giggles at Ona’s comments regarding candy. “That’s very true. Anyone who doesn’t like candy is not my friend,” The girl states emphatically and smiles broadly. “I’m a Ravenclaw. You must not be a Ravenclaw or I would have seen you in the commonroom.”

Climbing over his cousins to get to the window seat, Parker steps on toes and kicks people accidentally as he tries to get into the miniscule space left by the window. “Move over,” he whines at his cousins who comply without much complaint past the kicks and smashed toes. “Look at how fast we’re going…” the boy starts staring out the window, only looking back when something in the conversation going on around him catches his attention.

Charlotte nods and yelping only briefly as Parker steps full on her foot, she smiles to Danielle. “I’ve never been to Hogwarts yet, either. My sisters say it’s really fun but kind of hard work. I guess magic is harder than it looks. Mum makes it look so simple.” She pauses. “I have some sweets that mum gave me. Do you want to share?” She asks, pulling a purple and blue striped bag out of a deep pocket at her side. Glancing around the compartment, she breathes in quickly, then gets up and moves across the compartment to sit next to Danielle rather than next to Parker.

“Well, Flossie and I are Gryffindors,” Alastriona says with a twinkle in her eye. “We have lots of friends from other houses.” She offers a bright smile. “It’s great to meet you! What year are you in? Flossie and I are in our third year!” Flossie opens her mouth to introduce herself, but Alastriona once again spouts some random information, “Well anyone who doesn’t like candy probably has no friends. I was talking to Flossie about people in Azkaban. I’m convinced that lack of sugar put them there in the first place, so all people must have sugar and those that don’t are to be considered . . . ” she lowers her voice again. “. . . suspicious. . .” she glances left and then right. And then Parker kicks her accidently, and while it doesn’t hurt, being somewhat of a drama queen she says, with much emphasis, “OW.”

Although she seems unimpressed that Parker is still getting more overall attention than she is, Danielle does seem to latch onto Charlotte as she addresses her, though she wrinkles her nose and shakes her head slightly at the offer. “No, I was saying I’m only new to Great Britain… oh, I don’t suppose it matters.” There’s a hesitant pause and then, “I’m sure magic is quite easy really… but, uh, no magic candy for me, thank you.” She laughs, lightly, but it’s a little forced.

“I’m a second year now! Essie’s a Hufflepuff, though, not a Ravenclaw. The hat didn’t sort us together.” Sadness briefly crosses Josie‘s face as she remembers the fact, but she quickly rebounds. “They are kind of susp— OW, Parker, watch it!” the girl exclaims and shakes her head. “What classes are you taking this year? You get to pick new ones, right? I can’t wait to pick out new classes. I want to take music, but I don’t know what else I should take.” She pauses. “Oh, sweets! Mum gave us some for the trip. Do you want some? They’re from mummy’s shop in Diagon Alley.” Josie reaches into her own pocket to draw out the large bag of sweets, offering some of hers to the older girls across from her.

“Oh, where did you live before you came to Great Britain?” Charlotte asks Danielle cheerfully. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I was born in Hogsmeade when mum co-owned Honeydukes – that’s another candy shop, you know. We moved to London when I was very small, though. I like it there. There’s so much going on. Are you sure you won’t have any?” she asks politely, drawing out a peppermint toad and nibbling it slowly. Parker pays attention again as Josie exclaims in pain. “What?” he asks, cluelessly. “What’d I do? Oh, sweets!” he remembers, pulling his own bag of sweets out of his pocket and pops a fizzing whizzbee into his mouth, giggling loudly as the fireworks begin in his mouth, a few escaping into the air in front of him as he laughs, coming out in shining sparks.

Alastriona Pryor arches an eyebrow at Danielle’s refusal of candy, and of course, having little restraint, she narrows her eyes and questions, “Don’t you like candy? Or are you a candy hater? Do you never eat sugar? Or only when on a train with strangers, Dan-ee-elle?” Flossie finally manages to get a word in edgewise, “Ona, be nice. She’s just kid.” Flossie offers Danielle a weak smile. And then Alastriona continues her questioning, “I need to interrogate when necessary. And it seems necessary. Just you wait, watch for people who don’t eat sugar and you’ll see. . .” Her attention is diverted back to Josie, “Yeah, we get to choose. I’m taking Muggle Studies, Wizo-Music, Magical Art, and Divination. I wish I could take more, but honestly, courses like Arithmancy seem. . . icky. I want to take I would love some sweets! Thanks Josie! I seriously love sugar. Daddy doesn’t let me eat it often though.” She tilts her head, “What do you think you’ll take when you’re in third year?”

Danielle Baker flinches back from Parker in shock as he laughs and fireworks exit his mouth, almost automatically, though she tries to right herself quickly enough. She tugs down on her plaits, trying to arrange them a bit more neatly, and addressing Charlotte directly rather than looking again at Parker. “Oh… France, actually. We moved here maybe – perhaps,” she corrects herself, drawing herself up in a somewhat pompous way and affecting a slightly stronger French accent, reminiscent of her mother, “six months ago. That was before we got the letter,” she adds hurriedly. Her eyes turn to Alastriona, and she corrects quietly, “Dan-yell.” There’s a moment of silence, and she bites her lip before adding, “I’m… allergic to her mother’s candy. From the candy store.”

“Allergic?” Parker asks in horror. “How can you be allergic to sweets? Is it just her sweets? Have you even had them before? My cousin Maura makes them and she does very well!” His eyes grow wide as he considers this, but he pops another fizzing whizbee (his favorite – not that that’s any shock) into his mouth and is instantly distracted from the unpleasant girl in front of him. “Oh, alright,” Charlotte replies pleasantly to Danielle, clearly not phased by much that’s going on around her. She continues to nibble her toad. “So, what house do you think you’ll be in?” she asks the girl cordially.

“Muggle studies sounds really interesting, too. I’m not sure about Divination. It seems like it might just be a bunch of fluff and make-believe. I mean, Professor Kensington seems like she’s alright, but I don’t think she’s being totally honest with us that Divination is so hard.” Josie looks pensive as she considers the subject. “I want to take Ancient Runes,” Essie admits. “It looks like it would be really interesting, and I think it would be more challenging than some of the other subjects.” She pauses briefly. “I also want to take that animals class. It looks so interesting. What’s it called again?” She considers thoughtfully. “Care of Magical Creatures!” Josie breaks in again. “How do you think you’ll manage all of those classes? I’m sure that’s more than what I could handle!”

“Okay, if you’re allergic, I’ll let it slide,” Alastriona responds with a suspicious twinkle in her eye. “I suppose that’s possible . . but know that I’m watching you. . .” She redirects her attention to Josie and shuffles in her seat a bit. “Yeah, I think Divination will be an easy course. Well relatively, even if she says its hard. I mean it’s just looking at tea and stuff, right?” She nods at Essie. “Yeah, they all sound good–it’s hard to choose.”

“May – perhaps,” Danielle tells Parker a little defensively, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at him, before affecting a smile again as she turns back to Charlotte. “I… haven’t given it much thought,” she bites at her lip again. “I – you were saying you’d be in… that house, I remember.” She tugs at one of her plaits again, considering Charlotte. “I imagine I’ll be in… well, I suppose I’m particularly hard to place.” She clears her throat, though, and fumbles for her pockets, eventually pulling out what is plainly a small packet of entirely muggle sweets, one of which she pushes into her mouth rapidly, before slipping the package back into her pocket and chewing away at the one in her mouth. Her eyes fall on Alastriona as she chews, and she starts to scowl a little sullenly at the older girl

“Mum says all of the houses are good and that it won’t matter which house I’m in,” Charlotte says placidly. “Mum was a Ravneclaw and Dad was a Gryffindor. I don’t really know where I should go.” The girl looks down into her bag of sweets then shrugs vaguely. She finishes her peppermint toad and then tucks the bag into her deep pocket again and glances to Danielle, not commenting as she spots the bag of sweets. “So is it nice in France? I’d love to go visit there,” she asks, trying to diffuse Danielle’s hostility toward the older girl. Charlotte only glances briefly at the older girl as her attention is drawn to Parker, who has frozen with a bit of candy in his mouth. Apparently Parker has forgotten what ice mice do, and for the time being, the compartment is slightly more still as the effects of the candy keep hold on him.

“Professor Kensington keeps very close tabs on us Ravenclaws,” Josie comments. “She makes sure that our marks are at a certain level, and if they’re not, we have manditory homework time! On weekends too. Have you ever heard of such a thing?” The girl shakes her head in a semblance of shock. “Thankfully, I haven’t had to stay in for it yet, but I can’t believe that she would do that! I bet she can’t be that way with her class, though. Like you said, it’s just looking at tea and crystal balls and all of that.” Essie nods quickly, but says nothing to add to the comments. Josie pulls out a sugar quill and begins to suck on it slowly. “Anyway, I think I’ll take Care of Magical Creatures with Essie instead.”

Alastriona Pryor gives an approving nod to Danielle as she pops the Muggle candy in her mouth. At least it’s sugar! Alastriona either doesn’t notice or ignores the scowl she’s given because she merely smiles at Danielle. “Mandatory homework time?! You better work hard! Professor Fallon isn’t like that. She’s more. . . the mothering type. Honestly, if I didn’t know better I’d think that she had children at the school.” She contemplates a second and then adds, “Discipline isn’t unheard of with her, but it’s not scary punishment at all.” She shrugs.

Danielle Baker looks up at Josie and wrinkles her nose again, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think I want to be in Ravenclaw.” She falls quiet for a moment, before looking up at Charlotte again. “Oh, it’s wonderful in France. There’s all different kinds of people there, and the very tallest building is the tour eiffel, and you can see it from everywhere in France, it’s so big. I lived just near it and would go there all the time.” She smiles faintly at the other first year, and swallows her sweet, casting another significant look towards Alastriona.

“Well, you know she used to!” Josie exclaims, proud that she can provide information that the older girl didn’t appear to know. “My cousin Briony married her oldest kid. His name’s Gabe. He and Briony were Gryffindors. Gabe has two sisters, too, but I don’t know them very well.” Josie beams and glances out the window. “Wow, look how dark it is! We must be nearly there!” The girl hops up and smooths her robes out, rubbing her fingers over her Ravenclaw crest lovingly and grinning at the others. I’m going to go up toward the entrance! Come on, Essie! Let’s get a carriage together!”

“Well that’s interesting! You certainly have a lot of family!” Alastriona exlaims. She quickly stands to her feet, smoothes her robes, and then for good measure, smoothes her hair once more. “Come along, Flossie! We have things to do–carriages to catch, and things to discuss.” That said, the pair begin shuffling to the front of the train.

Parker Wexler unfreezes just in time to hear Josie exclaim about nearly reaching Hogwarts. “Hogwarts! Hogwarts! Hogwarts! We’re almost there, Lottie!” he calls to her and bounces a bit on the seat, shoving his own bag of sweets haphazardly into his pocket and jumping up. This time, he manages not to trip over anyone or kick anyone, but he’s not exactly moving slowly, and he nearly falls over as he runs out of the compartment. “Wait for me!” he calls to his cousins. “No?” Charlotte replies to Danielle, giving only a brief glance out the window and frowning slightly as she sees that the trip is nearly over. “Want to go to the front?” Charlotte asks the other girls left in the compartment as she stands up and smooths her robes, folding up the top of her bag and tucking it into her pocket.

As the view outside the window starts getting less and less clear due to the cover of darkness – or, at least, as she realises that this is rapidly happening – Danielle becomes quieter and even starts biting on her nails. Eventually, she leans in a little closer to Charlotte, and whispers, “I don’t want to be given weekend homework, I got plenty of that from my last teacher. In France!” She adds, almost as an afterthought. “But… don’t you ever worry that you might pop on the hat and it’ll tell you to go away?” A pause. “Not that I ever do!” She adds, almost hurriedly. “I was just… wondering if other people did. It seems scary. Like other people would find it scary.”

Standing alone at the end of the train platform, Avery Fallon has one arm lifted above her head, waving to capture students’ attention. “First years! First years gather here! Sorted students should take the carriages, but first years please gather here!” The astronomy professor appears to be in fairly good spirits and is smiling welcomingly, vaguely scanning the faces for Charlotte and Parker Wexler.

Bounding off of the train and dodging some of the bigger students, Parker makes his way to the platform, his too-long robes streaming behind him. “Come on,” he calls to Charlotte and Danielle, pausing briefly as he hears a voice calling for first years. “This way!” he shouts and runs down the platform, not even giving the girls a chance to figure out where he’s headed. “Hi, Aunt Avery!” he greets the teacher and bounds into her with an exuberant hug.

Danielle Baker falls silent as she steps off the train and really seems to take in the sheer size of the crowds. She bites at her lower lip, glancing back and forth and reaching out to grab at Charlotte’s arm as she moves over towards the Professor calling out for them. “Is this where we get Sorted?” She hisses at Charlotte. “I don’t think anyone said!”

“Parker!” Avery exclaims, leaning down to hug the boy back and stepping back to ruffle his hair and smile to Charlotte, giving her a little wave. Once a sizeable group of first years has congregated around her, and it appears that all others are on their way towards carriages, Avery looks to her mass of eleven-year-olds and smiles. “Welcome to the Hogwarts grounds! I’m Professor Fallon, and you’ll be seeing me some evenings for Astronomy. No doubt you’re all excited to get to the castle for the sorting, so let us depart. Follow me, please,” she says, turning around and heading for the shore path.

Josie and Essie make their way off of the train, pausing and waving to Avery in hopes that she’ll see them before the two girls bounce into a carriage, greeting some other second years as they do so. In a moment, the carriage has disembarked toward the castle. Charlotte remains with Danielle as the crowd slowly thins and the girls are left with the other first years on the platform. “Oh, no. We have to go to the castle where the rest of the students are going. I think we take boats instead of carriages,” she tells Danielle quietly, glancing at Parker quickly before she waves shyly to Avery, coming to stop in front of her aunt.

With the first years in tow, Avery stops at the edge of the shore and indicates the boats with her hand. “Four to a boat, and there’s no need to steer. They’ll take you right where you should be. And don’t lean over the edge, please! And mind your cloaks are done up! It can be cool over the water and your mothers would be quite distraught if you had to start your days at Hogwarts with a cold. Alright, off you go!” she requests, she herself striding to a boat as well. She steps into it with a practiced ease and turns around, motioning for Parker, Charlotte and Danielle to join her in this vessel.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Having made their way to the castle, Avery Fallon and the group of first years wait in the Great Hall’s antechamber.

Bonnie Kensington stands in the Waiting Room as she waits for the first years to finish their trip across the lake. Everyone in the Great Hall is well settled as the group walks in. She nods to Avery as they make their way into the room. “Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts!” She greets jovially, but without any unnatural smile. “You’re going to be sorted when we walk through that door. You’ll stand at the front of the room as the hat sings its song, then you will come up, one at a time as your name is called to be sorted. Do not fidget, make noise or otherwise be disturbing while the hat sorts the other students.” She pauses and looks over the group. “Once you are sorted, you will proceed to your house table and sit down quietly to wait for the end of the ceremony. Any questions?” She waits only a moment before smiling briefly. “Alright, follow me,” she states and turns to enter the great hall.

Gawking as he enters the Great Hall for the first time, Parker, who has been at the head of the group nearly the whole way, is falling behind and a few of the first years run into him, though he takes no notice of this. “Wow…” he whispers as the first years make their way to the front of the hall. Charlotte, too, is impressed with the grandeur of the hall, and then somewhat intimidated as she spots all of the people sitting at the tables. She sees both of her sisters sitting at different tables, but her demeanor does not seem to change as she continues on to the front of the hall.

Still so shocked and amazed at the sight of Hogwarts that she can’t even bring herself to fake propriety and her worldly manner, Danielle‘s mouth hangs open slightly and her eyes consider the ceiling, then the crowds of people at the tables, and so on. Eventually, she manages a soft, “Ohhh, it’s even better than I could have imagined.

“Let’s begin,” Bonnie states loudly, her voice sounding through the Great Hall as she pulls open a scroll which holds a list of names. “Abbott, Ida” goes first, sorted to Hufflepuff, then “Atwell, Mabel” is sorted to Gryffindor. This takes only a few minutes, then the woman calls out “Baker, Danielle.”

Shocked that she’s so close to the front of the queue, Danielle‘s mouth drops open again and she seems barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Eventually, the person behind her has to prompt her to step forward and she stumbles a few steps, before affecting a rather more dainty and careful step to the stool, placing the Sorting Hat upon her head as primly as she can manage.

Glancing to Danielle, Charlotte squeezes the girl’s hand and watches with a somewhat stressed look on her face. She glances to the tables and sees her own sisters watching with interest as the sorting gets into full swing.

Although now her shock and confusion mingles with irritation, it’s clear that of all things, Danielle wasn’t expecting that. As it shouts out her house, she removes the hat suddenly and stumbles to the Hufflepuff table as carefully as she can manage, though she’s still having trouble putting one foot in front of the other.

Two more B-names are sorted, one to Slytherin and one to Ravenclaw, then it’s “Chaffee, Viviane,” who goes to Ravenclaw. Three girls are next, two of whom are sorted to Ravenclaw and one to Hufflepuff. Then a boy is sorted to Slytherin, another boy to Gryffindor, and a girl to Gryffindor. Next up is “Mycroft, Alistair”, who is sorted to Slytherin. Five or six more students are sorted, and then “Wexler, Charlotte” is called. After a brief moment, she is sorted to Slytherin, and then “Wexler, Parker” is called forward.

Parker Wexler gasps as Charlotte gets sorted to Slytherin, gawking a bit, but before he has much time to react, it’s his own turn. The boy bounds up to the hat and pulls it down hard over his head. His ears bow out and the hat comes down to his ears as he crosses his fingers, waiting to see what the hat would do and thinking very hard that he hoped the hat wouldn’t chew on his head.

To the hat, the boy thinks: Why wouldn’t Slytherin be kind? I mean, Dad was a Gryffindor and so was Uncle Tom and Aunt Avery so that would be okay, but I mean, Slytherin would, too!

Parker Wexler gasps gleefully and runs down to the Gryffindor table, finding an open spot and bouncing into it. He beams at his housemates as he settles in at the table, pleased to know that the hat did not, in fact, chew on him, even though his parents would not tell him one way or the other.

One final student is sorted, headed Hufflepuff way, and then Bonnie nods again. “The sorting is completed,” she tells the room, rolls up the scroll deliberately, then sits down at the faculty table, breathing deeply as if in relief.

As the Sorting itself concludes, Astra rises from her seat at the faculty table and stands to face the vast hall and its many occupants. There’s a beat between her standing up and her actual address of the students, but when she does speak it is clear and calm, using the natural acoustics of the room to make herself heard rather than magical spells. Turning to nod at Avery, she smiles tightly to the woman before shooting a small smile to Bonnie. “Thank you Professor Kensington for your help with the Sorting and my gratitude to Professor Fallon for your assistance with bringing the first years safely to the school, it’s always an exciting task.” Addressing the school again, the headmistress draws herself up and continues. “I’m very glad to see you all back and hope that you’ve had a wonderful summer. For our new students, welcome to your new home. I’m sure that your fellow Housemates will help you get settled in quickly and comfortably.” Pausing to look at the many faces, some new and many familiar, she grins sharply and gives a moment before she launches on.

The mood of her tone sobers but she continues the speech with the same efficient crisp pace. After a short span, she retrieves a piece of paper. Reading off the paper, she then continues. “Prefect picks for the fifth year students are as follows.” “Congratulations to Gryffindor: Arthur Towner and Rachel Stewart. Congratulations to Ravenclaw: Tobias Garner and Geraldine Parr. Congratulations to Slytherin: Francine Rees and George Whittle.” “And congratulations to Hufflepuff: William Sanderson and Bridget Madigan.” Coughing a little, she sets down the paper and takes another drink from her goblet. “I’m sure the seventh years are excited to know who will become the Head Boy and Head Girl for this year.” Taking delight in this news, Astra purposely pauses to retrieve and sip from the goblet in her hand. Glancing over the various tables, she finishes this part of the speech with, “Congratulations are especially in order to Slytherin Prefect, Luther Anderson who is Head Boy this year and no less congratulations are in order to Gryffindor Prefect Vesta Newton who will be serving as Head Girl.” Only now does the woman allow herself a brief respite to grin widely and watch any reactions that might take place.

Once things have settled back down, Astra clears her throat. “Of course, school wouldn’t be school without a list of rules and regulations now would it? Your parents have charged us with the task of taking care of you and so we do our best to imitate them most times.” “I know you’re all thrilled over that!” The dry humor comes slowly to her, but she finally seems to be getting into the good spirits of the Sorting feast. “With that said I’m charged with telling you all that a list of banned items is posted on the Caretaker’s office door and you’d do well to familiarize yourself with it. In addition, there is to be no running in the hallways.” “Use of magic in the hallways or on the outside grounds without supervision or explicit permission by a teacher is strictly prohibited and will be dealt with accordingly.” “As usual, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that – Forbidden and trespassers will be dealt with harshly.” “Third year students and above are reminded to have their permission slips to Hogsmeade signed and ready for the first weekend. Anyone who doesn’t have this will not be allowed off school grounds.” Clearing her throat, she looks around the hall. “Returning students know how I deal with rule breakers, I trust none of you will want to come to my office?” “Don’t worry, you’ll get to eat soon, but I have a few more announcements to make.”

