Don't Tickle a Sleeping Slytherin   von Lhasbelin
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                            Kapitel 1: Chapter One
                            ----------------------


The first thing to catch my notice is the stench. I groan. The smell is just
awful. Is it? It doesn’t smell that different. Confused by my own conflicting
thoughts I try to open my eyes. I blink. The light is too bright at first. I
struggle to sit up and look around. Where am I? I don’t recognize my
surroundings. The small street is dark and dingy now that my eyes have adjusted
to the light. I turn my head to see if I can find out more and wince. 
My head is pounding. Now that I notice my neck and back hurt as well, the cobble
stone road is far from comfortable. Cobble stone? Well, whatever is left of the
cobble stones in the small crater I’m lying in. Looking around again
carefully, the houses lining the street near me strike me as odd. They are not
like the old buildings in my hometown. They seem older somehow – and younger.
I am unsure what to make of them. They are damaged though from what I cannot
tell. The damage is far too tame to have been inflicted by modern bombs and they
don’t seem to fit what I’ve seen of the aftermath of earthquakes on
television. But damaged they are. Some are cracked and seem to be
half-collapsed. 

I try to get up and freeze. Black hair. What? My hair is brownish blond. And
yet, the hair falling in my face is black. I raise my hand and touch the hair.
Ouch. Yep. It’s definitely mine – pulling at it hurts. Wait. Are those my
hands? They seem so small… I struggle to my feet and pat myself down. I seem
to be mostly unhurt. Then I look up again. What? My whole perspective seems
skewed. I didn’t realize it while I was sitting, but now that I’m standing
– Everything is… The proportions are wrong. It’s like I’m still sitting
down. I look to my feet. Yep. The floor, the cobble stone fragments beneath my
feet seem far too close. Did I… shrink?  I pat myself down again, this time
paying more attention. The first time I only checked if anything hurt. What the
heck? This is not my body. Which would explain the wrong hair colour but… how?
What happened? I shake my head to clear my thoughts; something I regret
instantly. My vision swims. I blink repeatedly trying to clear it. It doesn't
matter what I seem to look like now. That can wait. I still have no idea where I
am. I should get to safety, well, off the road at least. Then I can think about
the rest but this place does not strike me as safe. The house right next to me
is still crumbling. 

I turn around only to see a big man (Is he really that big or am I just that
small in comparison?) walking towards me. I back away and stumble. The ground is
really uncomfortable to fall down on. He smiles sadly. “Hello child.” Child?
I am not a child! Oh… well, it would explain my height. Wait, what? That would
mean… I shake my head and then ground my teeth to keep away the urge to hurl.
My head’s still pounding.

“Are you alright, Child? Are you hurt?” 
“I’m fine.”
“No, child. You are not. But you will be. Do not worry. What hurts?”
“My… head.” 
He just nods and takes my hand. “What is your name, child?”
Hesitatingly I answered. Should I lie? “N…Nora.” 
“Ah. Honoria.” 
“Honora.” I nodded. Well, it is one of the two names my name could’ve
originated from, so I guess it doesn’t matter. 
“It is nice to meet you, Honoria.” I note that not only did he mispronounce
my presumed name – but since it is a presumed name what does it matter – he
also does not introduce himself. 

“What happened?” Maybe he knows more and I can find out what was going on,
but my hopes are dashed. He does not answer. Instead he asks me where I am from.
He accepts my shrugging as an answer and nods to himself. “Shock.” He
mumbles to himself. 

“Well.” A smile is turned my way. “Do not worry. We’ll figure it out.”
He tugs at my hand – in my confusion I missed the fact that he was still
holding onto it – and starts down the street. “Come.” 

Should I trust him? I struggle with myself. I’m not in the habit of trusting
some random stranger. Then again, he is the only friendly face I’ve seen here
and probably my only chance of figuring out what the heck happened and where
ended up. Even if I tried to run, without any knowledge of the lay of the land I
don’t think I’d stand much of a chance of getting away. I sigh and resolve
to follow the man for now. 

He leads me through the village? City?... It seems too small for a city, but
given the stench, the layout of the narrow streets, the rudimentary quality of
the houses… I’m either in the past – which is impossible – or in some
LARP area, where the people are freaking perfectionists. And with perfectionists
I mean right down to the last detail. It smells worse than the sewage plant we
visited in primary school. They really take this stuff seriously.

The guy is talking to me soothingly though I ignore his words in favour of
observing him. He is big – and I have always been bad at guessing someone’s
height – maybe 1 metre 75, 1 metre 80. He must lead an active life, given his
muscles, and he has a lot of hair. His face is almost hidden by his red hair and
his beard. It reminds me a bit of Gimli. Not that he’s wearing dwarven armour
or anything. He isn’t wearing any kind of armour that I’d recognize now that
I think about it. Just some weird clothes. Not a LARP theme that I’d recognize
easily then. I sigh, and start to pay attention to what he’s saying to me.
He’s still babbling nonsense, something about how I’d be fine, that I
didn’t have to worry, he’d take care of me. That I was lucky I was a witch
– wait what? What’s he talking about? A witch? Isn’t he taking the LARP
thing a bit too far? I certainly hope it’s not a historically realistic LARP
since I have no wish to burn – or pretend to burn – at a stake. 

I try to ignore my errant thoughts (with medium success) and try to play along.
“A what?” I mean, don’t get me wrong, being a witch would be awesome. I
just don’t trust the guy nor do I trust the situation. There are too few
people around. I’ve never been to a real LARP, so I can’t be sure, but from
what I’ve seen of the renaissance festival a couple of towns over, I expected
a lot more people running around and not just potentially hiding in houses and
being out of sight, if they’re even there.

The guy stops and lowers himself so that he’s at my eye level. “You’re a
witch, Honoria. You can use magic.” 
I stare at him in disbelief (Is that guy for real? Isn’t he taking this a bit
too far?) which he seems to mistake as fear. 
“Do not worry.” He smiles soothingly. “Witchcraft and Magic are not evil.
You are a witch, just like I am a wizard.” Riiiiight. Okay. Let’s just play
along for now. I nod uneasily and he smiles.