Waiting for about a minute to let students discuss among themselves, Astra finally holds up her hand for attention. “I have just a few more notices and reminders before we get to the pleasant task of eating.” “I am also to inform you that all greenhouses are off limits to students unless you have express permission to be there outside of class.” “Finally, there is to be absolutely no magical toys, candy, trinkets, or anything else of magical nature brought into Muggle Studies. If any of these items are found upon your person, Professor Helit will confiscate and dispose of them.” Then taking one more very brief pause she then ends, “It looks to be an exciting and vibrant new term. I sincerely hope each of you finds as much fun as you do challenges.” “Now let’s eat.”

The sorting extends for quite a while, and Parker interacts enthusiastically with his new housemates while he stuffs himself as full as possible. Eventually, the chatter dies down and the food slowly vanishes. When the prefects get up and direct the first years to follow them, Parker does so dutifully. Sleepiness begins to overpower the boy who has had what could only be called an exciting day. He follows the Gryffindor prefects out of the Great Hall and disappears on his way to his new home for seven years.

Sorting day has arrived again, and just like the previous year, Eva Fallon comes to the platform with some of her children. This time, her brother’s oldest son, Parker is starting as well as one of her own, Charlotte. Josie and Essie are the first through the barrier, in that order, followed by Parker – who just couldn’t wait. Charlotte came next, then Freddie Wexler, then his wife. Tom, Eva‘s husband was next, followed finally by Eva. “Please stay close, kids! Let’s make sure everything’s here…” Eva trails off as the four kids flock next to the train, talking excitedly among themselves. She sighs and shakes her head.

“Isn’t the train amazing?” Josie exclaims as she takes Charlotte by the hand, running close to it. “We’ll get on the train and then it will take us to Hogwarts. I think you’ll be in Ravenclaw with me, just like mummy was.” The girl nods enthusiastically to her sister, looking to Essie for affirmation. “Mummy, mummy, Charlotte is going to be in Ravenclaw, right? Right?” the girl shouts to her mother, bouncing slightly in anticipation.

Clinging to her mother closely, Danielle is a picture of mixed emotions. There’s tears in the corners of her eyes and she sniffles from time to time, her arms wrapped tightly around her mother’s waist. Despite this, though, her eyes are widen and focused on the crowd in front of her, drifting from group to group, and her mouth falls open as she notices owls, cats, large trunks and laughing students in varying kinds of flashy garb. Her mother is fussing over her hair and smoothing it into place and looks incredibly anxious; her father stands by, looking stern and wooden.

“Josephine Elizabeth Wexler, come back here now,” Eva calls to the girl. “Estelle Bidelia Wexler, you, too. What did I tell you about running off?” The woman taps her foot for a moment before murmuring something to her husband and shaking her head. The two oldest girls walk dutifully back toward their mother, their cheeks slightly red at being chastised. Parker and Charlotte come slowly back toward their family members, looking around with interest at everything happening on the platform. It is then that Eva notices the family just nearby to them, with the little girl who looks slightly overwhelmed. Grinning sympathetically, Eva leans over to the mother. “First year?” she asks quietly. “My Charlotte here is a first year, too,” she tells the other woman, gesturing vaguely to the girl in question.

“Does the hat really chew on your head if you’re not easy enough to sort?” Parker asks loudly as he returns to his family slowly. “One of the boys at Madame Malkin’s told me that it chews on you. Can I ask it to stop if I don’t like it?” He looks up at his mother, who smooths his unruly hair down. “Can I, mum?” She merely chuckles and smiles to Freddie without answering the boy’s question. Freddie’s eyes twinkle with mischeif as he tousles the boy’s hair, which prompts his mother to smooth it down once more. “What? Can’t I?”

Although the mother seems a little suspicious of Eva and her children, Danielle takes the opportunity to study Charlotte and Parker intently with wide eyes, though she doesn’t move away or even loosen her grip on her mother. Eventually, Juliette reaches out delicately with one hand, the other one still on her child’s head, although now she pulls her protectively closer, and remarks in a low voice, with just a slight French accent, “I don’t know how any of… you people handle it.”

Seraphina Pryor is a sixth year – almost at the top of the hill! She feels fairly proud as she emerges from the barrier, intent on getting onto the train as quickly as possible. Her sister and father follow her through so quickly that Alastriona runs smack into her. “Watch where you’re going,” she mutters at her sister, who then attaches herself to her sister’s arm. “Let’s sit together!” the girl squeals to her older sister. “‘Ona, don’t you have friends you’d rather sit with?” she asks in an exasperated tone. “I’m going to sit with Otto. Look, there’s Flossie – go talk to her.” With that, Alastriona takes off running and laughing as she spots one of her friends and Seraphina breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m going to go get onto the train,” she tells her father. “I’ll owl you once I’m settled into my NEWT classes.” With that, she makes her way toward the train, not in any particular hurry.

Eva Fallon quirks her head in slight confusion. “Handle what? Our children going off to school? It’s difficult to let go at first, but it’s so good for them. Josie and Essie,” she gestures to the two girls who are talking quietly to one another and giggling, “started last year and they’ve become incredibly self-assured and self-reliant in that time. I think it has been very good for them.” Eva smiles, though not quite as genuinely as the first time. “What’s your name?” she asks, directing the question to the girl.

Finally realizing that he will get no answer to his question from his parents, Parker directs his attention to those nearby. He studies Danielle quickly as she seems to be studying him, and interrupting his aunt (without really realizing it), he puts his hand out. “I’m Parker,” he tells her with absolutely no volume control.

“Danielle,” the small girl volunteers, though she still doesn’t pull away from her mother; a moment later, the older woman prompts her, and she lets go with one arm, holding out her hand in a neat, polite greeting to Eva. Her mother studies Eva for a moment uncertainly, though, before shaking her head and clarifying, “Goodness no, Alexis, Cyril and Dominic are already off at their schools… but this is all new, this experience.” She eyes Eva for a moment longer before adding, “But I can see you’re used to that.” Danielle, on the other hand, pokes her tongue out at Parker’s loudness.

Not quite sure what the woman is getting at, Eva just smiles and merely nods. “Well, I’m sure she’ll love it at Hogwarts. I certainly did,” Eva sighs a bit and looks at Tommy, then to the children. “Alright, alright, you all may go to the train now. Find your compartments,” she tells the children, particularly her twins, who take that moment to squeal and skip toward the train. “Parker, you stay with Charlotte. You two need to stick together!” his father directs him.

“What compartment should we sit in?” Josie asks her sister, turning and skipping backwards for a moment as she looks back toward her younger sister and cousin and the stranger girl with whom her family is interacting. “Come on, you lot!” she calls to them, turning around again and stopping near the entrance to the train. “The third compartment!” Essie declares. “Three is a very good number.” The girls giggle as if laughing at an inside joke while they wait for the other children to join them.

Parker Wexler gasps loudly. “Dad, she stuck her tongue out at me!” the boy tattles, frowning at her and crossing his arms. “That’s not very nice, Danielle,” he tells her with a failed attempt at disdain. “I’m going to be a Gryffindor like my dad, so you better not be one, too, if you’re going to be like that. “Parker!” three adults call all at once and the boy flushes deep red, still frowning at Danielle. “You’re not very nice,” he says more quietly, in hopes that the grownups won’t hear him.

As Eva instructs her children to go to the train, Danielle pulls her hand back and wraps her arms all the more tightly around her mother. “Is it time?” She asks softly, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she grabs at her mother. The only instruction given to her in return is, “You don’t want to be late…” before she’s pulled aside from the group and what seems to be a lecture starts – quiet, so as not to unduly embarass her, but loud enough that someone nearby could certinly catch snippets – ‘no lying’, ‘best behaviour’, ‘pull you out by your braids if necessary’, punctuated by first tears, then sobs, then a messy hug between all three family members before the eleven year old pulls herself together, wipes her nose and eyes on the sleeve of her dress, then stumbles towards the train, sniffing and trying to stop her emotions showing TOO much.

“Oh my goodness gracious me!” Alastriona Pryor bounces away from her sister, and spins in wide circle towards her friend Flossie. “Can you believe it’s another year! Another summer come and gone and sooooo much news!” She presses her lips together and smoothes her static-y red hair. “Come dear Flossie! I will tell you all about it!! It’s extraordinary, really! I’m certain–” she glances around and then stops talking. “I’ll tell you on the train, these things need to remain secrets from wandering ears. . .” Mischieviously she smirks at her friend, and locks arms together.

“Okay, girls, come say goodbye!” the woman calls to her daughters, making her way toward her daughters who are just about to board the train. “I’ll see you at Christmas holiday,” she tells her daughters. “Come on, Charlotte, join your sisters!” Charlotte glances at Danielle with a shy smile before she joins her mother near the door to the train. Parker follows, also glancing at Danielle, but with far more suspicion in his face as he keeps up with his cousins. “Bye Mum! Bye Dad!” he calls to his parents, and in an energetic bound, he’s the first of his cousins to board the train. “Be good, study hard and write often. Send an owl tonight – I want to know what house Charlotte is sorted into.” Eva smiles somewhat wistfully as she steps back to where her husband, brother and sister-in-law are standing. She waves to the small Wexlers as they bound onto the train after Parker.

Parker was the first onto the train, and he’s the first into a compartment. He dashes first into compartment one, but finds a much older student already sitting inside, so he quickly exits it without a word, then dashes into the next compartment down the way – the one marked with a “3″. Finding it empty, the boy quickly plops into the seat nearest to the door, hanging his head out of the compartment as he watches for his cousins. When he spots them, he shouts. “Hey, down here!” he yells to them, waving enthusiastically and nearly hitting a few older students in the process.

A few moments afterwards, Danielle flounces into the carriage and scowls at Parker. Her eyes are red from crying, but she seems to have pushed back all her tears for now, and is more focused on the other people in the room. “You can’t just tell on me for sticking my tongue out, that’s not against the rules.” A pause and then, “I bet it doesn’t say it anywhere in the school rulebook. Be pretty funny if it did.” And then, a moment later, a small curtsey. “I’m Danielle.” She’s very careful to only pronounce it with two syllables.

Pulling Flossie to the third compartment, Alastriona giggles along with her friend at the latest bit of news she’s relayed. “I mean really who would believe that?! Just silly people, that’s who. Or those in institutions. . . or St. Mungos–” she glances around and lowers her voice (but probably not low enough that others in the compartment can’t hear, “–I once overheard some people Daddy was talking to say that some terrible things were done to those that find themselves there. . . at least most of the time. . . they probably still deal with the occasional small issue. . . like . . .” thinking of no other ailments, Alastriona finally scrunches her nose and thinks of the only ailment she can think of off the top of her head, “. . .lice.” Flossie shakes her head in disagreement. Deciding that this would be a wonderful debate for the train ride, Alastriona and her friend finally sit down, and she asks to no one in particular, “Do you think St. Mungo’s Healers could cure lice?”

Josie, Essie and Charlotte follow down the corridor and join Parker in the third compartment. “See, I told you the train was great!” Josie tells her cousins proudly as she sits down by the window. The four Wexlers take up one side of the compartment, and Josie smiles to Danielle. “Isn’t this great?” she asks the girl, not taking notice of the tears. Charlotte, however, is slightly more perceptive than her older sister and furrows her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” the Wexler girl asks before Parker interrupts her. “I told my parents, and you can’t even imagine what they would have done. It’s just that your mum was there and they didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” the boy argues.

“Who has lice?” Parker asks loudly, his eyes growing wide at the older girl opposite. “Who are you? My name’s Parker Wexler. My dad writes for the Daily Prophet!” he boasts proudly. “And my auntie Eva owns a candy shop? Isn’t that so great? Josie and Essie and Charlotte get to go there all the time because my auntie Eva is their mum. Great, right?” Parker beams at the older girls, paying no mind to the fact that he has actually interrupted their conversation.

“Oh no, no one has lice, just hypothetically if someone did, do you think St. Mungo’s healers could fix them up?” Alastriona corrects and then asks. She smoothes her hair again and then frowns a bit at the introduction, “I don’t believe in calling people with first names by names that sound like lastnames. So. . . this presents us with a problem.” She frowns slightly. “What’s your middle name? I can maybe call you that!” She offers a hopeful smile. “Oh! How rude of me! I’m Alastriona Pryor! And this is my friend Flossie. Her real name is Locke. True story.” Flossie nods a bit fleetingly, but before she can say anything, Alastriona continues to talk for both of them, “That must be amazing to have all of that access to the candy! Everyone likes candy . . . I don’t think I’ve met anyone who says ‘I don’t like candy.’ Those are the kinds of people I was talking about earlier, Flossie! The candy haters who go to Azkaban . . .” She nods decidedly, certain that Dark Wizards dislike candy.

Scowling all the more at Parker, Danielle seems not to notice Charlotte’s question for a moment. When she does acknowledge the other girl, it’s with a whiny, sullen, “I’ll be okay.” There’s a moment of silence from her before she sits down and adds, “It’s – all very new for me,” she tells Charlotte, her voice raised slightly so as to speak over Parker, shooting him another nasty look. “I mean…” she stumbles over her words for a moment, before she continues, “because I’m new… in England. Great Britain, actually. I haven’t been here very long.”

“I’ve seen you before,” Josie tells the older girl with a beaming smile. “I’m Josie Wexler. Parker’s my cousin. Don’t mind him, he doesn’t think before he talks.” She giggles a bit. “This is my sister Essie, and that’s Charlotte. She’s my sister, too.” Josie nods and giggles at Ona’s comments regarding candy. “That’s very true. Anyone who doesn’t like candy is not my friend,” The girl states emphatically and smiles broadly. “I’m a Ravenclaw. You must not be a Ravenclaw or I would have seen you in the commonroom.”

Climbing over his cousins to get to the window seat, Parker steps on toes and kicks people accidentally as he tries to get into the miniscule space left by the window. “Move over,” he whines at his cousins who comply without much complaint past the kicks and smashed toes. “Look at how fast we’re going…” the boy starts staring out the window, only looking back when something in the conversation going on around him catches his attention.

Charlotte nods and yelping only briefly as Parker steps full on her foot, she smiles to Danielle. “I’ve never been to Hogwarts yet, either. My sisters say it’s really fun but kind of hard work. I guess magic is harder than it looks. Mum makes it look so simple.” She pauses. “I have some sweets that mum gave me. Do you want to share?” She asks, pulling a purple and blue striped bag out of a deep pocket at her side. Glancing around the compartment, she breathes in quickly, then gets up and moves across the compartment to sit next to Danielle rather than next to Parker.

“Well, Flossie and I are Gryffindors,” Alastriona says with a twinkle in her eye. “We have lots of friends from other houses.” She offers a bright smile. “It’s great to meet you! What year are you in? Flossie and I are in our third year!” Flossie opens her mouth to introduce herself, but Alastriona once again spouts some random information, “Well anyone who doesn’t like candy probably has no friends. I was talking to Flossie about people in Azkaban. I’m convinced that lack of sugar put them there in the first place, so all people must have sugar and those that don’t are to be considered . . . ” she lowers her voice again. “. . . suspicious. . .” she glances left and then right. And then Parker kicks her accidently, and while it doesn’t hurt, being somewhat of a drama queen she says, with much emphasis, “OW.”

Although she seems unimpressed that Parker is still getting more overall attention than she is, Danielle does seem to latch onto Charlotte as she addresses her, though she wrinkles her nose and shakes her head slightly at the offer. “No, I was saying I’m only new to Great Britain… oh, I don’t suppose it matters.” There’s a hesitant pause and then, “I’m sure magic is quite easy really… but, uh, no magic candy for me, thank you.” She laughs, lightly, but it’s a little forced.

“I’m a second year now! Essie’s a Hufflepuff, though, not a Ravenclaw. The hat didn’t sort us together.” Sadness briefly crosses Josie‘s face as she remembers the fact, but she quickly rebounds. “They are kind of susp— OW, Parker, watch it!” the girl exclaims and shakes her head. “What classes are you taking this year? You get to pick new ones, right? I can’t wait to pick out new classes. I want to take music, but I don’t know what else I should take.” She pauses. “Oh, sweets! Mum gave us some for the trip. Do you want some? They’re from mummy’s shop in Diagon Alley.” Josie reaches into her own pocket to draw out the large bag of sweets, offering some of hers to the older girls across from her.

“Oh, where did you live before you came to Great Britain?” Charlotte asks Danielle cheerfully. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I was born in Hogsmeade when mum co-owned Honeydukes – that’s another candy shop, you know. We moved to London when I was very small, though. I like it there. There’s so much going on. Are you sure you won’t have any?” she asks politely, drawing out a peppermint toad and nibbling it slowly. Parker pays attention again as Josie exclaims in pain. “What?” he asks, cluelessly. “What’d I do? Oh, sweets!” he remembers, pulling his own bag of sweets out of his pocket and pops a fizzing whizzbee into his mouth, giggling loudly as the fireworks begin in his mouth, a few escaping into the air in front of him as he laughs, coming out in shining sparks.

Alastriona Pryor arches an eyebrow at Danielle’s refusal of candy, and of course, having little restraint, she narrows her eyes and questions, “Don’t you like candy? Or are you a candy hater? Do you never eat sugar? Or only when on a train with strangers, Dan-ee-elle?” Flossie finally manages to get a word in edgewise, “Ona, be nice. She’s just kid.” Flossie offers Danielle a weak smile. And then Alastriona continues her questioning, “I need to interrogate when necessary. And it seems necessary. Just you wait, watch for people who don’t eat sugar and you’ll see. . .” Her attention is diverted back to Josie, “Yeah, we get to choose. I’m taking Muggle Studies, Wizo-Music, Magical Art, and Divination. I wish I could take more, but honestly, courses like Arithmancy seem. . . icky. I want to take I would love some sweets! Thanks Josie! I seriously love sugar. Daddy doesn’t let me eat it often though.” She tilts her head, “What do you think you’ll take when you’re in third year?”

Danielle Baker flinches back from Parker in shock as he laughs and fireworks exit his mouth, almost automatically, though she tries to right herself quickly enough. She tugs down on her plaits, trying to arrange them a bit more neatly, and addressing Charlotte directly rather than looking again at Parker. “Oh… France, actually. We moved here maybe – perhaps,” she corrects herself, drawing herself up in a somewhat pompous way and affecting a slightly stronger French accent, reminiscent of her mother, “six months ago. That was before we got the letter,” she adds hurriedly. Her eyes turn to Alastriona, and she corrects quietly, “Dan-yell.” There’s a moment of silence, and she bites her lip before adding, “I’m… allergic to her mother’s candy. From the candy store.”

“Allergic?” Parker asks in horror. “How can you be allergic to sweets? Is it just her sweets? Have you even had them before? My cousin Maura makes them and she does very well!” His eyes grow wide as he considers this, but he pops another fizzing whizbee (his favorite – not that that’s any shock) into his mouth and is instantly distracted from the unpleasant girl in front of him. “Oh, alright,” Charlotte replies pleasantly to Danielle, clearly not phased by much that’s going on around her. She continues to nibble her toad. “So, what house do you think you’ll be in?” she asks the girl cordially.

“Muggle studies sounds really interesting, too. I’m not sure about Divination. It seems like it might just be a bunch of fluff and make-believe. I mean, Professor Kensington seems like she’s alright, but I don’t think she’s being totally honest with us that Divination is so hard.” Josie looks pensive as she considers the subject. “I want to take Ancient Runes,” Essie admits. “It looks like it would be really interesting, and I think it would be more challenging than some of the other subjects.” She pauses briefly. “I also want to take that animals class. It looks so interesting. What’s it called again?” She considers thoughtfully. “Care of Magical Creatures!” Josie breaks in again. “How do you think you’ll manage all of those classes? I’m sure that’s more than what I could handle!”

“Okay, if you’re allergic, I’ll let it slide,” Alastriona responds with a suspicious twinkle in her eye. “I suppose that’s possible . . but know that I’m watching you. . .” She redirects her attention to Josie and shuffles in her seat a bit. “Yeah, I think Divination will be an easy course. Well relatively, even if she says its hard. I mean it’s just looking at tea and stuff, right?” She nods at Essie. “Yeah, they all sound good–it’s hard to choose.”

“May – perhaps,” Danielle tells Parker a little defensively, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at him, before affecting a smile again as she turns back to Charlotte. “I… haven’t given it much thought,” she bites at her lip again. “I – you were saying you’d be in… that house, I remember.” She tugs at one of her plaits again, considering Charlotte. “I imagine I’ll be in… well, I suppose I’m particularly hard to place.” She clears her throat, though, and fumbles for her pockets, eventually pulling out what is plainly a small packet of entirely muggle sweets, one of which she pushes into her mouth rapidly, before slipping the package back into her pocket and chewing away at the one in her mouth. Her eyes fall on Alastriona as she chews, and she starts to scowl a little sullenly at the older girl

“Mum says all of the houses are good and that it won’t matter which house I’m in,” Charlotte says placidly. “Mum was a Ravneclaw and Dad was a Gryffindor. I don’t really know where I should go.” The girl looks down into her bag of sweets then shrugs vaguely. She finishes her peppermint toad and then tucks the bag into her deep pocket again and glances to Danielle, not commenting as she spots the bag of sweets. “So is it nice in France? I’d love to go visit there,” she asks, trying to diffuse Danielle’s hostility toward the older girl. Charlotte only glances briefly at the older girl as her attention is drawn to Parker, who has frozen with a bit of candy in his mouth. Apparently Parker has forgotten what ice mice do, and for the time being, the compartment is slightly more still as the effects of the candy keep hold on him.

“Professor Kensington keeps very close tabs on us Ravenclaws,” Josie comments. “She makes sure that our marks are at a certain level, and if they’re not, we have manditory homework time! On weekends too. Have you ever heard of such a thing?” The girl shakes her head in a semblance of shock. “Thankfully, I haven’t had to stay in for it yet, but I can’t believe that she would do that! I bet she can’t be that way with her class, though. Like you said, it’s just looking at tea and crystal balls and all of that.” Essie nods quickly, but says nothing to add to the comments. Josie pulls out a sugar quill and begins to suck on it slowly. “Anyway, I think I’ll take Care of Magical Creatures with Essie instead.”

Alastriona Pryor gives an approving nod to Danielle as she pops the Muggle candy in her mouth. At least it’s sugar! Alastriona either doesn’t notice or ignores the scowl she’s given because she merely smiles at Danielle. “Mandatory homework time?! You better work hard! Professor Fallon isn’t like that. She’s more. . . the mothering type. Honestly, if I didn’t know better I’d think that she had children at the school.” She contemplates a second and then adds, “Discipline isn’t unheard of with her, but it’s not scary punishment at all.” She shrugs.

Danielle Baker looks up at Josie and wrinkles her nose again, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think I want to be in Ravenclaw.” She falls quiet for a moment, before looking up at Charlotte again. “Oh, it’s wonderful in France. There’s all different kinds of people there, and the very tallest building is the tour eiffel, and you can see it from everywhere in France, it’s so big. I lived just near it and would go there all the time.” She smiles faintly at the other first year, and swallows her sweet, casting another significant look towards Alastriona.

“Well, you know she used to!” Josie exclaims, proud that she can provide information that the older girl didn’t appear to know. “My cousin Briony married her oldest kid. His name’s Gabe. He and Briony were Gryffindors. Gabe has two sisters, too, but I don’t know them very well.” Josie beams and glances out the window. “Wow, look how dark it is! We must be nearly there!” The girl hops up and smooths her robes out, rubbing her fingers over her Ravenclaw crest lovingly and grinning at the others. I’m going to go up toward the entrance! Come on, Essie! Let’s get a carriage together!”

“Well that’s interesting! You certainly have a lot of family!” Alastriona exlaims. She quickly stands to her feet, smoothes her robes, and then for good measure, smoothes her hair once more. “Come along, Flossie! We have things to do–carriages to catch, and things to discuss.” That said, the pair begin shuffling to the front of the train.

Parker Wexler unfreezes just in time to hear Josie exclaim about nearly reaching Hogwarts. “Hogwarts! Hogwarts! Hogwarts! We’re almost there, Lottie!” he calls to her and bounces a bit on the seat, shoving his own bag of sweets haphazardly into his pocket and jumping up. This time, he manages not to trip over anyone or kick anyone, but he’s not exactly moving slowly, and he nearly falls over as he runs out of the compartment. “Wait for me!” he calls to his cousins. “No?” Charlotte replies to Danielle, giving only a brief glance out the window and frowning slightly as she sees that the trip is nearly over. “Want to go to the front?” Charlotte asks the other girls left in the compartment as she stands up and smooths her robes, folding up the top of her bag and tucking it into her pocket.

As the view outside the window starts getting less and less clear due to the cover of darkness – or, at least, as she realises that this is rapidly happening – Danielle becomes quieter and even starts biting on her nails. Eventually, she leans in a little closer to Charlotte, and whispers, “I don’t want to be given weekend homework, I got plenty of that from my last teacher. In France!” She adds, almost as an afterthought. “But… don’t you ever worry that you might pop on the hat and it’ll tell you to go away?” A pause. “Not that I ever do!” She adds, almost hurriedly. “I was just… wondering if other people did. It seems scary. Like other people would find it scary.”

Standing alone at the end of the train platform, Avery Fallon has one arm lifted above her head, waving to capture students’ attention. “First years! First years gather here! Sorted students should take the carriages, but first years please gather here!” The astronomy professor appears to be in fairly good spirits and is smiling welcomingly, vaguely scanning the faces for Charlotte and Parker Wexler.

Bounding off of the train and dodging some of the bigger students, Parker makes his way to the platform, his too-long robes streaming behind him. “Come on,” he calls to Charlotte and Danielle, pausing briefly as he hears a voice calling for first years. “This way!” he shouts and runs down the platform, not even giving the girls a chance to figure out where he’s headed. “Hi, Aunt Avery!” he greets the teacher and bounds into her with an exuberant hug.

Danielle Baker falls silent as she steps off the train and really seems to take in the sheer size of the crowds. She bites at her lower lip, glancing back and forth and reaching out to grab at Charlotte’s arm as she moves over towards the Professor calling out for them. “Is this where we get Sorted?” She hisses at Charlotte. “I don’t think anyone said!”

“Parker!” Avery exclaims, leaning down to hug the boy back and stepping back to ruffle his hair and smile to Charlotte, giving her a little wave. Once a sizeable group of first years has congregated around her, and it appears that all others are on their way towards carriages, Avery looks to her mass of eleven-year-olds and smiles. “Welcome to the Hogwarts grounds! I’m Professor Fallon, and you’ll be seeing me some evenings for Astronomy. No doubt you’re all excited to get to the castle for the sorting, so let us depart. Follow me, please,” she says, turning around and heading for the shore path.

Josie and Essie make their way off of the train, pausing and waving to Avery in hopes that she’ll see them before the two girls bounce into a carriage, greeting some other second years as they do so. In a moment, the carriage has disembarked toward the castle. Charlotte remains with Danielle as the crowd slowly thins and the girls are left with the other first years on the platform. “Oh, no. We have to go to the castle where the rest of the students are going. I think we take boats instead of carriages,” she tells Danielle quietly, glancing at Parker quickly before she waves shyly to Avery, coming to stop in front of her aunt.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Josie tells her sister as the two oldest Wexlers make their way into the Great Hall. Josie skips down the way to a spot near the front of the table and she plops down quickly. “Hullo, Otto!” She greets the boy, recognizing him from the shop over the summer. “Wasn’t the train ride terrific?”

Sauntering in slowly, Sera separates from her friend as she enters the Great Hall. The girl seems to be more relaxed and slightly more confident than she has been in previous years. The young woman is calmer as she takes a seat down toward the end of the Great Hall, giving a vague smile to the people nearby, but not saying anything to them.

(Ravenclaw) Tapping his finger idly against the table, Otto looks positively bored now that the train ride is over. As Josie says hello, he turns his head and blinks. It isn’t often that people outside of his very small clique actually acknowledge him and it still surprised him, even if it shouldn’t, when it does happen. “Hello Josie.” Smiling easily, he glances over to the Slytherin table and his gaze shifts quickly back upon the younger Ravenclaw. “It was fun, but I’m glad to be here. Now I don’t have to fret over the kid sister or Yamini thinking I’m trying to make my sweet Don Juan moves on Seraphina.” Mocking his social awkwardness, he’s learning to take it in stride rather than be angry or embarrassed by the fact that he is far from being socially astute and lacks the golden charm that some are lucky enough to own.

Gawking as he enters the Great Hall for the first time, Parker, who has been at the head of the group nearly the whole way, is falling behind and a few of the first years run into him, though he takes no notice of this. “Wow…” he whispers as the first years make their way to the front of the hall. Charlotte, too, is impressed with the grandeur of the hall, and then somewhat intimidated as she spots all of the people sitting at the tables. She sees both of her sisters sitting at different tables, but her demeanor does not seem to change as she continues on to the front of the hall.

Still so shocked and amazed at the sight of Hogwarts that she can’t even bring herself to fake propriety and her worldly manner, Danielle‘s mouth hangs open slightly and her eyes consider the ceiling, then the crowds of people at the tables, and so on. Eventually, she manages a soft, “Ohhh, it’s even better than I could have imagined.”

“Let’s begin,” Bonnie states loudly, her voice sounding through the Great Hall as she pulls open a scroll which holds a list of names. “Abbott, Ida” goes first, sorted to Hufflepuff, then “Atwell, Mabel” is sorted to Gryffindor. This takes only a few minutes, then the woman calls out “Baker, Danielle.”

Shocked that she’s so close to the front of the queue, Danielle‘s mouth drops open again and she seems barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Eventually, the person behind her has to prompt her to step forward and she stumbles a few steps, before affecting a rather more dainty and careful step to the stool, placing the Sorting Hat upon her head as primly as she can manage.

Glancing to Danielle, Charlotte squeezes the girl’s hand and watches with a somewhat stressed look on her face. She glances to the tables and sees her own sisters watching with interest as the sorting gets into full swing.

(Ravenclaw) Gasping a bit, Josie leans over. “Really, her? Why would they think you’re making romance to her?” the girl whispers this quietly once the hat is finished singing. She tsks and shakes her head. “My sister is up there, do you see?” she whispers a bit loudly, looking proudly up at the front of the room. “Parker is up there, too. He’s my cousin.” She applauds quietly as another student is sorted.

Although now her shock and confusion mingles with irritation, it’s clear that of all things, Danielle wasn’t expecting that. As it shouts out her house, she removes the hat suddenly and stumbles to the Hufflepuff table as carefully as she can manage, though she’s still having trouble putting one foot in front of the other.

Two more B-names are sorted, one to Slytherin and one to Ravenclaw, then it’s “Chaffee, Viviane,” who goes to Ravenclaw. Three girls are next, two of whom are sorted to Ravenclaw and one to Hufflepuff. Then a boy is sorted to Slytherin, another boy to Gryffindor, and a girl to Gryffindor. Next up is “Mycroft, Alistair”, who is sorted to Slytherin. Five or six more students are sorted, and then “Wexler, Charlotte” is called. After a brief moment, she is sorted to Slytherin, and then “Wexler, Parker” is called forward.

Parker Wexler gasps as Charlotte gets sorted to Slytherin, gawking a bit, but before he has much time to react, it’s his own turn. The boy bounds up to the hat and pulls it down hard over his head. His ears bow out and the hat comes down to his ears as he crosses his fingers, waiting to see what the hat would do and thinking very hard that he hoped the hat wouldn’t chew on his head.

Why wouldn’t Slytherin be kind? I mean, Dad was a Gryffindor and so was Uncle Tom and Aunt Avery so that would be okay, but I mean, Slytherin would, too!

Parker Wexler gasps gleefully and runs down to the Gryffindor table, finding an open spot and bouncing into it. He beams at his housemates as he settles in at the table, pleased to know that the hat did not, in fact, chew on him, even though his parents would not tell him one way or the other.

One final student is sorted, headed Hufflepuff way, and then Bonnie nods again. “The sorting is completed,” she tells the room, rolls up the scroll deliberately, then sits down at the faculty table, breathing deeply as if in relief.

As the Sorting itself concludes, Astra rises from her seat at the faculty table and stands to face the vast hall and its many occupants. There’s a beat between her standing up and her actual address of the students, but when she does speak it is clear and calm, using the natural acoustics of the room to make herself heard rather than magical spells. Turning to nod at Avery, she smiles tightly to the woman before shooting a small smile to Bonnie. “Thank you Professor Kensington for your help with the Sorting and my gratitude to Professor Fallon for your assistance with bringing the first years safely to the school, it’s always an exciting task.” Addressing the school again, the headmistress draws herself up and continues. “I’m very glad to see you all back and hope that you’ve had a wonderful summer. For our new students, welcome to your new home. I’m sure that your fellow Housemates will help you get settled in quickly and comfortably.” Pausing to look at the many faces, some new and many familiar, she grins sharply and gives a moment before she launches on.

The mood of her tone sobers but she continues the speech with the same efficient crisp pace. After a short span, she retrieves a piece of paper. Reading off the paper, she then continues. “Prefect picks for the fifth year students are as follows.” “Congratulations to Gryffindor: Arthur Towner and Rachel Stewart. Congratulations to Ravenclaw: Tobias Garner and Geraldine Parr. Congratulations to Slytherin: Francine Rees and George Whittle.” “And congratulations to Hufflepuff: William Sanderson and Bridget Madigan.” Coughing a little, she sets down the paper and takes another drink from her goblet. “I’m sure the seventh years are excited to know who will become the Head Boy and Head Girl for this year.” Taking delight in this news, Astra purposely pauses to retrieve and sip from the goblet in her hand. Glancing over the various tables, she finishes this part of the speech with, “Congratulations are especially in order to Slytherin Prefect, Luther Anderson who is Head Boy this year and no less congratulations are in order to Gryffindor Prefect Vesta Newton who will be serving as Head Girl.” Only now does the woman allow herself a brief respite to grin widely and watch any reactions that might take place.

Once things have settled back down, Astra clears her throat. “Of course, school wouldn’t be school without a list of rules and regulations now would it? Your parents have charged us with the task of taking care of you and so we do our best to imitate them most times.” “I know you’re all thrilled over that!” The dry humor comes slowly to her, but she finally seems to be getting into the good spirits of the Sorting feast. “With that said I’m charged with telling you all that a list of banned items is posted on the Caretaker’s office door and you’d do well to familiarize yourself with it. In addition, there is to be no running in the hallways.” “Use of magic in the hallways or on the outside grounds without supervision or explicit permission by a teacher is strictly prohibited and will be dealt with accordingly.” “As usual, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that – Forbidden and trespassers will be dealt with harshly.” “Third year students and above are reminded to have their permission slips to Hogsmeade signed and ready for the first weekend. Anyone who doesn’t have this will not be allowed off school grounds.” Clearing her throat, she looks around the hall. “Returning students know how I deal with rule breakers, I trust none of you will want to come to my office?” “Don’t worry, you’ll get to eat soon, but I have a few more announcements to make.”

Waiting for about a minute to let students discuss among themselves, Astra finally holds up her hand for attention. “I have just a few more notices and reminders before we get to the pleasant task of eating.” “I am also to inform you that all greenhouses are off limits to students unless you have express permission to be there outside of class.” “Finally, there is to be absolutely no magical toys, candy, trinkets, or anything else of magical nature brought into Muggle Studies. If any of these items are found upon your person, Professor Helit will confiscate and dispose of them.” Then taking one more very brief pause she then ends, “It looks to be an exciting and vibrant new term. I sincerely hope each of you finds as much fun as you do challenges.” “Now let’s eat.”

The sorting extends for quite a while, and Parker interacts enthusiastically with his new housemates while he stuffs himself as full as possible. Eventually, the chatter dies down and the food slowly vanishes. When the prefects get up and direct the first years to follow them, Parker does so dutifully. Sleepiness begins to overpower the boy who has had what could only be called an exciting day. He follows the Gryffindor prefects out of the Great Hall and disappears on his way to his new home for seven years.

Seraphina Pryor has filled herself with scrumptious Hogwarts food as the sorting day feast draws to a close. The prefects begin to move toward the common room with their first year charges, and Seraphina trails behind them slowly, not in any rush to get settled into the dungeon for another year. She savors the feel of the castle as she makes her way to the common room to settle in for the night.

The sorting day has exhausted Josie quite as much as if she had been sorted today herself. The girl stands up from the table ahead of many of the other students at her table and she wanders away, waving to her sister as she makes her way out of the great hall and toward her common room.

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.

A small, well-mannered knock sounds on the door of the Divination office – even though Dara Quincy has an appointment, all proprieties must be observed. Her posture is carefully straight, her hair – often flying off in disorder these days – is neatly tied back, and a tiny frown of anxious effort pulls her mouth into a line. “Professor?” Dara‘s voice is as carefully modulated as her manner, lifting at the end with only the faintest bit of hope amid its apprehension. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

Though she has been expecting this visit and the girl is precisely on time, Bonnie Kensington seems almost unprepared for this. Her feet are propped up on the desk in front of her as she holds a muggle adventure novel a bit closer than she possibly should have to hold it. The knock startles her and she sits up sharply, her feet coming to a loud THUNK on the floor as she slaps her book closed. “Come in, Dara,” Bonnie calls, coming to her senses quite suddenly as she clears off her desk, trying to find a place to stash the mostly empty plate of sweets from which she has been nibbling all afternoon and the completely empty mug which once contained tea. “Have a seat,” she states calmly as she finishes setting her desk to rights.

The heavy thump of feet and book sends Dara jumping back, eyes flying wide and startled. “Er. Thank you, Professor,” she replies, a bit unsteadily, but still as polite as ever. Bonnie’s choice of book draws a faint flicker of curiosity from Dara, but it only lasts a moment before it disappears into her nervously tight control. Dara slips into the offered chair, hands fluttering anxiously about to straighten her robes as she settles in. Her eyes don’t quite meet the professor’s, and her hands, when they come to rest at last, fold into a tight little knot.

“So, Dara,” Bonnie starts, glancing only momentarily at the student while she rummages through her drawer for a shiny tin. Finally managing to locate it, she opens it and sets it before Dara. “You started out with so much promise, especially as you do quite legitimately seem to have true sight. Your marks, however, have been disappointing at best. I’ve heard some stories, and I must say, I’m rather worried about you. Would you care to tell me exactly what is going on? I hate to see someone with sight do so poorly in my class, and since you’ll be taking your OWL exams next year, I’m concerned for your progess.” Bonnie looks unwaveringly at Dara, never taking her eyes off of the girl once the tin is placed on the table.

Dara lets out a slow, unhappy sigh that droops her shoulders and lets the frown settle more fully onto her face – her fears have been confirmed. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Dara says in a small voice, her fingers twining through each other in her lap. “I – I’ve been trying. Truly, I have!” A bit of earnest force lifts Dara‘s voice then, and she looks up to meet Bonnie’s eyes for the first time. But the fire departs as swiftly as it arose, leaving only uncomfortable anxiety behind as she struggles to explain. “It’s only that…I mean, that is…I do see things, Professor, just not…with tea leaves and that sort of thing.” The presence of the tin, Dara entirely overlooks for the moment, so intent is she on making her unhappy explanation.

“I understand that you do see things, but I’m concerned about the frequency with which I have heard they occur. Have you learned nothing about control?” Bonnie asks gently. “It is truly a gift to be able to see things so vividly, especially so young, but it can’t take over your life.” She pauses. “Knowing too much about what is to be can be dangerous regardless of who knows it, but at your age, I think you should focus more on the present, namely your studies.” Bonnie laces her fingers together in front of her as she leans forward. “I desperately want to see you do well in this class in particular, but I’m afraid that your homework is unimaginitive at best, and often appears to have been copied from the book, that which doesn’t appear to be complete fabrication. It worries me. I know you can do better than that – you have in the past.”

As she listens to the professor’s speech. Dara slowly droops further down, her head bowing as her cheeks begin to pinken with an embarrassed flush. “I’ve tried,” she says again, more quietly than before. “I – I just can’t see things that way. I’ve tried looking at the tea leaves and cards, and – and I was all right with the star charts when we did those last year, because sometimes I would actually see something, but…” Once again, a bit of hope lifts Dara‘s voice, and an oddly happy light comes into her eyes when she mentions ‘actually seeing something.’ “And my control is getting better!” she adds, following her optimism into another topic. “I don’t lose visions anymore when I’m having them, and I can see much more detail than before!”

Bonnie sighs and shakes her head. “It helps to practice these things, though, because it is hard to say how these visions will present themselves. Whether you like it, a proficiency in these methods is essential to passing your OWL exams, which allows you to go on to the NEWT level classes. Without good OWL and NEWT scores, you’ll never be able to make a career of this, which I would hope you’ll want to do.” Pausing, Bonnie looks at her carefully for a moment. “How often are you having visions, Dara, voluntary or otherwise?”

Dara swallows hard, nodding quickly at the mention of careers. “Yes!” she cries, apprehension rising again, but with a hint of determination in her voice as well. But then she sits back, letting out another soft sigh at Bonnie’s next question. “Well…er…once a week, at least? I – I can’t always tell until it’s over,” Dara admits, her mouth twisting in an almost embarrassed grimace. “When I see that I’ve written down something odd, or something of that sort. But I’m getting much better at remembering things afterwards!” she adds, with a hopeful little smile.

“Well, hmm.” Bonnie starts, then merely looks at Dara for several long minutes, deep in thought. “We’re going to have to do something to ensure that your marks are satisfactory. I don’t feel that you are putting enough effort into your work, and that concerns me. You have a talent, but you also have an obligation to pass this class, and while we can meet and have a discussion should you get anything lower than an O on your Divination OWL, I am thinking forward to your career. Higher marks will recommend you more highly.” A pause. “I hate to say it, Dara, but I do expect more from you because you have the reputation and history of Rowena Ravenclaw behind you. You must work to prove that you have what it takes so future employers will see that.”