“Ah. There we are.” He stops in front of a small house I would’ve
overlooked otherwise. The house has a sign I try to make out while he pulls me
inside. Oli… Uli… Oliw… Ollivander?! A Harry Potter … 
My thoughts freeze as soon as I see the interior of the shop. My jaw drops, I
think, though I can’t be sure. I stare. This is definitely NOT a LARP then. 

Dimly, I hear the shopkeeper greet my guide with “Good afternoon, Mr.
Gryffindor.” 
Gryffindor? As in GODRIC GRYFFINDOR?? Oh. My. God. THE Godric Gryffindor?! The
founder?! How? How did I end up here? And… Is that REALLY Godric Gryffindor? I
can’t help but stare at the man. Now that I look at him, I can see why the
Gryffindor animal is a lion. He kind of resembles one with that mane of red. 

I shake my head again – bad idea – and try to focus on what they’re
saying. Godric is telling what must be this time’s Mr., no, now that I focus
at the person instead of the clearly magical interior of the shop, Mrs. (or
Miss… I wonder if she’s born as or married to an) Ollivander that he found
me in the middle of a street right here in Lundenburh by which he must mean the
London of his, well, this time. 

“Her name is Honoria.” He pushed me in front of him. “Honoria, meet Miss
Gaia Ollivander. She is the resident wand maker.”

Gaia smiles toothlessly. “Shy, huh? No matter. We’ll find a wand for you,
don’t worry.” While she bustles off to find a wand for me to try presumably,
Godric turns to me and asks me how much I remember from earlier. Since I have no
idea what happened and how I ended up here so that his guess is as good as mine
if not better, I only shake my head. Which, again, seems to suffice as an
answer. 

“Hm.” He nods. “Do not worry, Child.” Worry? Who has time for worry, I
am halfway between elation and panic. I mean. I’m in Harry Potter, well not
really. Wrong time. But apparently I am somewhere in the Potterverse. How cool
is that?! And Godric brought me to buy a wand and told me that I’m a witch –
which I can’t believe quite yet – but if it’s true… That would mean I
can do magic. Magic. Real, genuine magic. That I can wield. Holy mother of…
magic. That is like a childhood dream come true. I remember joking around with
friends, that our letters got lost since Voldie’s men destroyed the
documentation – never mind the fact that none of us were born in the UK. To
actually be here… if this is a prank, I’m going to murder someone. This is
awesome. And ---

Mrs. Ollivander hands me a wand made of some darkish wood that she snatches away
again almost as soon as she handed it to me. Not that I mind, it felt… icky. I
don’t know how else to describe it. She hands me two others, both more
comfortable than the first, only to take them away again as well all the while
grumbling that they’re not right. She walks away again looking for other wands
and Godric turns to reassure me.

“Don’t worry, sometime it takes some time to find the right wand.” Yeah, I
know. I read Harry Potter’s trials to get a wand. Trying to distract me – at
least that’s my guess – he begins to tell me about the magic school he
recently founded with some friends.
“It’s not much of a school yet. The first year is about to start, you can
join if you want. We will teach all kinds of magical children. My friends and I
want to pass on the knowledge we gained on our travels. Are you interested?” 
Is he kidding? Of course I am. The chance to visit Hogwarts… I nod frantically
and groan again. Not a good idea to move my head that euphorically. I feel
slightly sick and my head resumes pounding as if there is no tomorrow. I grit my
teeth to ride it out. Godric promises me to take me to a healer after I find a
wand. At least I think that’s what he said, I wasn’t really listening right
there and then.
Mrs. Ollivander returns with a handful of wands for me to try out. The first of
the new batch zaps me, and the second one does not react to me at all, but the
third… the third… The third feels like coming home.



                            Kapitel 2: Chapter Two
                            ----------------------


That third wand greets me with a shower of green and blue-ish white sparks. I
stare at them in fascination. Did I do this? How? I'm a Muggle, I don't... That
is magic. Magic that I did. Oh my god. When Godric told me I am a witch, I kind
of thought him nuts, sure, I wanted to believe him but...  this. This is proof.
I was holding that wand. I made those sparks. That wand chose me. Little old
normal up-to-today-magicless me. This is... awesome! I mean... magic. Honest to
god magic. That I apparently can do.
 
I only barely listen to Mrs. Ollivander's explanation of the wand that I chose
(not the wand that chose me? I am confused but do not really care at this
point): Twelve and a half inches of willow wood with a core of Hippogriff Talon.
I wrack my brain trying to remember what the characteristics of both wood and
core are but I cannot remember. Mrs. Ollivander only mentions that it is a rare
combination and that it will do me good service. Very different from what I am
used to when it comes to reading about Garrick Ollivander. She smiles and tells
me – I must have looked confused – that I will get to know my wand and learn
its traits. Perceived characteristics should be ignored according to her,
because they can be misleading.
 
Godric pays her for my wand and I completely missed the price… Oh my god, I
don’t have any money here. How am I supposed to pay for anything? What do I
have to pay for anyway? School? School utensils? Now I’m worried. Of course I
want to go to Hogwarts but can I even afford that? Do they trade knowledge for
labour? Can I, Will I have to help out with things in return? Do they even use
Galleons, Sickles and Knuts yet? If yes what are they worth? What about muggle
money? Wait. He called me a child. I’m a child. I don’t need to know stuff
like this (I hope). It’s not like I can just ask… right? I sigh uneasily and
try to repress the rising panic. What am I even doing here?
 
Godric drops his hand on my shoulder and manoeuvres me to the exit. “Let’s
go to see a healer.” Oh, yes please. My pain tolerance may be relatively high
(at least according to my friends) but that does not mean that I like the
discomfort. Something for the recurring headache would be quite nice. And lying
on the ground with some small still bleeding scratches can’t have been that
hygienic either… Let’s not go there.
 
I follow Godric further down the winding road and – did that sign just now say
Diagon alley?! –  to a small building that looks ready to collapse. It does
not look structurally sound but Godric enters and reluctantly so do I. The
inside is… crowded. Oh, we are the only two people inside apart from the
shopkeeper yet I still feel crowded. Every single inch of the walls is covered
in shelves, we barely have enough room in here to stand next to each other
because of the many tables which are also completely covered in things. He seems
to have brought me to an apothecary, I think. Most of the stuff I can see I
can’t make heads or tails of. Then again, that could be caused by the almost
non-existent light. It is so dim, I can’t really see Godric right next to me.
He’s a silhouette nothing more.
 
The shopkeeper asks how he can help us and Godric nudges me forward. 
“I have a---“, I start to say but he interrupts me.
 
 “A headache. Let me see.” The shopkeeper is suddenly right in front of me
– when did he move? – and pointing his wand between my eyes making me
cross-eyed. He mutters something too quietly to make out words. He hums and
mutters some more. (It makes me want to ask if he’s capable of more or if
he’s just a charlatan. Since I trust Godric to bring me to a real healer and
not some phony, I refrain.) He nods and hums and mutters for several minutes. I
don’t want to be impatient but the desire to ask what the heck he’s doing is
growing. Finally he nods again – more decisively this time – and puts the
wand away. “Magical exhaustion.” He says and walks away to rummage around in
the back of the room.
 
Magical exhaustion? From what, I wonder. It’s not like I did anything, heck, I
shouldn’t have magic. I don’t. Well, I didn’t. Until today, whenever today
is. Thinking about it, when did they found Hogwarts? Somewhere around the year
1000 if I remember correctly – around meaning somewhere in between 950 and
1050… Hey, isn’t that also the time when Genji[1] was written? … Okay, no.
Concentrate. First things first. Concentrate on the here and now (when is now?),
worry about such things later, Nor---, no, you’re Honoria now, I remind
myself.
 
Whoa. What’s that smell? I blink and when I return to the present (whenever
that is, no. concentrate!) I realize that the shopkeeper is holding out a vial.
 
“Drink this. That should take care of things.” The headache I think he
means, not the magical exhaustion. It would be awesome if there was a potion for
that… and way too easy probably. He hands me the vial and I frown. It smells
awful – the smell alone makes me want to hurl it back up – but I grit my
teeth (figuratively not literally obviously) and drink that foul concoction. I
gag. The taste is even worse than the smell. But it is well worth it. Mere
seconds later my headache clears and I feel almost human again. Almost. Now that
the headache is gone, I feel… tired, no, weary. Should’ve known that magical
exhaustion involves more symptoms than a simple headache.
 
Godric smiles, hands the man some coins (I think are Knuts – I am paying
attention this time – but I can’t be sure) and leads me back outside.
“Since we are here already, we can buy some things you will soon need.”
That… kinda sounds ominous. Following him, I am starting like a duckling. I
don’t like the feeling. He drags me along to buy some things: a set of robes,
an abacus (okay… this is gonna be fun. I have no idea how to use that thing),
a telescope (I get my own?), brass scales, a couple of vials, some gloves
(though looking at them I doubt they have more use than just an aesthetic one,
they seem so flimsy), a cloak, a couple of daggers (or are they knives?). He
doesn’t explain, just goes from one shop to the next expecting me to follow
and rambling about some mock duel he fought, because we or rather he saw the
wife of his former opponent’s second cousin thrice removed (Does a distant
relation like that even still matter). I tune him out and try to find out more
about this time. Not that there is much to see right here and now.
 
He is paying in Knuts. I have not seen a single Sickle yet, let alone a Galleon.
Do they exist yet? If so, what are they worth – given past, err, future
inflation… are they even ‘needed’ yet? Because I think I remember a
telescope costing a couple of Galleons and Godric paid three Knuts.
There are few people in the streets but then again how many do even live here
in, what was it?, Lunden… Lundenburh? The streets are filthy, the houses
decrepit (at least some of them). People generally seem to mind their own
business. I would’ve expected more people about but then again, I don’t know
what day it is nor the time.
 
I blink when there are suddenly eyes on my eye level. It seems that while I was
not really paying attention we met a family Godric knows. I almost miss him
greeting and introducing them to me as “Mr. and Mrs. Dumbledore and their
daughters.” the younger of which is staring at me. Summoning up a smile (I
hope I managed one in my surprise but I am unsure), I politely introduce myself
to the family in front of us. Mr. and Mrs. Dumbledore who appears to be
pregnant, correction, is pregnant – Godric is congratulating them right now,
start asking him questions about the school. Meanwhile, the two girls, Mildred
and Beatha who are nine and “four, not three!” years respectively, introduce
themselves to me. While the adults are discussing  the merits of a school
versus home-schooling, the girls want to know my  favourite game. I am stumped.
It is weird enough to so clearly disassociate myself from the adults – I’m
23 for heaven’s sake – and pretend that the girls are around my age – not
that I know my apparent age beyond “a child” – but my favourite game? My
favourite game would probably be a computer game... Not an answer I can use.
What was my favourite game when I was their age? No idea. In the end I go with
“hide and seek” because it is the easiest answer. Beatha proudly tells me
that her favourite game is quiffling (what that’s supposed to be I have no
idea) and Mildred proclaims herself the more mature one (not in those exact
words but that’s the drift) since her favourite game is chess (or its
predecessor). I ignore the following squabbling over which game is better and
listen to Godric’s conversation – it is way more interesting: Apparently
just last week, Salazar turned Rowena’s hair blue by accident. I don’t think
Godric believes it to have been an accident given how he says it. And if half
the stuff is true about Slytherin and potions, I highly doubt he’d miss a
spoiled potion.
 
Mrs. Dumbledore laughs politely and then after a couple of general questions
about the school – do you think you have enough people to teach the children?
Yes; How many children are there to be taught? He is unsure; What do they intend
to teach the children? The basics first and then they’ll see... and one
question about a cauldron (if he could recommend one) as we are in a shop that
solely sells cauldrons, she asks after me to my surprise. I’m just one of his
future students, what’s so interesting about me? Apart from the whole
back-in-the-past, inside-another-body, de-aged? Thing – but she doesn’t know
about all that. She wants to know if I’ll attend Hogwarts to which he answers
with a firm yes and a look that sort-of-says: “isn’t that obvious?”. 
 