Throughout the long moments of scrutiny, Dara waits, her small hopeful smile gradually fading away as the professor’s silence stretches on, and settling into unhappy resignation at the end. The mention of her House and its founder don’t seem to take Dara by surprise – she gives a small nod, accepting the statement as if she had heard it many times before. “I want to get better marks,” she says finally, quietly. “And I am trying. I – I know there are places at the Ministry for people who work with prophecies,” Dara confesses, hope lifting her expression once more. “And I know you need good marks to work for the Ministry. I’ll try harder?” she ventures, pushing her smile up a little higher.

“I could assign a tutor from one of the older years. Would that help, Dara?” Bonnie suggests quietly. “I want to give you every opportunity for success but know that I cannot give you any unfair advantages from the other students. Indeed, your house means that many will look with even higher scrutiny at your marks and schooling history.” Pausing briefly this time, Bonnie allows a small smile. “Promise me this one thing, Dara: Try to limit the frequency of your visions, if you can. It is not healthy to fall into them so often, and is very possibly what makes your Divination essays seem so distracted. I worry for you sometimes, Dara.”

“Yes, please?” Dara‘s voice is as quiet as the professor’s, and the request comes reluctantly, but she follows it by admitting, “I’ve had tutors in other classes, and it’s helped.” Dara listens attentively to the next piece of advice too, her mouth puckering in unhappy worry, but still she says, “I’ll try? I know I need to focus more, but…I don’t want to risk missing seeing something important. But I’ll try not to see things so often,” she finishes resignedly.

“I’ll arrange for someone to meet you this afternoon, then,” Bonnie states plainly and sits forward again. “Now, if you’ve no questions, I think that’s all for today. I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright. You have had me worried.” She smiles pleasantly at Dara. “I’ll make sure your tutor is in Ravenclaw to make meeting easier. I really hope you can manage to improve your scores before the end of term. Don’t forget what I said about those visions, alright?”

“Thank you,” Dara replies. The smile she offers in response is a little weak, but present all the same. “Just – er – I know that my sister is in Divination as well, and in Ravenclaw, but…it might be better to have someone else as a tutor?” Her expression wavers, and the smile disappears entirely. ” And…I do have a question, if that’s all right?” she ventures, glancing down at the little tin that has been resting on the desk in front of her. “What’s in there, please?”

“I’ll make sure Genevieve isn’t your tutor,” Bonnie agrees with a conspiratory grin. “Oh, it’s cookies!” she answers the question enthusiastically. “You’re quite welcome to as many as you like. That’s what they’re for, of course.” The woman smiles kindly to the student. “I’m sure you’ll manage just fine with a bit of help, Dara. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, hmm?”

“Oh!” Surprise and relief burst out of Dara in a sudden laugh, and she reaches out to open the tin with quick, eager fingers. “Thank you, Professor,” Dara continues, the laughter lingering to ease the tension in her voice. “I’ll try harder, I promise. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cookie in hand, she slips down off of the chair and heads off into the castle.

It’s late enough that the underclassmen should all be in their dormitories, but it’s still early enough that older students should be getting back to their commons sooner rather than later. Even so, Astra‘s made sure that the hallway was clear before stealing into the storage closet. “This is as a good a place as any, quick get in here.” Ducking inside, she gestures for her companion to follow as she laughs mischievously. There’s really not much room in the closet, so she hops up on one of the boxes as she removes her cloak. “Shhh and close that door tight shut. We don’t want anyone to see.”

Slinking in behind Astra – and looking around carefully, stealing glances left and right to be sure that no one could possibly see them – Quintus seems even more uncomfortable about the idea of sneaking around. While, certainly, he doesn’t seem to mind what could end up going on in the closet, no way does he want anyone else to know about it. Pulling the door tightly shut behind him, testing it to make sure it’s closed properly, only now does he make any move that is at least vaguely more suited to the scenario, removing his own cloak and laying it atop one of the boxes, leaning forward to kiss Astra – only gently, at first.

Eyeing the man up and down with a look that’s more than just her usual casual assessment of a person or situation, Astra leans in to the kiss and pulls back with a toothy grin that leaves little to the imagination of what might be wandering through her head. Scrambling up to another couple of boxes, she shoves one out of her way and over to the side. Cramming her knuckles against her mouth and biting down to stifle a laugh, she’s at least eye-level with Quintus now. When she finally pulls her hand away, she leans back in and laughs some more before returning his earlier kisses with some of her own that aren’t nearly so gentle.

Pressed tightly against the woman, Quintus kisses her back, with approximately equal passion and ferocity. He might have taken awhile to get to that point, but he’s not completely thick about this sort of thing – slow, yes, inexperienced, yes, but not completely thick. Given the current situation with Astra, the inexperience is bound to dissipate eventually. His hands drift a little lower, though he doesn’t push for anything too naughty just now – he seems to be waiting for her to take the lead on that point.

Blissfully unaware of the happenings in the storage closet, Bonnie has traipzed down to the basement in search of something or other from the dungeon. Thinking nothing of the various noises emanating, she figures they’re simply the castle being the castle as she reaches out and pulls the door open to the closet, almost stepping in before she sees, who else, but two of her colleagues engaged in what could not even be misconstrued as innocent conversation. Bonnie seems frozen in her spot as she stands, stunned by what she sees, as if trying to take it all in.

Leading the man’s hands over to her breeches, Astra hasn’t started anything too overtly naughty herself but it’s clear what her intentions are especially when the top clasp to the breeches is undone. Laughing again and stealing some more kisses, she freezes midway as she’s about to do something that would be quite plainly indecent if she went further. Caught red handed as the door opens and Bonnie enters the Headmistress stares past Quintus and at the woman in question. For a moment she just stares dumbly and then falls into a gale of nervous laughter.

This is usually the point where Quintus would leap away from Astra, and declare that she sexually assaulted him while he was merely trying to search for a speck of foreign matter in her eye. Of course, it’s a very small closet for even one person, and now it contains three people – there’s no room for him to leap. He tries it anyway, and hits his head. All this means in terms of actual response is that he takes a moment to rub his head as he thinks up an excuse. “Er.” What a good explanation. Everyone may leave now.

“I — ehm — er,” Bonnie replies eloquently, her face reddening and her eyes widening as the full scope of the situation dawns on her. Her eyes darting from Astra to Quintus and back again, she seems to be at a loss for what to say. “I’ll just be… going… now…” she states slowly, stepping backwards out of the doorway and gingerly half-closing the door. She pauses a moment, however, and doesn’t leave, as she stares straight ahead of her. Of all people, one might expect that Bonnie would have seen this coming.

Clearing her throat and buttoning her trousers back up, even though they aren’t down, Astra turns her head away and coughs. “Well uh,” she’s just as verbose as everyone else involved before pushing her hand to her mouth again and doubling over into a fit of laughter. This is not how she expected anything to go and she’s quite embarrassed. “Maybe we should, uh,” long beat, “go too.” Reaching over and fumbling for her cloak, she misses it completely by overextending and slips clumsily off the box she’s seated upon.

Coughing a little, looking up at the ceiling and not at either Astra or Bonnie directly, Quintus is silent for a moment, carefully considering his response. Finally, he states, in a very firm voice as if he is not just explaining something, but rewriting the universe to make it accurate, “Nothing happened. I was getting,” he scans the area, “some potion for my crups. Professor Rathe was feeling ill so thought to get some medicine for her stomach. Nothing. Happened.”

Looking toward Quintus in the closet momentarily, Bonnie shakes her head quickly, as if to say, ‘Please don’t explain, I do not want to know.’ She takes a deep breath, having decided that whatever it was she previously needed, she no longer requires, and she instead leaves the dungeons, in search of the privacy of her own room, where she might endeavor to forget about this incident.

“We uh, and, uh,” picking herself up off the boxes she tumbled onto and brushing down her shirt, Astra this time does grab her cloak and instead of wearing it she holds it awkwardly in both arms. “That is,” glancing at Quintus even as Bonnie is going, she turns a deep shade of red, “I am so sorry this happened.” “We uh, can uh, meet later. Very later, in uh, my room. I uh,” looking at the door she gulps, “have to leave now.”

Still not meeting her eye – not willing to meet her eye, indeed – Quintus clears his throat and pushes the door open, stepping outside. “I’ll… maybe not tonight. Some other time, though.” Any amorous intentions he had have been somewhat dampened for now by the embarassment; it might take a bit of time to rekindle.

“I feel the same, we can uh, yeah another day.” Feeling much the same way, she’s rather uneager for a tryst anytime soon given the situation. Making sure that the corridor is clear, Astra makes a dash for the stairwell after she makes the last of her awkward goodbye. “Don’t forget your cloak!”

Ion Garnent opened the door to the compartment excitedly, peering around and finding himself only a little disappointed it was empty. Nevertheless he continued in, dragging his heavy trunk and getting it settled with a sigh, before flopping down on the seat closest to the window, staring excitedly out as he waited for the train to start moving.

Filan Naril comes shuffling through the halls, dragging his own truck behind him. He’s passing the doors to the compartments slowly, peering inside each and every one before he continues on his trek to find a seat. Even though the youth seems calm at the moment, there’s an air of excitement hanging about him. He pauses at the door to the second compartment, peering curiously at the person inside, “Hullo.”

Having managed to shrug his brother off of his trail, Chester makes his way down the train corridor, peeking into the second one. “Hi,” he greets dully to Filan before making his way unceremoniously inside and sitting down as close to the window as he can get. “Are you new, too?” he asks quietly, seeming a bit subdued.

Angus Fallon grabs his trunk and hefts it to an overhead bin, then does the same for Venora and Edern. Then he turns and grins at the other two, “Dibs on a window seat,” then tears off down the isle till he finds an empty row and crowds near the window, Venora follows, but takes the time to smile at the other students as she does and squeezes in beside her brother, “Come on Edern. We’ll make room for you too!”

Edern Fallon nods and follows his sister to their seat.

Ion glanced at each of the new occupants and grinned, happy to see that the once empty compartment was quickly filling up. “Hey ‘Lan, don’t dally in the doorway, come sit with us.” He called to the only boy he knew, before turning to the others and answering the shy boy’s question. “Yeah, this is my first year here. The rest of you are new too? I’m Ion Garnent, by the way, nice to meet you all.”

Filan Naril blinks at the sound of his name, before the mild confusement fades and changes into an excited look. “Heya Ion! Didn’t think I’d bump into you here.” And in he strolls, putting up much a fight to get his trunk settled before helping himself to a seat. “I’m so excited, aren’t you? In a few hours we’ll be at hogwarts.” And as more people come in, he gives an excited wiggle of his fingers, “First time too?”

Chester says, “I’m Chester Blake,” said boy speaks up a bit louder now, glancing at the others pouring into the compartment. “Do you know what house you want to be?” Chester asks casually, looking about. “By the way, we shouldn’t let my brother in. I don’t want him in here with us.” The boy scoots back into his seat and slouches a bit as he leans on the window a bit.”

“I’m Chester Blake,” said boy speaks up a bit louder now, glancing at the others pouring into the compartment. “Do you know what house you want to be?” Chester asks casually, looking about. “By the way, we shouldn’t let my brother in. I don’t want him in here with us.” The boy scoots back into his seat and slouches a bit as he leans on the window a bit.

If anyone else had crowded three to a seat, Angus would have unceremoniously shoved them off. But Venora and Edern were always the exceptions. Besides, he couldn’t imagine a first day with Ven on one side, and Ed on the other. “Hey, look! See the smoke from the engine Vennie?” Venora grins as she follows her brother’s finger, “If only we hadn’t got caught climbing up there. Hey!” She stands and calls across the car, narrowing her eyes at Filan. “Haven’t I met you? Outside the sweet shop? I’m Venora Fallon. These are my brothers, Angus and Edern.”

The rather small lad looks up as he’s spoken to, offering a rather enthusiastic nod to Venora’s question, “I think I saw you in the ice cream shop, if I remember right…right? There was that other lad, too…I can’t remember who he was…” He drifts off at a thought, reaching up to scratch at the side of his head, “Oh, anyway, I’m Filan Naril, nice to meet you lot.”

“I know, I can’t wait! But the train ride should be fun; I’m so used to going by floo that I never get to travel like this.” Ion responded to Filan, fingers unconsciously playing with the key around his neck in excitement. “As for which House I want to be in.. My mum’s a Slytherin and my dad’s a Hufflepuff, so either of those would be my choice.” He spares a moment to smile at the new occupants.

“My parents were both Slytherins,” Chester mentions and shrugs. “I don’t know if I’ll be in Slytherin. I guess if the hat thinks I should be. I hear the other houses are nice, too.” Mild Chester seems to be almost apathetic about which house he will be sorted to. “Are you guys related or something?” he asks the triplets bluntly.

Venora Fallon nods, “Right. I had my first ice-cream. We tried one of each, didn’t we?” She grins smugly at her brothers, proud to have tasted this British ice-cream treat before they did. “I don’t know what House I want. I wanted Slytherin, like Auntie Kee. But I guess I don’t care what I get. Father was Ravenclaw, so was our sister. I don’t know what mother was. Edern? Do you remember?”

Edern Fallon nods ‘no’.

Filan Naril perks up from his seat where he squirms a bit at the excitement, “Um…my Da was in Gryffindor, my brother was in Ravenclaw…and my other brother’s on his last year–he’s a Gryffindor, and sis’s a hufflepuff.” He offers a sheepish look, squirming a bit more in his seat. “I wonder how long the ride is.”

“My parents told me that all the Houses are nice, so no matter what you won’t end up somewhere unhappy.” Ion responds encouragingly to Chester; the poor kid didn’t seem like he had much energy in him. “I’m Ion Garnent, by the way.” He introduces himself to the triplets. “You guys know ‘Lan, too? I guess the candy store is a regular hangout.” He teases lightly.

Angus pipes up, turning from the window, “That’s what our sister says. But our neighbor says only ruffians, deadbeats, and rotters go to Slytherin.” He grins at the others, “She’s sure I’ll end up there, Vennie and Eddie too.” Angus seems well pleased with Mrs. Elderberry’s prediction for the ‘Fallon miscreants’. She sighs, “You know she’s not right, Angus. Aunt Kee and Aunt Lizbeth and Aunt Julie were all Slytherins. And Emma was their best friend, even if she was Ravenclaw. I don’t care which House I get, really.”

Filan Naril chews on his bottom lip as he listens to the others talk, perking up to offer his own bit of insight. “My brother Will says that the houses are all okay, he’s got friends in every single on of ‘em, but you’re always gonna bump into someone you don’t like. So I think it’s pointless in worrying about which house you get. I think as long as there’s a nice warm bed waiting for me, I’ll be happy no matter what.”

Venora Fallon nods at Filan, “That’s what our Father says, too. He said so, right in front of our neighbor. Said she was proof that Ravenclaw gets it’s share of rotters, too. Didn’t he Edern?”

Edern Fallon nods again, this time a ‘yes’.

Ion Garnent frowns at Agnus, confused and a little taken aback by his words. “Your neighbor said that? It’s not very nice; my mum’s really smart and kind, so obviously there can’t be anything wrong with that House.” He counters, backing up Venora’s opinion. “I wouldn’t think Hogwarts would accept bad people, anyways.”

Venora Fallon grins at Ion, “Don’t worry. Angus doesn’t really believe Mrs. Elderberry. He knows lots of Slytherins that are delicious. Our Dad used to teach Slytherins. And Gryffindors. He loved them both.” She winks, “Mrs. E is just cross because we accidentally set her lawn on fire.”

Filan Naril pushes himself to his feet and stretches, “Will you watch my stuff? I’m gonna walk a bit before we get going, I wanna stretch a bit.” He offers a wave before he sneaks out of the compartment.

“Don’t worry about it, I got you covered, ‘Lan.” Ion waves as the other boy leaves before returning to his conversation, though he seems a little weary of Venora. What sort of girl describes other people as ‘delicious’? “How’d you set her lawn on fire? I guess I could understand why she’d be upset, but if it was an accident than there’s no reason for her to be a troll about it.”

Venora Fallon leans back against the seat, half standing, half kneeling to be able to see above the heads of other students. “Well. We threw a dung-bomb over there.” Angus interrupts with a grin, “So that part wasn’t an accident. But she was always threatening to hurt Spot and Rover, wasn’t she Ed?” Venora picks up again, “We didn’t think the dung-bomb would start a fire.” Her eyes twinkle a bit as she glances, slyly, at the quiet triplet, “Of course, we let Edern tinker with it a bit, first.”

Venora Fallon giggles as they roll into Hogsmead station. “Look everyone!” She points out the window at an old witch in mustard colored robes hurrying away from the tracks, “There’s our neighbor.”

Ion Garnent dashes to the window, looking out with wide blue eyes. “Wow, I can’t believe we’re here already! Come on, let’s hurry on out.” He quickly starts pulling his luggage out, before pausing for a moment as a problem occurs to him. “Hey guys, ‘Lan isn’t back yet. Think you guys can help me carry his stuff, too?” He asks sheepishly.

“I think we’re just supposed to leave it here,” Chester comments, standing up and looking out the compartment. “Hey, can you help me?” he calls to a prefect who is strutting down the corridor. “How are we supposed to get all of our stuff to the school?” The prefeect sighs. “Just leave it there. It will be brought to the school for you.” Chester nods and turns back in with a shrug, nearly falling over as the train stops with a lurch.

Venora Fallon stands, stretching, “I still think it’s funny, going all the way to London just to take a train back home.” Angus climbs over her, reaching for their trunks, “Yeah, but would you have missed the ride, and just settled for meeting everyone at the station, Ven?” Venora grasps her trunk, shifts a small wicker box deep into her robes, only to drop her trunk with a thud as the prefect tells them to leave everything. “Nice,” she comments, “I hadn’t wanted to lug all that all the way to the Castle.”

Nate Hunter bites his lip as Briony hits her head. Laughing would be bad. He clears his throat instead and follows the girl out of the compartment, continuing to bite his bottom lip.

Venora Fallon steps out onto the platform she knows as well as she knows her own hand. But somehow it all seems different, now that she’s a Hogwarts student, and not just a child of Hogsmeade.

The students begin to pour out of the train, and Bonnie stands at the end of the platform, waving her arms. “First years, gather around me. Other years, straight to the carriages please! In an orderly fashion, if you please!” she yells to a group of boisterous Slytherins passing by. “Alright, first years, join here! We’ll leave for the boats once you have all arrived!” She watches as the students excitedly mill around, a smile fixed on her face.

Disembarking, dragging her copious amounts of baggage behind, Saphia sticks with Briony, continuing to ask worried questions about her head and informing her that she should really see the nurse about it. But she can’t do it too much, given that lugging so much luggage is leaving her short of breath. “It’ll all be … good… once we reach the carriages…”

Ion Garnent stretches as he exits the train, glancing around at the nice scenery. “Wow, it’s beautiful here..” He comments, before Bonnie’s announcement cuts through the air. Excited, he quickly heads over to stand around her, looking to the other first years and trying not to grin too hard.

“Mum will just tell me I’ve bumped my head and that I shouldn’t be worried about it,” Briony tells the Ravenclaw with a roll of her eyes. It seems apparent that Briony is now used to bumping her head on things, though she clearly is not pleased about this fact. She hangs behind for a moment, waiting to see if she can’t find Gabe before boarding a carriage, but as she runs into Kalynn instead, she grins and the two girls get into a carriage.

Kara Raine exits the train, talking quite excitedly with a fellow Ravenclaw. “Didn’t expect it really, knew that they needed a new captain with Noemie graduating and all.” Attention is diverted at the announcement, before with a grin, the fourth year turns toward the carriages.

Orderly is not a fashion to which the Fallon triplets are accustomed. Oh, Edern may be able to manage it, but Venora and Angus are far to excited to do anything but stumble over one another as they race to stand before Bonnie. Halfway there, after nudging by several older students they recalled that particular aspect of the teacher’s orders and did try to slow down. They just didn’t manage quite well and skidded to a stop before the woman, Venora beaming up at her, before turning to Ion. “Tis beautiful here. Our house is just over that rise there. Come, stand by us Ion.”

Olivia is smiling cheerfully as she steps off of the train, waiting for Evan before she makes her way out to the carriages. “Should we wait for Constance?” she asks quietly, her voice getting lost as she makes her way toward the carriages quickly.

Andy Carver hops off the Hogwarts Express, his coat dangling from his arm and his trunk in hand. He takes a deep breath, excited for a new school year and silently follows the crowd towards one of the carriages.

Glad to be done the train ride, Nate hops off the train, glances at the first years and then scuttles towards the carriages, trunk in tow.

Evan Geroff follows Olivia off the train, stepping quickly out of the way of the rest of the departing passengers. He stays quiet for the familiar announcement, then; “It looks like she’s finding some of her friends. Let’s get a carriage.”

As the older students all filter away into the carriages toward the school, Bonnie grins at the first years. “Follow me, and be lively. If you get lost, there’s no telling when we’ll find you again, and then how will you explain to your parents why you missed your own sorting?” Bonnie lets out a little grin and turns. “Quickly, quickly!” she calls, heading down the path toward the shore of the lake.

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.

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.