Then she asks if he adopted me. Huh. I gather it’s not normal for him too---
Beatha pokes me and demands my opinion but before I can give it she already
agrees with me that quiffling is obviously the better game, err, right. If she
says so. It’s not as if I said anything about either game but what does it
matter. Don’t argue with small children. They always win (at least in their
heads). Then she hugs me.
 
Godric denies adopting me (good to know) and tells them that he’s taking me
shopping and that my late parents were Muggles. I feel Beatha stiffen
momentarily and see the brief flicker of something in Mildred’s eyes. Mr.
Dumbledore offers me condolences, blimey, but they do not sound sincere to me.
Then again, I could be biased by the girls’ reaction. Immediately after that,
Mrs. Dumbledore reminds her husband about some dinner plans they have and that
they have to get going. Herding their children along, they leave the shop. It
seems a bit like fleeing to me. Godric only hums to himself that they’re nice
people. He seems to have completely missed any subtext. Such a Gryffindor. But
hey, he founded that house so I guess he’s allowed.
 
After buying me a cauldron and another for “school uses” he walks out of the
store only to stop abruptly right outside and turning back to me, making me
almost run into him. Not appreciated. Give some warning next time please. His
smile is kind of scary as he grins at me.
 
“I almost forgot. If you want, you’re allowed to buy a pet and bring it. Do
you want to buy one? Every child needs a pet.” Well, it’s not as if I’d
say no to that. At the very least I’d have someone to talk to then –
depressing thought that – but I watched enough sci-fi to know that it’s
probably not the best idea to tell everyone I’m from the future. Heck, if I
talked about computers they’d probably send me to bedlam, or wherever they
send crazy people. Not a pleasant thought given how they treated such people in
the past (future?). God, the time thing is confusing. But even without that,
given the Dumbledores’ reaction, I’m not sure how a muggle-born student will
be received. Screw them, I know spells that haven’t been invented yet. (If
they actually work for me and I won’t mess up with the wand work… Depressing
thought. Let’s ignore that.) I’m getting a pet! It’s been way too long
since the last one I had, but my parents wouldn’t let me have another one when
it was unsure where I’d end up after school. Well. That argument was over five
years ago. So, it’s been way too long. There’s no way I’m turning that
offer down, besides, magical pets are cool.
 
Godric takes me to a pet shop and gives me free reign to find a suitable pet.
The only stipulation is “Not a dragon. They're evil when woken up.” I smell
a story behind that. He sounds as if he speaks from experience which could
explain the Hogwarts school motto. I want to hear that story one day. Right now
I only nod and look over the animals. There are cats, kneazles, a weird puppy
(what breed is that thing?), a couple of mice, toads, snakes, bats, birds (owls,
eagles, a raven, a hawk, a couple of sparrows I think and one that reminds me of
a parrot.), rabbits, a wolf pup, some magical animals that look like a mix of a
fox and a boar but at the size of a house rat, puffskeins, snails... I wander
the shop for a bit and survey the pets. In the end I am undecided if I should
get a snake or the wolf pup. Godric sees that I am wavering and tells me to
“take the pup. There are enough snakes at Hogwarts as it is.” A wolf pup it
is then.
 
He pays for the pup (1 Knut) and the owner is glad to see it go since it bites
– something he tells us after Godric already paid for it. The way the man
speaks about it I am not too surprised he's been bitten. I walk back to the
wolf's cage and open it. (I refuse to keep an animal in a cage that small.) The
wolf growls at me but like a cat it gets curious when I make no move to take it
out and wait for it to come to me instead. It sniffs at me and just when I try
to reach for it, the shopkeeper stuns it. Easier to transport that way, he says.
Glaring at him I gather the wolf in my arms – no, Godric, the pup is not too
heavy – and carry him outside.
 
Godric deems that we have bought all that we need and that we'll go to Hogwarts
now. He grabs my arm and everything goes black.
 
[1]    Genji monogatari: a japanese novel by Murasaki Shikibu written around
that time.



                           Kapitel 3: Chapter Three
                           ------------------------


Ouch. Apparition sucks. It feels as if someone scrambled my brain. I feel sick.
I blink the stars away and try to focus on what is right in front of me –
Hogwarts' front gates.
„Follow me.“
He brings me to the Great Hall. It is a lot smaller than it must be in Harry's
time but I guess, since it is Hogwarts that the Great Hall will grow with the
amount of students attending Hogwarts. The two staircases I've seen so far
aren't moving either. It is still obvious that Hogwarts is magical. The floating
candles and the thrum of magic in the air, the moving portrait above the
mantelpiece...
 
It is both more and less than I expected. Less, because I only know the Hogwarts
of Harry's time and this time's Hogwarts is still a bit plain in comparison –
it is younger after all. And it is more because... no imagination could ever
compare to actually being here. It is... amazing. Scary. Exhilarating. I shiver.
Being here is overwhelming. I feel the need to squeal (not something I normally
do) and at the same time I want to hide because this, being here, drives home
how much I don't really belong here. Standing in that hall, looking around,
seeing how different, how alien it looks to what I know... It cruelly reminds me
that this is not my time. It is not even a time I know much about. 
 
I probably know more about the Japan of this time than England. Sure, we had
history lessons at school but those about medieval Europe were long ago... I'm
sure there'll be lots of details that will trip me off – like the fact that
there are only two large tables instead of the four house tables that I knew
about or that the ceiling is friggin normal.
 
Godric nudges me forward. “Come. You must be hungry.” I nod. I am not really
hungry – I am far too excited – but since I have no idea when the last time
was that I (this body) have eaten something and also no idea how meals are
regulated here... I grab the chance to eat something so that I won't be hungry
later if I didn't eat anything.
 
“Rinka!”
A house elf pops up and bows to us. To my surprise the she-elf is wearing some
sort of uniform with the Hogwarts crest.
“How cans Rinka help Master Godric?”
“We are hungry if you would be so kind to prepare a meal for us.”
I stare at him, I hadn't really expected him to be so polite to a house-elf.
 
The elf pops away again and Godric explains. “That was one of Hogwarts' house
elves. The school elves work here as servants, but that does not mean that you
can push them around. Believe me. You better be nice to them or Helga will skin
you alive.”

Well, that explains that. Considering that, as far as I know, all the Hogwarts
elves of this time are elves that Helga rescued from abusive owners, it makes a
lot of sense. Not that I would have treated them badly anyway, I know Dobby
after all.
 
“Oh, right, you don't know Helga. Helga Hufflepuff is one of us four that
founded the school.”
I nod. “What is she like?” How different is she from what knowledge about
her survived?
He starts to answer but then Rinka returns and he just tells me to eat.
 
The broth does not seem very... It looks a bit disgusting. Okay, it looks really
disgusting. I force myself to try it. It is delicious. After a couple of
spoonfuls I realize how starved I am. I wonder. Is that because I, she?, has not
eaten in some time or is it because of the magical exhaustion?
 
Godric laughs at my renewed enthusiasm. I ignore him in favour of the food.
While we eat a motherly woman enters the hall and approaches us.
“Godric.”
“Helga.”
“You brought someone here early?” The question is not an accusation, it is
lined in friendly curiosity.
“Helga, this is Honoria. Honoria, this is Lady Helga Hufflepuff.”
 
Err... Technically, I knew she was a lady (isn't Gryffindor a lord as well?) but
now that I am introduced to her... I don't know anything about the proper
etiquette. In the end I shyly bow to her – well, as well as one can bow while
sitting down. “Milady.”
 
She laughs – she has a friendly laugh – and tells me to call her Helga until
school starts. Then I will have to call her Professor Hufflepuff like the rest
of her students.
 
Helga smiles at me and asks me how I find Hogwarts so far.
I smile and to my mortification gush a bit about how overwhelming and amazing it
is to be here and to have magic. They both chuckle.
“Why are you here early, Godric?”
He frowns. “I found her in Lundenburh. There was a.... accident. Her parents
were Muggles and they didn't survive.”
I try to look sufficiently sad [devastated] but it is difficult. I did not know
these parents of mine. And I don't really miss mine (yet). I lived alone so I
don't see them that often. I miss my friends more at the moment. Some of them
would probably kill to be here with me or in my stead.
 
Helga apologizes profusely and I tell her that it is alright. Godric tells her
that it has not quite hit me yet and that too much has happened to me today to
realize that my parents are gone, probably. I don't correct him, how could I.
Helga almost hugs me to death and glares at Godric over my head – at least
judging from how he pales.
 
She then asks if he took me shopping, demands my things from him when he tells
her he did and ushers me away.
“You can sleep in my rooms until the others arrive.”
I guess it's better to just agree with her.
 
She conjures a mattress and a trunk for me and tells me to put our purchases in
the trunk. Not my wand, though, I am to keep that on me at all times.
 
After I have put my things away she asks me if I am tired or if I want a tour of
the grounds. I am a bit tired but there's no way I'd say no to a tour, so I tell
her I'm not.
 
She smiles and promises to show me around.
 
Her quarters are on the second floor and so she shows me that floor first. There
is not much to see but she points out the classroom where she will teach Charms.
On the third floor are the rooms where we'll be taught Duelling (Godric) in
those lessons where we aren't taught outside, and Transfiguration (also Godric).
 
On the fourth floor there are several rooms for her Etiquette lessons (hopefully
I won't be totally lost then) and dancing. Yikes. That's definitely not my cup
of tea. Astronomy (Rowena) will be taught in one of the towers.
 
The rooms where us students will be hosted are on the first floor. She tells me
that while we will be separated in different classes by our abilities – there
will be four levels – and we will be under the tutelage of the four founders,
there are two dorm rooms, one for the girls and one for the boys. She does not
elaborate about how we'll be assigned to the founders. (Does the Sorting Hat
exist already or will they choose the students for themselves?)
 
In the dungeons are the rooms for Potions (Rowena) and both Latin and Rune Magic
(Salazar). I'm quite looking forward to that class, runes are interesting. Also
in the dungeons are the kitchen which are not solely run by house elves in this
time. She introduces me to the Head Cook, one Æthelred the Ferocious.
Apparently our cook used to be an adventurer when she was young, before she
decided to dedicate herself to her second passion – cooking. I have no idea
how that even works, adventuring and cooking. It doesn't help that when she told
me “I used to be an adventurer” I wanted to ask her if she took an arrow to
the knee. She does look appropriately scary though, as if she would chop me up
as soon as she would chop vegetables. I am quite glad when Helga leads me away
again.
 
She tells me about the library belonging to Rowena who offered to let the
students use them. She deliberately doesn't show me where it is because she will
not let me anywhere near there before Rowena can tell me the rules as Rowena
would kill her (and me) if anything happened to her sacred books and scrolls. I
am disappointed by that. I am handicapped enough as it is, having prior access
to a library could have really helped. I sigh and grumble that I quite like to
read. Helga hears me and it makes her blink at me in surprise. “You can
read?” She asks, disbelieving. I nod hesitatingly. “There are many wizards
that can't. And I thought there were even more amongst Muggles.” I shrug. What
can I say? Clearly, I messed up a bit. I should've thought of that but I can't
take it back. I need to think of a plausible reason then. Luckily she doesn't
ask. She only hums to herself and then smiles at me and tells me that she will
introduce me to Rowena once she returns.
 
She takes me outside to show me where we may learn Herbology as part of the
Potions lessons but that isn't decided yet. In the beginning we will probably
venture into the forest, she says. She shows me the lake where we take a break
as my arms begin to hurt from carrying my wolf pup around. It wasn't exactly
heavy but carrying it for that long was tiring nonetheless. She tells me that
apart from the founders and the head cook there will be a nurse and a ground
keeper that will return a day before the rest of the students arrive.
 