“Please take care not to fall out! There’ll be no helping you if the squid gets you!” Bonnie warns the group ominously, then continuing to chatter on about all the wonderful things about Ravenclaw house.

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.

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.

“The squid?” Ion whispers nervously.

“Told you there was a squid.” Rowan whispers to nobody in particular, apparently regardless of whether he actually told them any such thing. “What do you think it eats, in this kind of lake, huh?”

“There’s a squid in the lake?” Chester replies, his eyes growing wide. He instinctively scoots in from the center.

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.

The squid! She’d forgotten about the squid! Venora leans over a side of the boat, peering into the murky depths of the lake. “Come on little squiddy!” Venora whispers, “Let’s have a look.” Angus just sighs and grabs hold of Venora‘s cloak to keep her well in the boat, used to his sister’s reactions by now.

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.

“I have to say, if anyone could take on the squid, it’s you Venora.” Ion laughs, relaxing a little more.

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.

“I’m sure it’s a lovely thing. I’ve never heard of a Hogwarts student being eaten by it. Emmaline says they used to play with it’s tentacles. Or something.” She frowns, glancing at Edern, “Do you remember? Anyway…we’re here!”

For a moment, Rowan almost looks insulted. “I could, too!” He protests, almost hurt, adjusting his glasses and peering one last time into the murky depths before springing out of the boat, still glaring at Ion. A pause, and he grabs out for his brother. “Hey, Chesty, we’re almost real students now.”

“Look lively, look lively!” Bonnie calls to the students, waiting for a moment before they’ve all disembarked from the boats. None fell in this time. “Nice to see you’ve all survived!” she calls cheerfully, waving an arm as she begins up the hill toward the school.

“Don’t call me that,” Chester replies out of habit and sighs a bit. “I hope you’re not in my house Rowan. I’m tired of being asked if we’re twins.”

Chesty? Angus looks at the other boy, eyebrows raised. He hadn’t thought Chester would like that nickname. “Is your brother Rowie, then?” Venora glances up at the boys and grins.

“You can go ‘head and call him that,” Chester replies, grinning a bit. “But my name isn’t Chesty. It’s Chester.” The boy nods solemnly.

“I don’t doubt that you could.” Ion placates Rowan, surprised at the outburst before following closer to the triplets. “I wish we could have spent more time on the boats.. it was so cool, how they gliding across the water like that!” He chatters at them wistfully, too caught up in that trip to appreciate the castle.

An incredibly tall tan-skinned woman in jade robes stands before the fire, hands somewhat unconciously smoothing out the front of her robes. At the sound of the first years entering, she turns, already rigid posture improving with the squaring of her shoulders. The light of fire reflects off of her glasses, making her expression somewhat hard to read, but her mouth does turn upward ever so minutely at the corners. “Welcome to Hogwarts, where you will begin your magical education.” Her head tilts just a bit, changing the angle so that her eyes are visable, and considerably softening her countenance. “Shortly we will enter the Great Hall and begin the Sorting Ceremony. I expect you all to be on your very best behavior. This is your chance to make a good first impression.”

“Rowie, is it?” Venora grins at Rowan, “I’m sure you could take on the squid almost as well as me.” Angus snickers, but takes a step away. If his sister is going to start something just before they’re sorted, well she was on her own. Probably. Mostly. Maybe. Anyway, Angus grins as the teacher walks up, Venora forgotten for a moment. “Aunt Kee! I didn’t know you would be the one to take us inside! Brilliant!”

Rowan shrugs his shoulders vaguely, still not quite paying attention to everything – only the relevant portions, where by ‘relevant’, we mean… uh… hey, look, is that an ant on the floor? Would he get in trouble if he did a cartwheel? Finally, something wakes him up, and he looks up at Keelan admiringly, only further offering a hushed, “You shouldn’t have come this year, Chesty. Stealin’ my turn at school.” He doesn’t seem terribly annoyed, though perhaps a little miffed that his mother took so little time getting pregnant. Registering Keelan’s words finally, though, he straightens himself up a bit, adjusts his glasses, and flattens his hair.

“Is this the brother you were talking about, Chester?” Ion asks, looking between the two of them with an air of uncertaintly. They sure didn’t act very brotherly. He doesn’t bother trying to sort out his appearence like some of the others, unconcerned with how he looks. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ion Garnent.”

“Yeah,” Chester replies carefully, glancing over to Rowan. “We’re not twins.” He states this rather forcefully as he looks to Ion. Chester is about to speak more, but the weight of the present situation seems to impress itself on him, and he gulps a bit, looking at the ominous doors with pinkened cheeks.

For a moment, Rowan looks a touch miffed. After a moment, he grabs at Chester’s arm again, whispering, “How come you got all the friends? I don’t want to have to fight you for them.” This might seem perfectly logical to him, even if it seems like something of a leap to everyone else. After a moment, he adds, “I’m older. It’s my birthday soon.” Another pause. “You still owe me a present, Chesty, even if we’re at school now.”

Venora Fallon shakes her head. “Too bad. It’s great being multiple, isn’t it?” She glances for confirmation to Edern and Angus. Angus nods quickly, “Course it is. Pity, really, Chester. You’d like each other more if you were twins.”

Keelan Walsh continues. “I am Professor Keelan Walsh, and I will be teaching you the fine subject of Herbology, as well as acting as Head of House for those of you who are sorted into the prestigious house of Slytherin.” Her hands clasp, and then unclasp, and her expression threatens to dissolve into something of an amused smirk at Angus, but she manages not to look too, well… human about it. “I couldn’t miss the opportunity to introduce such a promising class of first years to the school.” At this the woman’s gaze meets not only the Fallon triplets but that of Batrius Lennox. Goodness, Keelan was getting old. “In any event, once we are in the Hall I’ll call you by name to be Sorted, at which point I expect you’ll all be very respectful of your fellow students and let them be Sorted without trying to call attention to yourselves.” She gestures then. “If you’ll follow me?”

“You never got me one!” Chester asserts loudly, then looking in Keelan’s direction uncertainly. “I’m not giving you any presents. As Keelan beckons, Chester walks forward with her, his eyes widening a bit, perhaps in fear, or likely in anticipation.

“Hey, no need to get upset. Everyone can be friends with each other, you know.” Ion looks at Chester, a concerned expression on his face, before following after the professor.

Venora Fallon holds tightly to her brothers’ hands as they slip into the hall, following their “Aunt” Keelan. For a moment, she’s as wide-eyed and awe-struck as any Firstie. A slow smile spreads across her face and she lets Angus and Edern’s hands fall. This was it. She was finally here. She finally understood all the stories Emmaline had told her about Hogwarts. Another glance at Keelan has the girl hoping, once again, to be sorted Slytherin. But whichever. It was school. It was going to be brilliant….

Keelan Walsh strides into the Great Hall looking very much like she does every year, just standing and moving rather than sitting and occasionally giving The Eye to the Ravenclaws. Oh, and there is a group of short (mostly) and Unsorted students following along behind her. The Professor comes to rest near a stool on which rests an incredibly old and patched hat, looking very much as though someone had simply forgotten to take it with them when they left. She turns to face the first years, clasping her hands in front of her and standing rather quietly. In fact, for a moment it seems as if she’s simply forgotten what to do next, if not for the fact that she looks exactly like she knows what she’s doing.

Ion Garnent lets his gaze roam around the room, suddenly a little intimidated by all the older students and professors, edging in a little close to the other unsorted students. He tries to keep his posture straight and not bounce on his heels like a child, as his mother taught him, but it’s so hard when he’s this close to being sorted and starting his first year at Hogwarts.

For a moment, Rowan looks – intimidated? Concerned? Frightened, perhaps? His eyes fix first on each of the tables in turn, taking in the number of students (and, for that matter, Professors) at each of them. He doesn’t speak this time, not even to jestingly tease his brother again. After a moment, however, in defiance of his pretence of good manners, he does twirl around a little, and seems tempted to try some sort of gymnastic tumble in front of the hall.

For the first time, Chester almost seems to seek out the comfort of being near his brother, stepping just slightly closer as he eyes the hat leerily. The boy does not say anything or even show any affection to Rowan, but he does look very nervous as he stands with the rest of the first years.

Keelan Walsh listens to this year’s song, eyes on the new first years, and pulls a roll of parchment out of presumably a pocket. When the Sorting Hat has finished, she smiles, briefly. Without particular flair, the woman reads off the first name, and a little redheaded girl steps up nervously to become the first “Slytherin!” of the night. The next goes to “Hufflepuff!”.

Next comes the younger “Blake, Chester!” as Keelan continues down the line.

Chester doesn’t expect to be before his older brother, and he looks a bit startled as he steps forward, looking around, sitting down on the seat and pulling the hat low on his head, his curls sticking out from under it, getting in his eyes.

Chester is sorted to Hufflepuff and he seems to breathe a sigh of relief, stepping down and putting the hat up where it belongs before he practically runs over to Hufflepuff table, sitting down as quickly as he can.

Keelan Walsh smiles politely at the newly Sorted student and calls out for his elder brother, “Blake, Rowan!”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood tries not to look too much like he might find the girls’ conversation ridiculous and that it might make him sick all over, and instead rather sullenly watches the first years. Although, to be honest, Charlie does not have the most stoic face, and an eyeroll or two escape him. Girls. At the appropriate time, Charlie applauds the new arrivals, but he doesn’t really appear to be overly excited, even as he bothers with a “Welcome to Hufflepuff.” Really. Welcome. Honest.

Rowan stares, wide-eyed at the hat. “It spoke.” He whispers, to whoever happens to be closest to him. “I mean, it sang. It sang, and it spoke. Hats aren’t supposed to do that.” A pause. “Oh, yeah, it’s magic, huh?” Good one, Rowan. As his name is called, he seems stunned, though he runs – or at least, walks very quickly and exhuberantly – to the hat, pulling it down onto his head, with more than a little bit of trepidation.

(Hufflepuff) “It might be better with more of an age difference,” Alice comments, head turning for a moment to look as another Hufflepuff is called. But her attention quickly goes back. “When is the wedding? Will you be in it?” That one, at least, must be directed to Constance; anyway, she has lowered her voice now.

(Hufflepuff) Chester looks about, a little uncertainly as he gets acquainted with the faces of his new housemates. “Hullo,” he greets them with a bit of a smile, looking up with interest to see where his brother is sorted.

(Hufflepuff) “Of COURSE I’m going to be in it!” Constance tells her friend with a grin. “I’m related, after all, how could she not put me in it?” Constance seems to be joking with this statement as she looks happy and cheerful, greeting the newcomer. “Your sister was away all summer, wasn’t she, Alice? Working with your Aunt?”

Keelan Walsh calls up three more children as the Hat calls out “Ravenclaw!” twice and then another “Slytherin!” is Sorted. Reading over the next name, a smile that the first years shouldn’t get too used to spreads across Keelan‘s face. “Fallon, Angus!” is thusly summoned, and the child goes to “Hufflepuff!”

“Well… I think you’re broken!” Rowan hisses almost spitefully to the hat, though he looks around uncertainly for what to do next. Is he supposed to remove the hat? Right, right. With that, he hurries off to the Gryffindor table.

Still looking for all intents and purposes warm and inviting, Keelan Walsh proceeds to “Fallon, Edern!”

Edern Fallon walks up to the Sorting Hat, a bit apprehensive, eyeing it wearily – he had heard a lot about it, but to actually meet it and place a thinking cap on his head? He hadn’t even had the chance to inspect it. Still, he takes a deep breath and sits down, pulling the hat down onto his head – though not too far down.

Smiling broadly and with great pride, Edern joins the long table on the side where a cheering House greets him. He is more than pleased to be placed with his Aunt Kee’s House, even if it means he isn’t with his brother.

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler nods, glances briefly at another new Hufflepuff, then nods again to Constance. “Yeah, she was. I didn’t see her much.” This thought pleases her briefly; Alice got more attention! “She’s back here now, of course.”

Keelan Walsh straightens a bit and nods at the boy approvingly before calling up “Fallon, Venora!”

Venora Fallon‘s smile morphs into a wide grin as she steps out from the protection of the gaggle of first years, shoulders straight and head high. Glancing to her brothers for a moment, she climbs the stairs and gives a little wave to Keelan Walsh. She sits neatly on the chair and dons the hat, not minding as it falls over her eyes. She sits, unmoving, but for her fingers crossing in her lap.

(Hufflepuff) “Of course. I see her over at Gryffindor table. She got really tall! How odd.” Constance shakes her head and then brushes some hair out of her face. “Maybe mum will let you stay at our house next summer some if she’s at home. There aren’t less people, but it would be so much fun, don’t you think?” The girl beams at the idea, waving down the table at Chester cheerfully.

Ravenclaw! Emmaline would be pleased. Oh, Venora wished her brothers would have been sorted to the same House! It would be ever so much more fun with Edern and Angus at her side. Still…Ravenclaw was very good. And they were going to have fun, no matter what. They’d promised Father. She fumbles the hat off her head, placing it haphazardly back on the stool then turns to face her new housemates with a wide, crooked grin.

If Keelan‘s face falters at the Hat’s pronouncement, it is merely momentary, though perceptive students may note a bit of a twitch going in her left eyebrow even as she smiles at Venora. More parchment is unrolled, and “Garnent, Ion!” is asked to come forth.

Ions fingers reach up to unconsciously play with the key around his neck as his name is called, and boldly he steps up to the hat. His eyes flicker towards the already sorted first years with an overly serious expression on his face, before taking a seat on the stool and placing the hat on his head, waiting anxiously.

(Hufflepuff) “That would be so much fun!” Alice agrees. “You have even more people. Would there be room?” She pauses, but then another thought hits her, and she asks again, “Do you think our parents would let us? We are already living right near each other.”

Ion Garnent blinks in surprise, obviously sorted into a house he wasnt expecting, but still pleased over the choice. In his excitement to get to his table he nearly forgets to take the Hat off, and has to backtrack a few steps in order to return it. Any sense of etiquette is lost as he takes his seat at the table of his new House.

(Hufflepuff) “Of course there would be room! You could share my bed!” Constance seems to see no problem with this arrangement, even if there might be wedding-type festivities making the house more crowded. “Why would our parents have a problem with it? It’s different when you stay at someone else’s house, and wouldn’t your dad be glad at not having to keep track of you as well as all your siblings?” Constance shrugs at this and grins about. “Hey, Charlie, are we going to do better at Quidditch this year? I think we should win.”

Three more nervous eleven year olds take their turn. One spends upwards of five minutes to become a “Slytherin!”, and then in quick succession a pair of coustins is split between “Gryffindor!” and “Hufflepuff!” With no small amount of pride in her voice, Keelan calls “Lennox, Batrius!” A young boy steps up, gives a wide grin to the Professor, and then sits with the Hat. He fidgets after a moment, frowns briefly, but then something of a wicked smile surfaces as the Hat announces, “Ravenclaw!”. Quickly, Batrius Lennox actually tips the hat at Keelan, who looks very much like she just choked on a frog, sets it on the stool, and scampers off to join his new housemates.

With a strained voice, then, Keelan calls up an entire passel of students, three of which join “Slytherin!”, two more go to “Gryffindor!”, and one each for “Hufflepuff!” and “Ravenclaw!” As the amount of scroll Keelan has shrinks and the amount dangling toward the floor lengthens, she announces, “Taber, Nell!”

Nell Taber fairly skips up to the hat, all traces of nervousness hidden as she carefully pats her hair, then waves to the watching crowd before putting it on.

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler laughs quietly. “I suppose you’re right. If your parents won’t mind, I’ll ask.. maybe not quite yet, though.” It’s still a bit early in the school year to worry about summer again. As Constance asks about quidditch, Alice‘s attention wanders back to the sorting that seems to be occuring, finding the new first years at least a little more interesting.

Nell looks a bit startled, but she carefully places the hat down, then takes a small curtsy for the watching crowd, before running off to her new table.

Keelan Walsh calls two more students, both of whom end up in “Slytherin!”

(Hufflepuff) Angharad says, “Welcome to Hufflepuff, Nell!”

Keelan Walsh claps, briefly, as the last child is Sorted, but this seems to serve the purpose of re-rolling the scroll rather than as applause. This done, she hoists the stool, hat still perched on it, and sets it off to the side before finally taking her seat with the other faculty members.

(Hufflepuff) “I’m pleased to meet you,” Nell says politely, looking around the table.”Er, Hufflepuffs are really secretly special, aren’t they?”

As the Sorting itself concludes, Astra rises from her seat at the faculty table and stands to face the vast hall and its many occupants. There’s a beat between her standing up and her actual address of the students, but when she does speak it is clear and calm, using the natural acoustics of the room to make herself heard rather than magical spells. Turning to nod at Keelan, she smiles lightly to the other woman before repeating the gesture to Bonnie. “Thank you Professor Walsh for your help with the Sorting and my gratitude to Professor Kensington for your assistance with bringing the first years safely to the school, it’s always an exciting task.” Addressing the school again, the Headmistress draws herself up and continues. “I’m very glad to see you all back and hope that you’ve had a wonderful summer. For our new students, welcome to your new home. I’m sure that your fellow House mates will help you get settled in quickly and comfortably.” Pausing to look at the
many faces, some new and many familiar, she grins sharply and gives a moment before she launches on.

(Hufflepuff) “Of course they are,” Olivia mentions with a bit of dismay at the new girl, shaking her head a bit, quickly quieting down as she looks up toward the headmistress.

(Hufflepuff) “Oh, good!” Nell says, with a relieved smile. “I’m very special. My parents both say so. My brother said the Slytherins were the best, but I’m better then him, so if I’m here this must be better.”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood is sarcastic because he’s sulky(normally he’s got at least some pride), “Oh, yes, really special. We’ve got a lot of paintings of badgers and everything.” What an excellent Prefect he makes. “Now hush up and listen to Professor Rathe.” He leans back on the bench, crossing his arms and turning his face (which may as well be in a full on pout, honestly), toward the faculty table.

(Hufflepuff) Constance‘s eyebrows raise as she looks toward Alice after Nell’s statement, obviously a little puzzled at this girl. She chooses not to say anything at this moment, however, valuing the good opinion of the prefect who sits so near.

The mood of her tone sobers but she continues the speech with the same efficient crisp pace. “For our returning students who remember Headmistress Prichard, I bring sorry news. It was all of our hopes that she would be returning to us this year, but she will not be returning in the foreseeable future. Rest assured the moment I hear any word, I will share it with the entire school.” Clearing her throat, Astra reaches for a goblet and takes a sip from the liquid before continuing. “There have been only a few minor changes to our staff this year.” “We welcome back Professors Helit, Addison, Fallon, and Walsh as our Heads of Houses. It is our sincere hope that they will continue to fill these roles for many years.” “Professor Calwern will not be returning as Charms Professor and so Professor Austin will continue as our Charms Professor. Professor Rathe stepped down from Potions and has taken over teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, good luck to him.” “Finally, please welcome Professor Orwell Gadds as our newest Potions instructor.” Finishing up with that, she takes no breather yet but picks up with a more pleasant manner and almost playful manner. “I’m sure the seventh years are excited to know who will become the Head Boy and Head Girl for this year.” Taking delight in this news, Astra purposely pauses to sip from the goblet in her hand and glance over the various tables. “Congratulations are in order to Slytherin Prefect, Evan Geroff who is Head Boy this year and no less congratulations are in order to Hufflepuff’s very own Olivia Baxtor.” Only now does the woman allow herself a brief respite to grin widely and watch any reactions that might take place.

(Hufflepuff) Nell starts clapping, pleased to see someone from her table recognized even if she isn’t clear what exactly is going on due to her chatting.

Olivia Baxtor is blatantly shocked as she is announced as the seventh year head girl, her eyes wide as she covers her mouth with her hand, looking around the Great Hall in utter shock. Her shocked expression changes from a shocked expression to a grin as she spots Evan across at the Slytherin table and she giggles a little, giving a bit of a curtsey and a little wave to everyone in the hall before sitting down again quickly, obviously still a little in shock.

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain claps as well, smiling.

Evan Geroff truly was waiting for the announcement as to who would be chosen, for Head Boy at least, but his quick smile at the news is halted as soon as Olivia is named. He stands, looking toward her with a wide grin and a mouthed “Congratulations!”, before nodding to acknowledge the rest of the hall and resuming his seat.

Once things have settled back down, Astra clears her throat. “Of course, school wouldn’t be school without a list of rules and regulations now would it? Your parents have charged us with the task of taking care of you and so we do our best to imitate them.” “I know you’re all *thrilled* over that!” The dry humor comes slowly to her, but she finally seems to be getting into the good spirits of the Sorting feast. “With that said I’m charged with telling you all that a list of banned items is posted on the Caretaker’s office door and you’d do well to familiarize yourself with it. In addition, there is to be no running in the hallways.” “Use of magic in the hallways or on the outside grounds without supervision or explicit permission by a teacher is strictly prohibited and will be dealt with accordingly.” “As usual, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that – Forbidden and trespassers *will* be harshly dealt with.” “Third year students and above are reminded to have their
permission slips to Hogsmeade signed and ready for the first weekend. Anyone who doesn’t have this will not be allowed off school grounds.” Clearing her throat, she looks around the hall. “Returning students know how I deal with rule breakers, I trust none of you will want to come to my office?” “Don’t worry, you’ll get to eat soon, but I have a few more announcements to make.”