The lake is soothing even though she tells me not to enter it. Apart from the
fact that I can't swim (I can swim thank you very much but I refrain from
correcting her) the native people may not like an intruder. They have a truce
for now but it is still shaky. We sit there for a while while she tells me about
her lesson plans. She mentions charms I have never heard about and some I would
have expected remain unmentioned. How many of the spells I remember exist at
this time? She will teach us some household charms as well. Thank the gods. I
hate tidying.
 
I yelp in pain. While I was listening to her explaining some spell that must be
a precursor of the evanesco, my wolf pup has woken up. The shopkeeper was right,
it likes to bite. Unsure about how to proceed I let it nibble on my hand – the
bite hasn't broken skin yet – and use my other hand to pet it. It does not
seem to have expected that. It freezes. A few seconds later it slowly lets go of
my hand. It looks at me sceptically but lets itself be pet. (I really need to
check if it's male or female, the it thing is getting to me.) Carefully I pull
my poor hand out of its reach all the while petting it with the other one.
 
Helga who looked worried when she saw that it had bitten me, relaxes again and
smiles. She continues to talk about her classes. She points towards the stables
where we will learn to ride as part of our etiquette lessons. I wince. It has
been years since I've ridden a horse. The last time was in seventh grade –
ages ago. And I wasn't that much of a fan... We'll see how that turns out.
 
I continue petting the cub. There's also a flock of chickens, and a couple of
farm animals around but  Helga doesn't go into details there.
 
Maybe twenty minutes later we continue on. The wolf dislikes being carried now
that he's awake and is wiggling around, but I have enough training from holding
my neighbour's cat to know how to carefully hold a wiggling pet and keep it from
jumping down. And after a few moments it realizes that I'm not about to drop it
and settles down. She shows me to the stables – there are fifteen horses there
at the moment. Or rather fifteen Abraxans. They are beautiful. A few of them are
shy, most don't care that we are there but one of them, no more than a foal, is
absolutely fascinated by my wolf. It is sniffing it and nosing it and doesn't
seem bothered by the fact that my wolf is growling. I step away – I don't want
to risk my wolf biting the Abraxan.
 
Helga then half-tells-half-asks me if I am tired which by now I am. I feel like
an old woman. Moving... doesn't exactly hurt but I can feel the exhaustion. We
return to the kitchens where she asks for a small evening snack and some meat
and water for my wolf to be brought to here quarters where we then return to.
 
After we eat, she tells me to sleep. I would love to go to sleep, but I can feel
nature's call by now and I have no idea how this is handled here. She pointed
some bathing rooms out to me earlier when she showed me the dorms, but their
version of a toilet... I don't even really know what to ask for. After talking
around the problem for quite a bit before she understands what I mean, she shows
me to the toilet down the hall. It is rudimentary but the bowels are charmed to
vanish the waste, so that's a plus.
 
Afterwards I return to her quarters and – cautiously cuddling the wolf cub –
I fall asleep.
 
x_X_x
 
What a strange dream. I wake up slowly and still half asleep I wonder about my
imagination. The last time I dreamt myself into a fandom was when I was twelve
and it was The Tribe. I like Harry Potter, sure, but why the hell would I dream
myself into the Founder's time? I shake my head at myself and stiffen when
something tickles my nose. I sneeze. What the... I open my eyes and the only
thing I see is my cub's coat. What. Holy Hannah, that wasn't a dream?! Okay,
calm down. So... either I am still dreaming – which I doubt, I remember my
headache from yesterday – but I pinch myself nonetheless. Still not-dreaming
then. Okay. I can... I will work with that. I stroke its fur absently while I
ponder what to do.
 
“Oh, you're awake.”
I flinch. I'd forgotten Helga.
“Barely.”
“Come and drink a cup of tea with me, it will wake you up.”
So I get up, gather my wolf – I really need to find out about its gender so
that I can give him or her a name – and join her.
 
The tea – if it can be called tea, I highly doubt it – tastes horrible, but
it does help with waking up. Helga does not eat breakfast herself but she tells
me that I can go to the kitchens to grab an apple or something if I want. She
thinks it's a good exercise for me – to see if I can find my way around
school.
 
And that is basically how my first or rather second day at the school goes.
Helga sends me from one end of Hogwarts to the next to see if I get lost. She
tells me to call for an house elf if I do. Luckily I don't. Well, there are a
couple of times where I take quite the detour but I somehow manage to find my
way. (Even if I'm not always how I got to where I was supposed to go.) It also
gets me used to carrying the wolf around - at least until I try to let it walk
itself. It mostly keeps to my side but it is also responsible for the biggest
detour yet. After the fourth or fifth trip I start to make some deliberate side
trips to further explore the castle. After the seventh Helga catches wind of it
and tells me to go ahead and explore on my own but she also tells Rinka to
accompany me – follow me, not guide me, but to accompany me in case something
happens.
 
Hogwarts – while smaller than I imagined it from the books – is quite big
and there are several hidden corners. Sadly I could find none of the secret
passages from the marauders map. They don't seem to exist yet. I do however find
a secret room by accident. I feel as if I am inside a bad movie. I literally
tripped and tried to catch myself at a torch thingy – only to open a secret
door. Rinka promises not to tell anyone about it. I didn't ask for it, but she
says something along the lines of finders keepers and tells me she'll only tell
someone if I'm in danger or missing or something along those lines. Neat. At the
same time that also means that if someone else manages to find this room, my
privilege is lost.
In the afternoon I help Æthelred in the kitchen – I may not be able to use
magic yet, but I tell her that I helped my mother and after quite some grumbling
she tells me to chop some onions. My eyes burn but at least I don't feel
completely useless. And as much fun as exploring the castle was I felt... weird
not doing anything. Besides, apart from the eye thing it's actually relaxing. It
reminds me of the afternoons spent cooking with some friends – somehow I
almost always ended up being the one to cut the onions. I don't feel as
out-of-place here.
 
Æthelred is a woman of few words so we work mostly in silence. She does tell me
however that she is preparing food for the welcoming feast in the couple of
days. She'll prepare some things that keep and put preservation spells on them.
Judging by her voice she isn't exactly happy about it but sees the need.
 