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler has turned back to look toward Olivia, and claps more enthusiastically than her demeanor usually leads her too, smiling at Olivia as she sits again.

(Hufflepuff) Olivia is still shocked as she drops back into her seat, looking about the table at the contragulatory expressions, and she blushes a deep red, grinning at those around her. “Thanks,” she replies quietly, with a grin still plastered sillily across her face.

(Hufflepuff) Constance Geroff‘s cheers come the loudest of anyone around as both her brother and his fiancee are announced as the head boy and girl positions. She cheers loud enough that it seems to echo back several times over, only stopping when she throws an exhuberant hug around Olivia’s middle as she sits down at the table again. “I just knew Evan would get it! I’m SO glad that you’ve got it, too, Olivia!”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood claps hardily despite the fact that he’s about as cheerful as a dementor with nobody to soul-suck. Or a boy with nobody to face-suck, which is what he is. “Congratulations” comes his monotone. It isn’t as if he’s ever made especial friends with Olivia. Or anyone off the Quidditch team. Or most of the people on. Or inanimate objects, even.

Waiting for about a minute to let students discuss among themselves, Astra finally holds up her hand for attention. “A few last minute notices.” “I want to again congratulate Slytherin on winning the House Cup last year and congratulations again to Ravenclaw for victory in attaining the Quidditch Cup.” “On the subject of Quidditch, the school will not be holding the traditional Quidditch tournament this year, but we promise Quidditch enthusiasts will not be disappointed.” “I am also to inform you that all greenhouses are off limits to students unless Professor Walsh is present and you have express permission to be there outside of class.” “Finally, there is to be absolutely no magical toys, candy, trinkets, or anything else of magical nature brought into Muggle Studies. If any of these items are found upon your person, Professor Helit will confiscate and dispose of them.” Letting the various warnings sink in, she finishes. “It looks to be an exciting and vibrant new term and I sincerely hope each of you finds as much fun as you do challenges.” “Now let’s eat.”

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain shrugs her shoulders as the announcements end. Another year of being alone for her, probably. She hasn’t anything but casual acquaintances, and only a few of those – but it isn’t too bad.

(Hufflepuff) “No Quidditch?” Constance replies with a bit of a gasp. “Imagine! I wonder what we’ll be doing instead. She did say that enthusiasts wouldn’t be disappointed, and while I don’t count myself as a particular enthusiast, I do enjoy the matches.” The girl starts to help herself to some food, puzzled at this turn of events.

(Hufflepuff) “Badgers are cute!” Nell says happily. She apparently had been holding this in since she was told to listen to the announcements. “What’s the house cup? Why did Slytherin win last year instead of us?”

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler shrugs, not particularly concerned about this quidditch thing. Though it is strange that they wouldn’t have it. “I’m sure they’ve got something equally interesting planned, then,” she offers, reaching for plate of rolls nearby.

(Hufflepuff) “Because they must have worked harder last term or something,” Constance comments. “It was a very close cup,” she admits, pausing to take several bites of food, for she honestly is famished.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood‘s jaw fairly drops, shocked right out of his Intent to Sulk. He sits there for a moment even as the feast starts around him, and then finally, slumping a bit, he lets out a sigh that could very well be considered relieved and looks at Nell blankly. “Tell a badger it’s cute when you’re on the business end of its claws and then let us know how that went.” Mrff. He begins piling his plate in that obsessively neat and segregated way he has, leaving the explanation of the Cup to someone else.

(Hufflepuff) “I don’t like claws,” Nell said seriously. “Why did you let them work harder? I like winning things. It’s a lot of fun and people cheer for you.”

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain fills her plate with food, letting the conversation wash over her without really paying attention.

(Hufflepuff) Constance glances at Nell for a moment, looking at her seriously. “Well, we were a bit preoccupied with our schoolwork. If you’d like to suck up to the teachers, though, you’re more than welcome.” This retort is a bit more biting than is usual for Constance, and it is clear that she doesn’t entirely trust the new girl.

(Hufflepuff) “Is that what we’re supposed to be doing?” Nell asked, looking confused.

(Hufflepuff) “Constance,” Olivia admonishes quietly. “No, we work hard to try to earn points, and whichever house earns the most at the end of the year gets the cup,” Olivia explains gently to Nell. “It just happened that Slytherin earned more than we did last year.”

(Hufflepuff) “Oh, all right,” Nell said, filling her plate. “So I have to work hard and earn points and then we can win.”

(Hufflepuff) “Is it hard to earn points?” Chester asks, cautiously. “I don’t want to do anything dangerous or anything to earn points. It wouldn’t be worth it.” Chester, for his own part has filled his plate up quite full, perhaps a bit more full than one his age and size ought. This seems irrelevant to him as he begins to eat messily.

(Hufflepuff) “I’m sure no one would let us get hurt,” Nell says, looking over Chester as if sizing him up.

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain shakes her head and grins. “Dangerous stuff is more likely to get you losing points, I think,” she says.

Time passes and the night grows longer, but eventually Astra stands up from her chair again and holds up her hands. “We have an early and exciting day tomorrow. I hope you’ve all enjoyed yourselves, but now it’s about time to be preparing for our first day of school. Prefects please take charge of the first years and guide them back to the house commons.” “Have a good night to each and every one of you.” Trusting and confident of those left in charge, the Headmistress takes her leave of the feast without another word.

Standing abruptly from her seat, Kelly waves the youngest students from her table towards her. “Okay, first years, follow me!” She smiles a bit at this, if nothing else. She gets to boss people around! Legitimately! “First years, this way, please. Don’t get distracted or lost or I will not help you find your way later.”

Standing up uncertainly, Olivia looks to the other Hufflepuff prefects and then across the room, she spots Evan, and a smile spreads across her face. “You guys can handle it, right?” she asks them, making sure before she sneaks away, walking quickly so that Constance can’t follow and try to see where she’s headed. Quickly she makes her way toward the exit to the room, looking pointedly to Evan before slipping out of the room quickly.

Finishing the last cup of dessert, Andy nods over to Briony and Kelly. “See you in the commons, then.” Seeing that Kelly had drawn the firsties’ attention towards her, Andy thinks it’d be best to keep in the back of the small crowd of new students, not to lose one of them along the way to the Common Room.

Charlie Linwood rises from the table and tries not to look over at Gryffindor… or Slytherin for that matter. Ravenclaw is safe eyeball territory but now he’s got to cart about little people. “First years, if you follow me I’ll take you to our wonderful and glorious Common rooms, so that you can see our Illustrious Paintings and try to stake out a good chair.” Cheerful.

Briony doesn’t have any responsibility with the first years, so as she finishes her supper, she and Kalynn stand and chatting amiably, they make their way out of the great hall and up to the Gryffindor commonroom. Briony will just have to try to chat with Gabe later, after he’s finished with his prefectly duties.

Following Astra’s lead, Donovan gets up himself and heads out of the Great Hall to go crash for the night, knowing that the next day was the start of another busy year for the school.

Eleonora offers a fake smile at the first years. She hopes they will stay out of her hair this year. She starts for the doors, weaving in and out of throng of kids and heads out.

Standing up from his table along with his fellow prefects Louis does his best to not let the Quidditch news get in the way of his prefect duties. “Okay first years, this way behind me. In a neat line if you please and don’t dawdle.” He calls out motionign for a few stragglers to get in line. “That’s it, yes yes we know you can tie your shoe now get in line.” He tells another boy. With that Louis turns and motions for them all to follow him out of the great hall.

Chester Blake climbs through the hole in the wall behind the palm fronds.

“This is pretty!” Nell says, pleased, as she looks around.

Angharad O‘Duibhleargain smiles. “Yes, isn’t it?” she says. “It’s comfy, too.”

“I like it in here. I think the yellow is very cheerful,” Constance replies happily, sinking into a seat near to where Alden has gotten comfortable, grinning at the boy cheerfully, then turning her attention to the nearby girls. “I wonder what the quidditch enthusiasts will get instead of the Quidditch tournament. What do you reckon it is?” she asks the other girls.

Angharad says, “Probably some fancy competition.”

“It is cheerful!” Nell said, bouncing slightly in her chair. “Maybe we’ll do a play! That would be more fun then quidditch.”

Angharad O‘Duibhleargain dismisses the suggestion with a shake of her head. “No, that’s not enough excitement to compensate for no Quidditch,” she says.

“A play would be fun!” Constance agrees happily, seeming to come a bit out of her distrust for Nell. She pauses, considering. “Maybe we’ll get to go see some professional Quidditch matches!” The girl suggests, her eyes getting wide at the speculation.

Angharad O‘Duibhleargain grins. “That would be amazing!” she says excitedly.

Alice Wexler grabs a pillow from somewhere and stretches out on the floor near Constance’s chair, finally warming up a bit to the conversation and the crowd. “Maybe they’ll let us write the play,” she suggests, with a small smile for Nell.

“A play?” Chester considers, looking about as he chews his lip. “Well, maybe. It would be fun to help make the sets, don’t you think?” he suggests amiably. “I don’t know if I’ll care as much for Quidditch. I didn’t become very familiar with it in India, and we just didn’t get much into it when we moved back to England,” he mentions casually.

“Acting is more fun then writing, but that’s still good,” Neil said. “Watching Quidditch isn’t as fun as playing. What do they do in India?”

“Oh, they have Quidditch,” Chester answers quickly. “We just didn’t play it, really. I guess the Ministry folks who we lived around, didn’t really like it, so they didn’t play at all, so Rowan and I didn’t play as much then.” Chester shrugs as he adds this, smiling to the girls surronding him. He’s not used to be surrounded by pleasant girls.

“I’ve never played Quidditch,” Neil said, “But my mother let me practice riding her broom this summer. It was fun! I think I was good at it. I might be on the team when I’m older.”

The Divination classroom is clean and brightly lit from the bright sunshine outside the window. The desks are arranged in their usual, neat horseshoe, with two seatings to each. The board is clean from any messes and it appears to have either not been used yet, or have been cleaned since it was last used in a class. Bonnie Kensington sits behind her desk, several books opened in front of her while she waits for the students to arrive for their first Divination class.

Clavicle Gravely comes in flipping some tarot cards about in his hands. he trots on in and looks for a place to sit. He moves to a table and after nodding his head low to Bonnie in greeting, he flops to a seat.

Saphia always looks nervous before a class. Every single one, except for Astronomy and History of Magic, in which she is confident of her ability in all areas. But for Divination, she looks downright terrified. Her posture is stiff, she glances around the room, she hunches over her books (PROTECTIVE BOOKS!) and sits a row back from the teacher, instead of her usual front row position. She seems to be expecting horrible punishment at any moment, and barely squeaks out, “Hi Clavicle.”

Sally Johnston walks in, giggling at some note she is reading. As she notices Bonnie at her desk, she hastily stuffs the note into her pocket and takes a seat at her normal table. Piling her school books on the table infront of her, she watches the professor patiently.

Climbing up into the class and brushing himself off Marcus Winsley doesn’t seem to have grown a single inch over the summer leaving him looking a tad out of place amongst his other third year peers. Waddling to his seat Marcus keeps a suspicious eye out as if looking to avoid somone in particular.

Clavicle Gravely grins at Saphia “Er.. no one is going to lick your books. I don’t think.” he chuckles. “So why are you… slinking and shrinking here? You’re usually at the front up here?”

Dragging her feet along behind her, it seems that even this early in the term, Morgana has been exhibiting some trouble with her sleeping habits. Either that, or she has merely spent the previous night awake until too late an hour with some task or another. She rubs at her eyes with one hand, as though trying to force some liveliness into her appearance, and she stifles a yawn, scoping the classroom for one particular person – and, seeing Marcus, seating herself down next to him uninvited and pulling her Divination things, as well as a piece of chocolate, out of her bag. To Marcus, she nods, her Divination book she opens, the chocolate she eats. Extra sugar boost required for the learning.

Standing as the class filters in and takes their seats in the horseshoe organization of the seats, the teacher pauses behind her desk, as if waiting for them to just realize that they ought to pay attention to her. “Ahem.” A pause. “Hello, third years. My name is Professor Bonnie Kensington. I’m, quite obviously, your Divination professor. Please call me Professor Kensington. Now, if I could have you introduce yourselves, first and last name only, from my left here and then take your seats. I want to go over some basic things in regards to Divination, but first, your names.”

Saphia Bona blurts out her name as soon as she’s called and then doesn’t seem to stop talking, “Saphia Bona, Professor and I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry but I just couldn’t finish the reading,” She seems both utterly apologetic and blithely unaware of the boundaries of the task set to her. “I got through Vablatsky alright and I tried, I really tried to get the Gartner text finished but it was just so long and I couldn’t finish it! I’m so sorry.” She trembles, awaiting punishment.

Cringing when Morgana sits next to him Marcus looks over at her and doesn’t dare say anything to the contrary. Perking his ears as the Professor speaks Marcus waits till it comes to him and stands “Marcus Winsley” He speaks up in that high nasaley voice of his before flopping back down in his seat again while raising an eyebrow at Saphia’s stammering appologie.

Clavicle Gravely smiles a touch at Saphia, “I am Clavicle Gravely, the Third.” he grins at Saphia and shakes his head, “You weren’t supposed to read the entirety of the book Saphia.”

Sally Johnston stands when it is her turn, saying, “Sally Johnston, Professor Kensington.” She then reaktes her seat, crossing her legs at the ankle. She doesn’t say much else. She just looks at the people as they each introduce themselves.

“Morgana DeWitt.” The girl offers in turn, stretching back idly and eying Saphia. Has the Slytherin girl done any Divination reading? Her incredulous expression as she eyes Saphia would indicate not, but perhaps she’s just surprised that anyone would attempt to read the entirety of the textbook. She adds nothing further to her introduction, though she does stretch out lazily, watching Professor Kensington, but also keeping an eye on Marcus out of the corner of her eye. There’s probably some cunning reason for it. Maybe she just likes watching him.

“Alright, well, when I say first and last name only, I mean it. Miss Bona, you are not required to read that entire book this year, let alone before beginning the class; that is meant to last over five years. Mister Gravely, I would appreciate it if you let me run the class from here on out. Now, Divination seems to come with a great deal of stereotypes about what it does and does not include. What have you heard about the subject? What things does it include?” Bonnie turns and pulls out her wand, charming the bit of chalk sitting below the chalk board. It poises itself just away from the chalk board, ready to write down the suggestions. “Discuss amongst yourselves, and I will take what you come up with and clarify it before the end of the class.”

Clavicle says, “Well, my uncle Ulnus taught me to say creepy things to muggles in the carnival. But I don’t think that’s divination, I think it’s bilking.” he shrugs a bit and looks at Saphia. “I don’t know if any Gravelly has ever had the all seeing eye. Is this a subject you can learn or do you have to possess some gift?”"

Sally Johnston shrugs and looks over towards Marcus, saying, “I heard we’d be able to read people’s minds and stuff like that. Didn’t you?” Looking over at Clavicle, Sally winces, asking, “Do we have to touch eyes or something? There’s just weird.”

“Read people’s minds?” Asks Marcus “I don’t think so… you’re thinking of occlumencey… or even the use of a pensieve.” Remarks the large nosed boy looking at Sally as though she had a second head or somthing. “Were going to learn to predict the future though… obviously….”

Having failed to get into trouble (She got in more trouble for apologizing than having failed to read the book! How bizarre!) Saphia seems to calm down an awful lot, and breathes in and out a few times before answering Clavicle, “It can’t be learned, no. It’s a gift, similar to Parseltongue. Either you have it, or you don’t. Well, at least that’s my understanding from the reading. There might be answers in the other half of the textbook that contradicts me. Or in the quarter of the book I read but didn’t even begin to understand. It’s a gift that needs to be developed, however, if it is possessed, you don’t just get it and it’s perfect.”

As is fairly usual for her, Morgana remains entirely silent on the subject for a moment, sitting up a little straighter again and twirling her quill through her fingers. After a moment, she offers, “It is not unlike what we were learning in Astronomy last year – horoscopes, personality predictors, telling the future. Not just horoscopes, of course. Do you not remember Professor Fallon saying that the horoscopes were a part of the Divination course, though?” Clucking her tongue as if her point is the be all and end all of Divination, combined with a tiny bit of derision towards the other students, for not knowing what was so obvious to her, and pride at her own words. A bit too much pride, indeed.

Sally Johnston looks at Marcus, saying, “If you could reach someone’s mind, you’d be able to predict the future pretty well.. Don’t you think so, Morgana?”

“I don’t see how… unless that person can see the future you’re just going to see a lot of useless garbage like gossipe… and the things they do in there every day lives.” Remarks Marcus a bit annoyed. But the boy nearly always looks annoyed so it’s probably nothing.

Clavicle Gravely hmms. “Well I know how to tell people what they want to hear. I doubt that’s what the professor wants.” he sighs. “Bother… I’m good at doing this whole ‘creepy future seeing’ boy thing that makes muggles push money at you.”

Only shrugging in response to Sally’s question, Morgana lapses back into silence. Not so much shy silence, but an almost exasperated silence, as if she believes she is on a mental level higher than the others in the class. Perhaps she does believe such a thing, whether or not it’s true. With a certain adopted lazy superiority (which is really little more than an arrogant carriage and a bored look), she eyes several of her classmates as they speak, shaking her head at a few of them and clucking her tongue again with a certain ‘isn’t it obvious?’ air to others. Her silence is hardly likely to draw compliments, but nonetheless.

“Actually, there is some use in personality predicting and such within Divination,” Saphia nods to Morgana, surprisingly backing her up. “Divination’s all cloudy — It’s not a precise thing straight away. But if you know a person’s personality traits, you can get a better idea of which possibilities make sense and which are spurious. But it’s not just astronomy. You can predict the future by casting runes, reading tea-leaves, looking through dead animal entrails… what?” She looks over to one girl who is looking ill at her words. “It’s true! It’s called Augury!” She sighs and adds, “You can also watch the way mice run around if you want something cuter. That’s called Myomancy.”

Sally Johnston turns pale, and even alittle green at the mention of animal entrails.

Clavicle says, “And the muggles buy anything if it’s gross. you can pay an entire trains refurbishing rate on one village worth of people if you use entrails.” he nods at Saphia. “”We call it, ‘profit’.”"

“It’s not so bad though. It’s just like butchering a hog or some other stupid animal.” Marcus says entirely nonchalant. “You just get the bonus of rooting around through the intestines and heart looking for things like spots and weird tumors. It’s not nearly as disgusting as a plate of steamed broccoli.” Marcus makes a face at the thought of touching the green putrid stuff.

The statement from the Slytherin boy at least attracts Morgana‘s interest, if not her approval; she looks at him, fixing an entirely blank but perhaps somewhat penetrating gaze on him for at least a full thirty seconds, unblinking, before she turns back to the middle of the room without so much as a word. After a further moment, she adds, almost boredly, “I have never understood the concept of reading tealeaves. Who would be daft enough to tell the future to a pile of wet leaves?”

“Then of course, there’s bibliomancy,” Saphia concludes. “I like bibliomancy. I like it a lot. Oh!” Turning to Morgana, she explains, “It’s really more about shapes and signs. Similar to Pyromancy, actually. You look for shapes in the flames. Tea leaves, I suspect, are popular because they also come with a calming drink first. If anyone came up with a technique for divination via the froth on a butterbeer mug, I suspect that would be popular too.”

Sally Johnston looks over at the ravenclaw who talks about are these weird words she’s never heard before. Are they even in the same class?

“What would you call divination via butterbeer froth, I wonder?” Saphia wonders.

“Frothiomancy,” Sally suggests with a giggle.

Clavicle says, “Well some of these forms of divination aren’t so much divination so much as applying a structured order to a chaotic system. These forms are really tools some people use to try to find order in their chaotic lives.”"

Looking over at Saphia, the calm derision easily readable in her expression by even the worst Divination student, Morgana is silent for a moment, just looking at the girl, unblinking, for a period of several seconds. It seems that this, if nothing else, is one of her favourite ways to silence people. Finally, she replies, “I am aware, Bona. My remark is an example of what cultured people call a ‘joke’, so I understand why you may not have been able to comprehend.” She sighs heavily, in exasperation, if perhaps a little bit too dramatically, and leans back in her chair again, rolling her eyes at the ceiling.

Clavicle Gravely immediately looks at Morgana, “And what do cultured people call rude, snobbish prats?”

Having stood aside and listened up until now, Bonnie shakes her head. “Alright, alright. That’s enough,” the woman interjects and holds her hands up. “The accepted versions of Divination are reading tea leaves, cartomancy, palmistry, astrology, yes, bird entrails, and crystal balls. Some of these have been leaked to Muggles, either by way of fraud or accidental mention. Muggles have taken it farther and have even invented some versions of their own. Miss Bona, that is not, unfortunately, an accurate method of Divination.” Bonnie does smile as she mentions this. “One point each to all of you for engaging in discussion. “As for taking this class, we will simply have to wait and see whether your gift presents itself. There is no way to know at present whether any of you have the gift of Seeing. It will develop itself over time with hard work and effective training. Alright, are there any specific questions?” Glancing over her shoulder at the board, there is a wealth of information copied there, haphazardly organized from the discussion that has ensued. “A point from each of you for malicious attitudes toward fellow students,” Bonnie retorts, giving pointed looks to those engaging in the more heated discussion.