 I see Godric again when he drops by to get something to eat and he asks after
my day. He looks at me strangely when I tell him that I went exploring Hogwarts
but I cannot quite interpret his expression. He asks after my wolf cub and if
she has a name yet – well, that answers that question. I tell him she's been
behaving (mostly) and that I plan to wait to name her because I want to ask Lady
Ravenclaw if I could look through her scrolls for a suitable name. To do it
Hedwig-style, you know. Well, I don't actually say that last bit but I think it.
Also, I want to avoid a name that doesn't exist yet.
Like Helga he looks at me strangely (again) at the implication that I can read
but unlike her he does not look surprised (much). His expression is more like as
if he didn't exactly expect it but it proves his point – what point that would
be I don't know. He does look validated though.
 
He promises to talk to Rowena about it once she returns.
 
Æthelred then shoos him away and tells me to go with him. Apparently her
kitchen is a work room not a audience chamber, basically she wants us to go talk
somewhere else. Godric drops me off at Helga's quarters and tells me to go to
sleep. When I point out that it's still somewhat early he only replies: “Go to
sleep early then, while you still can. Get as much sleep as you can grab before
school starts.”
 
I nod and inwardly roll my eyes. How much sleep does he want me to get? Judging
by the light outside the windows, it is maybe six o'clock in the evening. Helga
told me that I can sleep in those nights before the rest of the students arrive
if I want. If I go to bed now, I'll be awake before midnight, okay, maybe not
before midnight but at one or two at the latest. I don't sleep that much. I've
functioned on less than two or three hours of sleep at night. (I blame my
guildies for that. MMORPGs don't really keep you awake that long, it's the
people on your teamspeak. But I can't explain that to either of.) I don't
necessarily need more than five hours at night. Sure it's nice to sleep for
seven or eight, but I don't need them. And even with that much sleep, it'd only
be two in the morn. I grumble to myself. I don't even have anything to read.
In the end I ask Godric if he could transfigure a hair brush for me. That is not
a reason to look at me like that, seriously! Why is everyone looking at me
strangely today? I tell him that I want to brush the wolf's fur at least once
and that while I don't think she's injured in anyway, I want to make sure and I
can't with how shaggy her coat is. He looks dubious but transfigures an apple
into a rudimentary hair brush. Well, it's better than nothing, I guess.
 
The wolf is not happy about it. She really is not. She gets quite a few
scratches in before I manage to settle her down and she realizes that getting
combed is not that bad. I am as careful as I can be. In the beginning there are
a few instances where she growls at me but at the end of it her tongue is
lolling, so I guess she's enjoying it.
 
I still go to bed early and I do spend most of the night stargazing. I have to
admit it's amazing. The sky over my city back home can't compete in the least.
The city is far too radiant even in the night but here, where there's only the
castle for miles on end (at least I think so. Has Hogsmeade been founded yet?)
it's beautiful. Not even a tenth of the stars I can see I could see back home.
 
As soon as it's getting light I sneak out of Helga's quarters and make my way to
the kitchen for some breakfast. I never used to be a breakfast person but after
already being awake for that long... I'm hungry. I am greeted by a house elf
that introduces himself as Bipp. Bipp ushers me in and brings me some broth and
a bun. He only smiles when I thank him which I definitely prefer to wailing like
Dobby but he gets super exited when I ask him if he could keep me some company
and   tell me something about himself, the castle, magic. It's almost as if he
has a sugar rush. And to that, the worst one I've ever seen.
 
Bipp is twelve years past his maturity. He has a wife – Pannia – and out of
his chores he likes cooking the most. Sadly, he looks quite ashamed saying that.
He likes working at Hogwarts though. He gushes about how nice the people here
are. He tells me about his daily routine: helping in the kitchens in the
morning, general cleaning during the day in whatever area needs cleaning at the
moment, sometimes helping out in the stables, a job the students will have to do
later on. There are too few house elves to care for about sixty to seventy
people without any help. The students will be relegated to do some work. To my
horror he apologizes for that. I assure him that I don't mind. When he has to
return to work I tag along (house elf apparition is still weird but more
comfortable than the wizarding version) and help him as much as I can. He
doesn't like it at first but I tell him that it alleviates the boredom. I scare
myself. I hate tidying. Why am I volunteering now?
 
 



                            Kapitel 4: Chapter Four
                            -----------------------


Later that day Godric sends Rinka to tell me that Rowena is here and summons me
to the great hall.
Rowena Ravenclaw a pale beauty with long black hair and a severe face - not that
she is not friendly but she looks strict, like she is a no-nonsense kind of
person.  

After a short introduction by Godric I get a very throughout lecture about what
to do and what not to do in the library, how to treat her scrolls etc. etc. The
lecture feels as if it takes hours but it's probably only half an hour long.
Sigh. At least I get permission to accompany her to the library – she wants to
keep an eye on me and she needs to research something anyway.

On the way to the library she first asks me how I like Hogwarts so far. She
barely lets me answer before she curiously asks me how it came to be that I can
read.

I am stumped. What to tell her? I know that she won’t be as easily distracted
as Helga and Godric. I can’t not tell her anything but what to tell her? Where
could I have learned it? From a wandering priest? Possibly, but that’s
probably not the best idea. I don’t know the exact stance of Christianity
towards magic at this time (whenever this time is exactly)… But judging from
the whole burning-witches-at-the-stake thing… I’d rather not bring religion
into this. But what else? Who could even read around their time? Physicians?
Certain People at court? Maybe, but what use is that to me? I don’t know my
own background here. I don’t know if this girl whose body I’m inhabiting had
a life before hand or if this body was created when something pulled me here?
And considering I don’t even know how I got here… Gods.

“I’ve learned it… somewhere?” I wince. I didn’t mean to say that.
Rowena is not impressed. Which I can understand but… How to save this mess?
“I mean… I must have… right?” I aim for confusion. I don’t know if I
pulled it off. I… I don’t… Damn, it’s not as if I arrived five minutes
ago. I had enough time to think of a credible cover story and I completely
forgot. I have a nasty habit of procrastinating but hell… I shrug slightly.
Rowena has completely stopped walking by now and is staring at me.