Glancing over at the Ravenclaw boy at these words, it seems that Morgana cannot resist the obvious retort. With a smirk and a quiet snort, twirling her quill through her fingers, she offers, “‘Clavicle Gravely’?” Before shrugging vaguely and turning an innocent expression towards the Professor. Malicious attitudes? Never.

Glancing at Clavicle Marcus shakes his head. “I suppose your Uncle Soup-bone told you that Gravely?” Comes Marcus‘s less than friendly response. He has no idea what Clavicle’s family member’s names are so if there is a Soup-Bone it’s an incredibly lucky guess indeed. Marcus stays quiet as Clavicle speaks to Morgana though. Is he supposed to defend her? Marcus looks up to the teacher and decides to take down notes.

Sally Johnston giggles a bit as everyone fights. Meanwhile, she is scribbling down the stuff that Bonnie says, including how she got a point for her house.

Clavicle Gravely is about to stand as well, Family is one of his many buttons, Instead he smiles and holds a card up to his head. “Ohhh…am I ever seeing a prediction.”

Saphia Bona jabs Clavicle with her elbow. “Shush!”

Clavicle Gravely oofs but the narrowed eyes shows he’s not through. He puts his cards away.

Looking pointedly at Clavicle, Bonnie‘s face does not look so pleasant anymore. “Mister Gravely, if you are going to make a mockery of this class, you may leave now.” The woman crosses her arms and glances around the classroom. “Three points from Ravenclaw from that, and I’ll have you know I expect much better behavior from those in Ravenlaw house.” The woman shakes her head a moment and looks around the classroom. “Alright, no questions? I’ll have you all read the first three chapters from the Complete and Unabridged Guide to Everything in Divination, and the first two from Unfogging the Future, and I will want a full six inches for each chapter.” Looking harshly at the students one at a time, the woman pauses and lets this sink in. “Perhaps next time I see you all, you will be better behaved toward your peers.”

Sally Johnston can’t believe her ears. Her jaw drops open at having to read 5 chapters and write 2.5 feet! Eyeing the people who were argueing, she huffs loudly and flips open the Guide to Everything Divination, which is tattered and has weird stains on the over and first few pages, and starts to read.

Summing up in her head, Saphia concludes, “Two and a half feet. I can do that!” She packs up her bags, and happily walks past Professor Kensington on her way out to whisper, “Thank you for not being mad at me. I’ll keep reading the Guide, and I’ll get through as much of it as I can. Although I suspect I’ll only really understand a lot of it in time. Oh, oh, and I had a question. But I’ve forgotten it. Sorry. Maybe I’ll remember for next class?”

“All clear on that? Wonderful.” Bonnie comments and waves her wand harshly at the chalk behind her, causing it not only to fall to its catchall but also break cleanly in half while it sits there. “Class dismissed.” She sits down quickly and glances up at Saphia. “Certainly, ask me whenever you remember it. I’m here all the times posted on the board there, or you may leave a note for me in the staff room. Whatever works for you.”

Groaning at the six inch parchment assignment Marcus scribbles down hurriedly in his notes simply rolling his eyes at the entire situation. He takes his books and notes and carefully places them into his bag knowing that he’s going to have to share them with Morgana no matter what he wants. Marcus stands and makes his way out of the class avoiding Clavicle as he does, after all Marcus isn’t nearly so large as his mouth.

Clavicle Gravely stands and waits “I apologize Professor, I wasn’t thinking. ” he hangs his head low and walks to the door.

Sally Johnston packs up quickly and leaves without a word to anyone. It’s their fault, she’s decided. Then, the red head is gone.

Saphia Bona smiles, and walks out after Clavicle.

Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

(Faculty) Bonnie, who has been expecting a rather typical — or boring, however one might put it — end of year feast, is startled at this. Assuming that perhaps the events of the school year might have something to do with this, she sits up straighter, watching down the end of the room with perhaps a bit less awe and pure curiosity than the students all seem to have. As the Minister for Magic enters, however, Bonnie‘s mental assumptions seem to have been proved true while she leans back again. Though, of course, what the Minister would have to do with an end of the year sorting, the teacher can only guess.

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Faculty) Apparently expecting something of the sort, Astra leans back casually in her chair. Her left hand dangles at her side, but she instinctually reaches for the flask that is ever at easy reach. Fingers settle around the familiar friend, but she does not pull it out. An actual smile lights her features when Sylvie enters the room, but it fades quickly and she begins to eye the ceiling of the hall in a casual manner.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh is sitting unusually stiffly, looking about as comfortable as she normally does when the hall is bedeked in Ravenclaw’s colors. Still, at the announcement, the green-clad Herbology professor quirks her head to the side. With eyebrows raised and expression clearly registering surprise at the notion of a guest, she waits expectantly for the entrance. When she sees who it is however, Keelan actually smiles and briefly applauds. After all, outside of being Minister for Magic, Sylvie Winters(-Geroff!) had been her first Head of House. That alone commands a nostalgic respect. Soon enough, she settles down, stiff-backed again, to wait.

(Faculty) “Oh my…” comes Sibyl Wexler‘s impressed murmur, from her seat at the end of the Faculty table. Her eyes widen as she follows the Minister’s progress down the aisle, and she pulls herself a little straighter in her chair as she applauds. She makes no move to do anything more strenuous, though – this late in her pregnancy, Sibyl has grown large enough that staying seated is a much more comfortable option than anything else. The nurse’s cheerful smile is undimmed, though, and she turns to look at first Melvina and then the Minister with growing interest and raised eyebrows.

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard continues to watch the Minister, even after she sits, her half-amused expression lingering on her lips. A handful of the faculity were made aware of the events that were about to take place, but owing to a love of the theatrical, Melvina had naturally left some out. After all, what is a surprise if everyone knows what will happen. That thought proves a bit to much, though, and the Headmistress does find herself having to take a sit of the flagon of water in front her to briefly hide a small chuckle.

(Faculty) Grinning mischievously at the events as they unfold, Astra too has an obvious love for the theatrics, but unlike Melvina she takes few pains to hide the sly smile or the soft chuckle that follows. Glancing sidelong at the Headmistress, the teacher purses her lips and forces herself not to say a word. The grip on her flask relaxes and she withdraws her fingers from the object. Settling both hands in her lap, she sits up straight and returns her gaze to the Minister and the students in question.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

(Faculty) Bonnie‘s eyebrow raises as she turns to see that Astra looks awfully smug several seats down the table. While the Divination professor would like to lean down and ask the woman, it certainly wouldn’t be very good form to do this while the Minister for Magic is speaking and she keeps mum, instead turning her face foward again, taking in the woman’s speech further.

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

(Faculty) Continuing to look rather impish than full of herself, Astra grins a touch wider to show teeth. She’s enjoying this scene very much, although it’s a personal sort of pleasure that bursts into full bloom when Sylvie finally makes her announcement. Clapping, she purposefully controls her reaction and bites back a shout of joy for the two young adults so awarded.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh doesn’t look too surprised, though she could just be covering up her expression for once. A soft smile spreads across her features, but in all reality they weren’t her closest students by a wide margin, not having the scores for her particular class. Still, should they look her way for any reason, the smile will widen appreciatively. So they saved the professor of her least favorite subject; At least they had and the Ministry wasn’t ignoring it. Keelan glances briefly down the table toward Karina, and then sets her expresison forward again, hands folding across her lap.

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

(Faculty) Mumbling the school song with no great enthusiasm, Astra‘s lips move nicely but the words are more spoken than sung and what does manage to be audible is more a whisper of jumbled words. As Melvina begins her own speech, the remaining smile fades away.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh sings the school song with all the enthusiasm of a dead rock–that is, she sort of opens and shuts her mouth once or twice but not sound comes out and her cheeks turn a rosy shade of red. Her nostrils flare at the reduction of points, and it’s in a still inaudible mutter that the professor comments, “As if Ravenclaw needed more of a lead in order to win.” She resumes her unpleasant posture of ‘getting through the feast’. Very mature. No. Honest!

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh is watching the giant hourglasses fill and lets out a rather unprofessional, “Ha!”, turns bright red, and then murmurs, “Rather, congratulations to them. Deserved it, of course. Hard work.” Lower, probably just to whomever is closest to her (in all likelyhood, Julie), “Not being Ravenclaws.” Back to herself, she smiles at Astra and Melvina and the Slytherin in general. At least she resisted the urge to smirk at the Ravenclaws. After all, who knows, maybe some of the first years saved a barrage of house elves while nobody was looking and they’ll win again anyway. She waits.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

(Faculty) Chuckling darkly as the Headmistress resumes her seat, Astra does reach for her flask this time. Opening it, she pours some of the contents into her goblet. Stopping it back up, she puts it away and reaches for the goblet. “Ah yes, a warm welcome from the staff,” grinning sharply her dry humor hasn’t changed in the slightest. “That’s not exactly how I’d phrase such things but then,” raising the glass to Melvina, “You’ve grown on me. I hope we all have a better year next year.” Sweeping her arm to include those down the table away from her, she smiles to all gathered at the table. “To all of us, it’s been interesting this year if not always pleasurable.”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard chuckles, softly, passing a vague glance to Astra with a coy sort of expression. “Truly? It must be age, then, as I was certain everyone at this table welcomed me with open arms.” Her tone is laced with a similar dry amusement that marks Astra’s, though her expression softens noticably at the gesture made by the Defense Master. Taking up her own tankard, she lifts it as well, in response. “To all of us. Hear, hear.”

(Faculty) “Poor Ravenclaw,” is all Bonnie comments before she begins to fill her plate with some of the delectable cuisine from before her. The smug looks on some faces before her causes the woman to chuckle, however, and she does seem amused at how the various houses are taking the news.

(Faculty) “The Ravenclaw did very well for themselves this year with Quidditch and they managed to get the House Cup last year. I’m sure they’ll continue proving themselves.” Smiling a little fondly, Astra takes a drink from her goblet, but ignores all the food on the table. “I’m proud of the Slytherin. I don’t know when the last time was that the won a House Cup, but even if they don’t win again it’s good to see they’re turning around and actually caring.” “I’m a bit sad for Hufflepuff actually they did very well this year. Maybe next year they’ll surprise us all.” While she’s not the kind to typically make conversation, she is trying and more, she’s actually being polite for once rather than using her usual curt manners.

(Faculty) “Indeed. I had some very talented Hufflepuffs in my class this year,” Bonnie adds after a sip of some stew. “Perhaps next year will surprise us all,” the woman comments as well, smiling down the table to Astra. How congenial! Bonnie does not appear to be so very hungry as all that, though, leaving bits and pieces of the food she has taken on the plate before her and instead sipping her pumpkin juice slowly, interspersing it with the occasional bite of food.

(Faculty) “Good to hear, all I managed to glean was complaints and whines from students about how hard Divination was.” Grinning sharply, it’s a glimmer of her dark humor and Astra directs it at Bonnie. “I’m glad to hear and see that Divination isn’t at all like old Dinsmore taught. I thought it was another easy ‘A’ until I heard things in the hallways. Things are different now, but that’s not such a bad thing. I hope your Hufflepuff continue to do well, they’re a mostly good bunch that House.” “May you continue to get talented students and not ones like,” chuckling, “well to be blunt, like I was.”

(Faculty) Bonnie laughs actually quite loud as Astra says this. “It’s only hard if they don’t apply themselves to it.” Bonnie seems to believe this, too. “And I wish you good students as well. I can only imagine from the stories I’ve heard about the horrors of the old Divination teachers what the rest of the teachers must have been like. I simply can’t imagine. Hiring people like that after the joy that Professor D’Estiny was.” Bonnie‘s eyes almost seem to glaze over in sheer joy as she thinks back to her own Hogwarts days. “Hopefully the students are doing better in Defense than many were doing in Divination?”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard simply listens, quietly smiling, feeling quite warm from the butterbeer that had found it’s way in to her belly and the steaming turkey legs she had enjoyed. She had meant every word, ultimately. About this place feeling like home, and her staff feeling like family. It was pleasant, that way. And she hoped that feeling would continue. Astra was right. It had been a rocky start, but once things had smoothed over, everything seemed to even out. And now.. she had a family again. ‘Actually,’ Melvina thought, as she looked out at the Ravenclaw table, to one fifth-year prefect and one second-year teenager. ‘Two families, under one roof.’ “What a year,” she whispers, sipping her butterbeer once more.

(Faculty) “I would say they’ll at least survive the world when they leave my class, but I don’t think many really care about the subject.” Shrugging, Astra takes another drink and sets the goblet down. “I can’t really blame them; it’s not my favorite subject either. Who really wants to prepare to face off things that range from pests to outright dangers? Not really a pleasant subject at all.” “Most of them do what they have to in order to get by.”

(Faculty) Sylvie Winters-Geroff has remained mostly silent for the feast so far, though even she looked slightly pleased at Slytherin’s win. It would hardly do for her to say so of course. Now she contributes, “The first Divination professor I had was rather good; of course, Professor Love left while I was still young.” As if she’s terribly old now – but it was her fourth or fifth year. As the conversation moves on however, she quiets again, rather enjoying just being back for one feast.

(Faculty) “Ah, yes, well… that does make sense,” Bonnie answers. After all, it had not been her best subject by any means. “I never could quite cotton on to it, myself, anyway.” Pausing as the Minister speaks up, bonnie nods. “That will have been after I left school, I think, that Professor Love was there.” Stating this, Bonnie almost balks at herself. How is it she comes to be so much older than the Minister after all? “It’s a real pity that there were such poor teachers after.” Bonnie shakes her head again and sips her pumpkin juice, falling quiet.

(Faculty) Glancing at the Headmistress, Astra doesn’t quite scowl. “My own are coming in next year. I don’t know how you manage Melvina, I really don’t. I’m almost afraid of having my children as pupils.” Grabbing up the goblet, she sips again from the contents and grins at Bonnie’s words. “We had a few decent professors, but most of them were terrible really. The ones that were good I would have done anything for, they made me love being here. Then of course there were the terrible ones that I detested and they made school almost as unbearable and the horrible students.” “I think that the demand for quality is improving, rather than the Board just placing their favorites in positions. It’s good to see and it’s good to know that the students who leave us will have a solid education.”

(Faculty) “Oh, I do hope yours will take Divination when the time comes,” Bonnie comments cheerfully, finishing off the last of her food, though she leaves much of the stew in its bowl, mostly untouched. “I had better go set things to rights in my office before I head off for the summer,” the woman comments. “So very nice to meet you,” she addresses to the Minister for Magic and then smiles to the rest of the faculty. “See you soon,” she tells them all, giving a mock salute with a bit of a grin as she stands and makes her way out of the Great Hall.

Sitting at her desk in her office, Bonnie seems to have put off doing work for the day, and instead has her feet quite comfortably propped up on the corner of it. In her hands is a rather large text, the front of which states clearly that it is the most reliable source for tea reading tea types. Bonnie‘s eyebrows are knitted together as she scours the book, already more than half-way through it, with a hefty stack of notes next to her. The woman looks quite blissfully unaware of the real world going on around her, pausing and leaning forward to scribble some more notes onto her parchment.

Like a ship in full sail, Sibyl Wexler sweeps down the hallway at a fast-paced waddle, her rounded face flushed with the warmth of the springtime as well as the exertion of moving about the school’s numerous staircases and corridors so far along in her pregnancy. But the nurse’s usual energy does not seem to have been decreased at all, and she keeps up a steady running commentary as she moves down the corridor towards the Divination office with her eldest daughter at her side. “Now, we’re going to see what Professor Kensington has to say. Remember not to touch anything – the art classroom is one thing, but Professor Kensington will have all sorts of delicate things.” Sibyl breaks off to give a quick, emphatic knock at the door. “Professor? Are you free?”

“I know, mum,” Briony responds quietly, her cheeks reddening. “Do you have to say things like that in front of my friend?” she asks in an irritated whisper, but then they’re at the door of the Divination teacher’s office, and she stops abruptly, standing on tip-toes to try and see what the teacher looks like over her mother’s shoulder. “I hope she’s nice,” Briony whispers to Kalynn, sounding a good degree less irritated than the whisper she addressed her mother with only moments before.

Time for Kalynn to learn about what Briony has described to her as the ‘pretend subject’! Scampering after Briony, Kalynn nods in response to the nurse’s warning and makes a mental note to curb her enthusiasm for touching everything. Grinning, Kalynn nods. “She… she will be!” Kalynn says with some firmness, though her facial expression might suggest this is more of a hopeful statement than one based in experience of any kind. “She looks like a nice person…” she notes, looking from Briony to Sibyl.

“What?” Bonnie asks and sits up abruptly, causing her feet to come to the floor with a loud THUNK. “Oh, hello, Missus Wexler,” Bonnie greets her coworker and peers beyond her to look at the two girls. “I’m perfectly free,” she answers almost sounding gleeful. “Are these both yours?” she asks, looking at the two young girls behind Sibyl. “Prospective students, I assume?” Bonnie‘s voice has a very pleasant lilt to it as she comments on this to Sibyl, looking pleased that someone would even want to find out about it beforehand.

A brief glance over her shoulder is all the reprimand that Sibyl Wexler gives her daughter, and by the time she pushes through the door of the office, her smile has returned. “Oh, thank you, Professor. No, only one of them is mine – this is my eldest, Briony.” Maternal pride warms Sibyl‘s smile and voice as she reaches out to put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “And this is her friend Kalynn. Yes, both prospective students – if you’ve got a minute to spare for us, we’d all appreciate hearing what advice you might have.”

Grinning brightly as she is introduced, Briony steps forward, standing in front of her mother. “That’s my best friend,” she supplies after Kalynn is addressed by name. “Well, my other one.” This is assuming, of course, that Bonnie would even know she had one to begin with. Before she is even bidden to sit down, Briony plops into the nearest chair, her parchment poised and her quill ready to grab and take notes. “We’re thinking of taking Divination. Is it fun?” She wastes no time in asking her most important question, it seems, and she takes the quill from out of her hair, removing the bit of parchment that serves to keep her hair free of ink.

Kalynn gets an odd pang as Sibyl rests her hand on Briony, and looks down momentarily. The girl was at quite a loss as to why Briony so resented having her mother work at the school. Kalynn missed her mum every day! Briony was so lucky! Shaking off the feeling, though, Kalynn knows she should focus on the task at hand! Nodding as she is introduced, Kalynn gives the professor a toothy smile of excitement (likely, also, in response to Briony’s clarification) as she follows her friend into the room and sits down beside her. Kalynn hasn’t thought to bring a quill to take notes with, but surely she can look over Briony’s afterwards? All the same, Kalynn shoots Sibyl a bit of a worried glance before looking to Bonnie, awaiting the answer to the first question.

“Well, aren’t you a forward one?” Bonnie chuckles as the two of them sit in the only chairs available. “Here, Sibyl, have a seat,” Bonnie tells the other woman, bringing out her wand and summoning a chair to slide toward the room. “You must be tired of being on your feet already, trekking up here.” She pauses as she looks from Kalynn to Briony and back again. “Well, I would say it’s exciting, yes. You get to learn how to tell significant future events. Now, it’s not easy, and not everyone has the gift, but if you have the enthusiasm to at least try, then I think you’d do well in the class. For instance, the first semester of your Third Year will be spent drinking tea and then learning to read the dregs at the bottom.” Bonnie smiles warmly at this comment, hoping to easily win these two over as she has managed to do with several other students.

“Thank you!” Sibyl replies, with a little more fervor and relief than she had expected from herself. She glances quickly down at Briony, checking her daughter’s reaction to her own moment of vulnerability, but is soon too caught up in the business of lowering herself down into the chair to watch Briony for much longer. WIth a small sigh, Sibyl stretches her feet out in front of her, and settles down to listen to her colleague’s speech.

“Oh, tea!” Briony responds cheerfully, looking to Kalynn. “It can’t be so bad if you can drink tea in the class.” She pauses. “Do we get cookies with it, too?” Ah, the important things in life! Briony scribbles Tea at the top of her parchment and something else that seems to be entirely unintelligible as she finally remembers to put the header at the top: Divanation.

Nodding to Briony, Kalynn agrees with, “No class is bad with tea,” before putting a finger to her chin and reconsidering slightly. “Except… charms would still be hard, even with tea…” The little girl looks down slightly before glancing back up with a grin. “Even if there wasn’t cookies, it’d still be good. So, what kind of tea is it?” Nevermind the rest of the curriculum, Kalynn needed to know exactly what to be prepared for!

“No, no cookies,” Bonnie tells them with a chuckle. “Unfortunately, the tea is just for practical use, but it is a good part of the class. It’s just plain black tea, is all. Though I’ve been researching different types of tea and their affect on the accuracy of the reading. Until I finish my research, though, we’re staying to the black tea.” Bonnie pats her book as she says this, directing to the book about types of tea. She smiles at Sibyl and quirks her head a bit. “Is there anything you’d like to know about the class itself?” she asks, trying to direect the conversation to more the idea of why she assumes they have come.

A patient, affectionate smile settles over Sibyl‘s face as she listens to the girls’ chattering questions and commentary, and she lets out a soft sigh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes heavenward. “Yes, I’m sure there is plenty that they’d like to know,” she says, agreeing gently but pointedly with the professor’s suggestion. “Such as, what types of books you’ll be reading?” Sibyl gives first Briony and then Kalynn a raised-eyebrow look. “And what sorts of special projects the class has?”

“Oh, right” Briony responds, looking over her shoulder at her mother. “I forgot my list.” With a pause, she turns back to Bonnie, glancing at Kalynn quickly. “What kind of projects do we have to do in the class? Are they really hard?” Briony widens her eyes, an expression which seems to want to look interested, but ends up looking a bit intense and perhaps, at the same time, a bit silly. It is another moment before she shakes her head and relaxes her face to normal, stifling a giggle while she waits for Bonnie’s answer.

Kalynn doesn’t know if she’s ever had plain black tea. Though, this is why one went to school, wasn’t it? To learn! To experience! “Divination books, obviously!” she echoes reasonably to Sybil’s question with a smirk. Kalynn nods excitedly as she tries to curb her thoughts into thinking of a professional-sounding question. Adding to Briony, Kalynn asks, “Yes, because I can sometimes be rather bad at projects. Will you help us if they’re hard?” she questions, looking not quite so intense as Briony, though her brows are furrowed.

Bonnie bites her lips, looking from one girl to the other, obviously trying not to laugh. The other students who had come to see her had not been quite so silly about it. In fact, they had all been rather straightforward. There is a moment of silence while Bonnie formulates how she ought to phrase it for two girls such as this. “Well, the projects will challenge you, but you’ll have everything you need to complete them before I assign them to you, and of course, you can always come to see me. My office hours are posted on that bulletin board in the classroom. I’m not sure if you noticed it, but if you’re going to take this class, you’ll want to acquaint yourselves with it. Of course, you have time.” Bonnie chuckles as she notes this and looks at the two cheerfully. “Any more questions?”

With another sigh of amused despair at the hope of her daughter and her friend ever considering anything practical, Sibyl shakes her head. “Perhaps you’d like to know what sorts of things Divination can be useful for, later on?” she prompts, in one last effort to push the giggling girls into something approaching a focus on the matter at hand. “Jobs, and that sort of thing?”

“Well, of course, mum, telling the future,” Briony answers quickly with a giggle. “Everybody knows that. I heard someone talking about how they pay people at the Ministry to do it, and Dad’s talked about people doing it at the Daily Prophet, too, for their horoscope sections. Isn’t that bully?” Briony seems to be directing this more to Kalynn than to her mother and she giggles. “I forget the rest of my questions. Do you have some, Kalynn?” Briony bounces visibly in her chair as she asks this.

Shrugging, Kalynn asks, “Can we owl you if we think of any more questions, professor Kensington? It’s hard to think of things on the spot, you know?” Kalynn nods as she glances to Sibyl, hoping not to see a look of disappointment. “The class sounds really great,” Kalynn says to the professor. “At least, I’m looking forward to it!”

“Certainly you can,” Bonnie answers quickly, smiling to both of the girls and standing. “And you’re welcome to come see me any time if you think of something. I’m here quite often.” Pausing a moment, Bonnie holds up a hand and slides her drawer open, pulling out a tin and opening it. Inside are cookies of many different assortments. “Have one,” she tells them with a wink to Sibyl, and she holds the tin out to them.

There is neither disappointment nor displeasure on Sibyl‘s face, just the same fond, tolerant smile, and she exchanges a quick look with Bonnie, followed by a slight shrug. What can be done with children like this? Nothing except to say, “It’s all right to have a few cookies, girls. But don’t dawdle too long – we’ve still got to meet with the art professor. Thank you for letting us talk to you, Professor Kensington.”

“Oh, thank you!” Briony responds quickly and takes two cookies — after all, she mustn’t be greedy. Beaming happily at the woman, the girl stands up. “I’m definitely taking Divination, what do you say, Kalynn?” she asks her friend, giving a boisterous wave to the Divination teacher as she practically skips out of the room behind her mother. “Drinking tea and predicting the future sounds like a lot of fun!” The girl giggles loudly as she makes her way out of the office and through the classroom, bound for the hallway.

“Oh yes,” Kalynn confirms, cheerfully taking a cookie, too. “Most definitely!” A bit of a giggle escapes the girl before she remembers her manners: “Oh, thank you!” she says quickly over her shoulder. Waving as well, Kalynn comments, “And you said it was a pretend class!” to Briony with a grin as she leaves the Divination room.

Leaning back in the chair at her desk, Bonnie is, for once, not grading papers. It appears as if the woman has actually finished her grading for the day. Instead, the woman has a book with moving pictures on it, declaring that ACTION and ADVENTURE and THRILLS are contained within its covers. Though her expression is rather blank, it is clear that the woman is rather lost in the book, given her unusually casual posture in a place where students could easily see her.

Tentatively making her way into the classroom, hesitating as she steps into the entrance/bagroom area, Kelly clutches a few books closely to her chest and says nothing for a long moment, this in itself rather uncharacteristic of her. After a moment, she shuffles into the main classroom, offering a quiet call of, “Professor Kensington?” and clinging the books closer to her body like some kind of security blanket. Why did she decide to do this? Why? Well, because Divination is the only subject she’s passingly good at, she needs to brag about it in some way. But… why?

The voice startles Bonnie, and she looks up sharply from her book, snapping it shut and placing it onto her desk gently. “Miss Pantall, yes…” The teacher clears her throat. “How can I help you? It’s not often I see you in here after classes are done.” She stands up from her desk and smooths her robes down, as if reading the book had somehow mussed them. Pulling a tin out of her drawer, she strides around the desk and opens it up. “Biscuit?”

Clearing her throat audibly, not quite meeting Bonnie’s eye, and still clutching the books tightly to her chest, Kelly does try to smile as she approaches, though it is a smile tinged with nervousness. “Er. I was wondering if I could – oh, yes please,” she is distracted only halfway through her point, daring to reach out from her tightly held books to take one, before continuing on. “I was wondering if I could – for extra credit, in Divination, um…” Her actual point is lost to her nervousness, but it is presumed that there is a point in there somewhere.

Waiting for a moment or two for Kelly to answer, Bonnie closes the tin and a silence falls between them. “You were saying, Miss Pantall?” she asks, gesturing her hand to coax the words out of the third-year’s mouth. “You’ve never had reason to be shy with me before, Kelly. What’s bothering you?” Bonnie looks genuinely concerned as she says this and crosses her arms, tin still in hand, as she fixes her arms steadily on the Gryffindor girl.

“I… things haven’t been going well.” Kelly explains quietly, cheeks flushing pink, and eyes turning to the ground. “I need something to focus on for a while. So, I was wondering if, for extra credit in Divination, I could pursue… extra studies.” A small, shy little smile playing on her lips, she looks up at the Professor and offers, tentatively, “I’d still like to try and find out who – who Jack the Ripper was, with your permission and assistance. I think – I mean, what if I do succeed, huh? Then everyone will know and, and, it’ll be really great!” Some of her nervousness dissipates, here, letting loose her usual eagerness and excitement about this topic – rather more restrained than usual, but unmistakeably present.

“Well, if you can write out a proposal of what you plan to do and how, then I might be able to see about some extra credit,” Bonnie tells the girl. “And all things considered, you aren’t doing that badly, Kelly.” Her voice softens as she says this. “At least you’re turning your things in when they’re due. You could use to invest in a spell-checking quill, however.” Bonnie smiles a bit at her as she says this, leaning against a nearby table, and then holding out the tin to Kelly for another biscuit before taking one for herself.

Blushing a bit more strongly pink, Kelly takes the offered biscuit with a slightly shaking hand. “I should double-check these things.” She concedes – even in her quiet nervousness, however, she is not willing to admit to an actual deficit in her skills in any area. “I’m much, much better at the practical work, though, aren’t I, Professor Kensington?” Tapping the cover of one of the books, she continues to explain, “This book details how the mind can be sort of thrown to a certain thing while Divining, how when some people are really, really, really good, they can make themselves see what they want to see rather than just… whatever. I’d like to try it, Professor, even if I’m not that good yet – if I try now, I will be one day.”

“Yes, you are good at the practical exercises,” the teacher answers with a nod, patting Kelly on the shoulder. “If you can match that in your theory, I’d say you’ll be a shoe-in for excellent marks in Divination.” Yes, Bonnie is feeling very nice today, hence, the biscuits. “And you really must calm down. Nothing in here is going to eat you.” Pausing and looking at the book that Kelly has procured, Bonnie studies it thoughtfully. “Now, myself, I would be more inclined to have you use the Guide first, and then refer to that, but as it is your project, I will not lay down any mandates. I would like you to write out how you plan to go about finding this out, and what methods of divination you would use. Remember, a good Divinator always checks her work on things like this.”

Nodding in response to this, beaming quite brightly despite her nervousness and less than ideal mood, it seems that Kelly is no longer regretting her choice to approach Bonnie about Divination. “It’s – I really want to try and find out, Professor Kensington, both because I really want to know and because I – I need something to focus on, because as I said, I’ve not been having an excellent couple of weeks.” She hesitates, her expression turning hesitant and thoughtful again, and she adds, “Er. Can I – can I ask your advice on a more personal matter?” She bites down on her lower lip and flushes quite pink, lowering her eyes back down towards the ground, almost as if she’s half-hoping for a ‘no’.

“Certainly you can, Kelly,” Bonnie tells the girl and glances around the empty classroom. “Let’s go into my office,” she suggest, not waiting long enough for an affirmative response before turning with her tin and striding towards her office. Once inside, she takes a seat behind her desk and gets comfortable while she waits for Kelly to situate herself before the desk in one of the plush chairs that Bonnie has supplied for purposes such as this. “Now, what was it you wanted my advice on?”

Seeming quite startled by the passage into her office, Kelly bites at her bottom lip as she sits down awkwardly, taking a moment to formulate a response. “Er. Professor Kensington, how do you get someone you like to stop being angry with you? And how do you get someone who likes you to stop it?” Another moment of hesitation, though she evidently has an intention to keep asking questions, but finding herself unable to correctly formulate words. “And… if you have a friend, who you like a lot, but only as a friend,” these last few words are added hurriedly, as if she expects some kind of contrary accusation, “and he likes you – only as a friend!” Once again, rather rushed words, “How do you stop everyone else from thinking that you’re not… just friends?”

“Well, I don’t know that there’s a way around someone getting the wrong idea about someone you’re friends with. People will talk. So the only thing I can recommend in that respect is for you to write in your journal about how much it frustrates you, to get out the frustration, and then ignore it.” Bonnie pauses as she says this, reaching out to take a cookie out of her tin. “About this friend who is angry with you… have you apologized to this friend for what he or she is angry at you about?” Bonnie keeps an impartial expression on her face as she munches her cookie and studies Kelly’s face.

Hesitating again, biting down a little harder on her lower lip and averting her eyes from the Professor, the girl looks utterly pathetic, as well as uncertain about whether she should explain further. “The one who’s angry with me… isn’t so much a friend.” There’s an insinuation in Kelly‘s tone, implying that it is more rather than less, here. “And he’s angry because… people are talking. About me and my other friend. Er. Do you get it?” Her cheeks are flushed quite pink at this point, and her hands, such as they can be seen, clutching her books to her chest so tightly that her knuckles are white, are shaking a little. “So I don’t know if I can apologise for that.”

After a moment of pause, Bonnie finally responds. “You can have no control over the reactions of others, Kelly. If he’s getting so worked up over the rumors, perhaps he’s not the right one to be your friend.” Bonnie seems to have mulled over how to say this for several moments and is perhaps a bit unsure of how to broach such a thing. “In all honesty, Kelly, if he is your friend, then he ought to be your friend regardless of what other people say, especially if you’re completely honest with him in telling him that such things are completely untrue.”

Sighing heavily, Kelly leans back in the chair, affecting a completely despondent expression. Really, she is being rather over-dramatic about the whole issue, but by the same token, she is a fourteen year old girl and therefore has the right to be dramatic about such things. “That’s what Miss Eliza said, too.” She offers quietly. “But I don’t want to, to stop being his friend, Professor Kensington. Not really. I… I really like him. He gave me a book, once… and he wrote me a letter…” This seems to be about all she has to say, and she trails off into an uneasy silence.

“Well, Kelly, ultimately you have to decide what is best for you. Does this friend mean more to you than the other, about whom the rumors are going around?” While Bonnie has expected this to come with her job, she finds herself slightly unsure of what to say to the student, given her own tendencies and preferences in terms of friends and relationships. “It’s hard to say without being in your shoes, dear, but remember that you have to weigh whether your friendship with him is worth the stress that it seems to be causing you.”

Flushed even brighter pink, clinging her books even closer to her chest, Kelly is silent for a moment, thinking. Judging from her expression the thoughts coming to her are hardly desirable ones. “Prof – Professor Kensington…” She trails off, unable to verbalise her thoughts for a moment longer. “If I… if I have to choose between them, I’d have to choose my, my rumour friend… but I don’t want to have to choose, Professor.” Hesitating for a moment longer, she offers quietly, “And how… how do you make someone stop liking you, Professor?”

“You can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to, Kelly,” Bonnie tells the girl, then pauses. “Well, you could, but it’s not something you should be trying to do. Only those who stoop to lows would actively pursue something like that.” Bonnie reaches out to pat Kelly on the shoulder and looks at the young girl pensively for a moment. “Try not to trouble yourself too much about it, though, Kelly. These friendships may wane over time, and in the end, you’ve only yourself to count on. Remember that, hmm?” Bonnie smiles slightly at Kelly as she says this, leaning back in her seat.

Hesitating for a moment, chewing at her bottom lip awkwardly, it is a long time before Kelly manages to get her thoughts together for long enough to reply sensibly. “Prof – professor Kensington, it’s just so hard.” Sighing heavily, if a little overdramatically, she continues to explain. “I’ve already stopped being friends with one girl, and now I think that was mostly his fault. And now, if I have to choose between him and him…” Exactly which ‘him’ she means where is quite lost in her recitation, and she doesn’t look up at the Professor. “I can’t… I can’t be alone forever. I just can’t…”

“You don’t have to be, Kelly. I’m just saying not to let them get to you too much, alright? Don’t let yourself get lost in them. Now, as for not wanting to lose them, sit each of them down and have a chat with them. If he or he has too much of a problem with it, then it simply won’t be worth your time and energy to fret over it. If they truly like you for you, Kelly, then they’ll understand.” Bonnie holds out the tin of cookies again toward Kelly, beckoning for the girl to take one, or perhaps three.

Given that she’s dating probably the least understanding of all Hufflepuffs, this advice is probably both very good and the least likely thing the dismal Kelly will listen to and follow. However, she does appear to be listening, even if she has no intention of carrying it out as such, so it’s a good start. Smiling a thin, vague sort of smile, and reaching out for another cookie – just one, she’s not being greedy about it – she is silent for a moment, thinking this over. “I don’t know what good it could possibly do, Professor, but… it’s just so complex, Professor. I hate rumours.”

“Is there a way for you to get out around the school that those rumors aren’t true? Perhaps confront those who are spreading them, or put up notices in places where they will see them. If they bother you, Kelly, you have to do something about it. It is my experience that they simply will not stop on their own.” In this, Bonnie is very right, though the fact that it still happens makes it clear that children will not stop or learn this principle, no matter how well they know it. “I’m very sorry this is happening to you, though, Kelly. It, unfortunately, is a part of life. Just try to find a way to stop it, and also a way to vent your frustration, alright?”

Though she does hesitate for a moment, it does not seem that Kelly finds this advice terribly applicable. After a moment, she offers, still nibbling on the edge of her cookie, “I can’t see how it would make it any better to put up big signs that say ‘Kelly Pantall is not dating Charlie Linwood’. For a start, people wouldn’t think there’d be any point denying it if it wasn’t true or something. And also, well, it’s just a bit weird.” And we all know that Kelly would never do something that can be construed as weird, of course not. After another moment of silence, she sighs heavily, slumping down a little. “If I could saddle rumour with the truth, it’d be good. But only the bits of the truth that aren’t secret. Because it’s not like I can just tell anyone the whole truth if they ask me about it.”

Looking at Kelly, Bonnie appears to have now got out of her element, a fact which does not sit well with her. “The only thing I can suggest, then, Kelly, is for you to journal about it a lot. Take out your frustration with that. Perhaps you could also join the Quidditch team next year if there are any openings. That could also help you relieve yourself of the frustration from the rumors. There isn’t any way to make people stop talking, unfortunately. Believe me, that’s the one secret everyone wants to know how to do. But, people will talk.” Bonnie reaches out and makes to pat Kelly on the hand, though Kelly sitting in the chair across does make this a difficult gesture.

Offering a small half-smile to the Professor as she reaches out, Kelly sits in thoughtful silence for a moment. When she speaks, it seems less because she has something that needs saying and more because the silence is beginning to feel awkward. “Well, I would kind of like to join the team, but I don’t think there are any open positions. If there are tryouts, I’ll go just to see… but I wouldn’t be a very good Seeker, you know? Or a Keeper or a Chaser. I can’t catch very well.” Another pause, a much shorter one, though still entirely thoughtful. “I suppose I could be a Beater. I’ve been told I’d be good at that.” Sure, it was a nod to her anger management rather than to her strength, but it’s more or less a compliment either way. “Charlie’s a Beater, though. That might be slightly problematic. Me an’ my best friend being Beaters on opposing teams…”

“You’re in different houses without it causing a problem, aren’t you? You just have to remember that the quidditch match is only once a year, and then you have to be friends with him the rest of the time. If you’re truly good friends, then it shouldn’t get in the way of your friendship to be on opposing teams.” Bonnie pauses. “Think of it like a game of chess. You wouldn’t stop being friends over a game of chess, would you?” The woman smiles a bit to the girl and withdraws her hand. “And if you really don’t think you could play against him, well, then perhaps it’s best to go back to the journal anyway.”

“In a game of chess, you aren’t trying to hit iron balls at each other.” Kelly points out, though she does giggle quietly over her own remark. “I get what you’re saying, Professor. I – I think I’ll try out for the team anyway, though, because, well, more than one person has encouraged me.” A pause, and she adds, “I write in my journal all the time, but I still don’t feel like I can be completely honest with it. I mean, what if someone else gets their hands on it and reads it? I can write about some things, but not about everything. Not the secrets, and the secrets are big, too…” Another tentative nibble of the cookie in her hand follows. Then, she chomps down the rest of the cookie all at once. No point in being tentative about it now.

“It seems to me that you need to learn and master the locking charm, Kelly,” Bonnie states frankly, scooting her chair back quickly. She walks over to the bookcase nearby and starts running her fingers over the books quickly. “Aha, here.” She slips a book out from the shelf and sits down again at her desk, quickly leafing through it. She continues until she is about three quarters of the way through the book and stops. “Here’s a charm that can help you lock your journal shut,” Bonnie tells her, holding out the book and turning it around so that Kelly can see the charm she’s pointing to. “You can borrow the book until you master it. I’d be careful doing it too much on the same object, though. Try to find an old book that you don’t need anymore, or perhaps a door that can be replaced first. Once you master that, you needn’t worry about someone getting it and reading it, because only the person who locks it can unlock it, with the exception of very skilled wizards.”

Though Kelly does take the book and inspects the page explaining the charm carefully, she seems hesitant about it all; perhaps because she feels uncomfortable being encouraged to use magic outside of class, even by a teacher, or perhaps simply because of her consistently poor efforts in Charms and other related subjects. Either way, she offers a small smile, adding the book to her pile. “Thank you, Professor Kensington.” She offers quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… thank you.” This seems to be all that comes to her mind, so she merely sits awkwardly for a while, watching the Professor in silence.

Sensing that Kelly doesn’t seem to have much more to say, Bonnie smiles congenially. “That charm ought to help you, if you can master it, and then you can feel free to rant as you like.” A pause. “Now, get off to supper. I don’t want you to starve to death on my account.” Bonnie stands as she says this, and it doesn’t seem to occur to her that Kelly came to her to seek advice rather than the other way around. “Come and see me whenever you need to,” Bonnie chimes as well, glancing around her office and making her way around the desk to look out into the still-empty classroom. Sometime, Bonnie is likely to remember what she had been doing before the student joined her, but for the moment, she is content to see Kelly out and then endeavor to remember.

Smiling again at the Professor – her expression tinged with a certain sincerity that it lacked before – Kelly stands, adjusting the pile of books in her arms and turns to leave. For a moment, it seems that she is about to leave in silence, but she hesitates on the way out, offering a whispered, “I’ll see you in class, Professor? I’ll – I’ll have my research proposition written up for you as soon as I can.” While, indeed, the extra-credit task was really just an excuse to come and ask the Professor for advice, but it would be wrong to indicate that the girl is actually disinterested in the idea. On that last note, she makes her exit, careful to keep her things in order. It is with a thoughtful expression that she leaves; whatever else the conversation achieved, it gave her something to reflect on.