I have no idea what to tell her. I can’t tell her that I learned it at school,
muggles don’t really have schools yet, at least none that are accessible to
everyone. I could twist the truth and tell her that I knew a teacher – maybe a
former one lived in my village… And in which village did I live then? Crap.
I…. I’ve taken way too long with an answer now. I wanted to keep my head
down, not draw their attention and the suspicion that there’s something fishy
about me. I hate fish. …. Not the point. Concentrate! What to tell her… what
to…

“You really don’t remember?”
I… Wha-? Well, that would be a possibly plausible explanation. Given what
happened when I first arrived… Maybe I’ll be able to get away with feigning
amnesia?
I nod uncertainly.
“Hm. Well, what do you remember, then?”
Eh. Of course it’s not that easy. This is Rowena Ravenclaw after all. I
suppress a sigh. Oh, amnesia it is.
“I… I’m not sure. I had a pet rabbit at one time… I think. She was
black… or white… or white and black?”
She stares at me. I feel as if I’m being judged. She looks me up and down,
contemplates for a bit and then motions for me to continue walking. For a few
moments we walk in silence.

“Let’s ignore what you remember or not remember – “Wow, the tact of this
woman, I don’t know if I should be awed or appalled – “let’s concentrate
on what you know.”
Now I’m scared.
“Where are we?”
“Hogwarts? A school in… I don’t know where? Mr. Gryffindor didn’t tell
me when he grabbed me. Before that I was in Lundenburh.”
“Hm. Three plus seven?”
“Ten.”
“Two multiplied by two?”
“Four.”
“Belladonna?”
“Poison.”
“The muggle king?”
I blink. I have no idea. Even if I knew when we are, I wouldn’t know. That’s
the kind of stuff I’m hoping to find some information about in the library.
“Hm.” She is quiet for a while.

We reach a nondescript door on the third floor.
She grips the door handle but doesn’t open the door yet.
“This is my library.” She warns me. “Do you remember the rules?”
Of course I do. They’re pretty much the same rules as in every library I’ve
ever been to. With the addition of a few others maybe. I nod and repeat them to
her.

She scrutinizes me and then calls for a house elf to watch my wolf – no pets
inside the library. The house elf – Rinka – takes the wolf from me and pops
away. Rowena nods and opens the door.
I follow her inside and stop.

This smell. The smell of dusty, old books (and scrolls). I love this room
already and I haven’t even seen anything yet.
I look around. The library is big, the room is full of rows and rows of shelves.
I breathe in deeply. The light is pretty dim but Rowena forbids the use of
candles. She conjures two balls of magical light for our use – the balls are
charmed to follow us. I will only need to tap it with my wand when I leave the
library for it to disappear. It is a spell she promises me we will learn soon.

For a couple of minutes I just walk through the aisles and take a look at
what’s there. Like the great hall, the library is smaller than I expected –
big, but smaller than expected. I guess that it will also expand as the need
arises. Still, there are quite a few aisles. The shelves are filled with more
scrolls than books but that is to be expected. Rowena notices my fascination and
tells me that she was planning on copying part of them – some are quite old
and won’t survive much longer even with preservation spells. Those only go so
far after all. (Really? I always thought they were semi-permanent or at least
renewable.)

From what short glimpses I get passing by there are texts to almost every topic.
Or at least it seems that way.
After a while I decide to start with a general text about the nature of magic.
The text is a suitable piece to begin with for a muggle born who’s been
introduced to magic two days ago. Starting with a text about recent history or
something the like would probably be suspicious.

Not five minutes later I put that text back in frustration. There’s nothing I
don’t know in there and it barely covers the basics. After a short search I
find a second text covering the same topic. That second text is… better. It
touches on the different types of magic and how to differentiate them. (While I
don’t agree with the part that’s very black-and-white about muggle versus
wizard, it is a nice introduction.) I put that text back as well. That is one of
Rowena’s rules actually. ‘Only ever take one text at a time. Put it back
then take the next, not beforehand.’

I look around a bit and settle for one on magical history. Meh. It’s very
interesting – and absolutely no use to me at the moment. I merely skim over it
then take it back. I’m not a witch… okay, no, that sounds wrong even inside
my own head. Not that I’m not a witch. I didn’t grow up as one. I don’t
need to know about the wizarding background. Well, I do, but I need the muggle
one first.

I can’t find a text that matches what I’m looking for so I ask Rowena how
her library is organized. She explains – apparently there is a system – but
it is so complex that she loses me two sentences into her explanation. I need to
find a spell for searching the library. A couple of history texts later I at
least manage my second goal. I have found a possible name for my wolf cub. I
will have to think about it a bit more. On the one hand I’d like a historical
name, on the other there’s the option of the first name that came to my mind
when Godric indirectly told me she was female. (Acca) Larentia or Morgana?
I’ll try to check later which one she prefers.

I’m no closer to finding out when I am though. I could ask Rowena but
something makes me hesitate. Maybe I’m over thinking things but. Time didn’t
have the same meaning in the past, I know that much. So, if I didn’t care
about the date before, why would I suddenly care now? If I did care before, why
don’t I know? There’s still the amnesia lie, but I want to use that as
little as possible. Hm.

In the end I settle for randomly asking for the date. I feign absentmindedness
and hint at Godric telling me about when school would start without saying a
concrete date.

She tells me that the rest of the students will arrive on September the first (I
already guessed that) and that today’s August 31 992[1] (which means they’ll
arrive tomorrow… uh oh.). And… wow. I won’t be born for a full millennia
– apart from a few months but what do they matter in comparison to a thousand
years?! That’s kind of creepy if I think about it.
 
I keep to mostly innocent texts for now – an essay about the difference
between jinxes and curses, an introduction to potions, a discussion
transfiguration versus conjuring. I pretend to familiarize myself with the terms
and corresponding magic field. After a while Rowena deems me responsible enough
to be left alone and leaves me with a stern warning to brew a couple of healing
potions the healer asked her for as a pre-emptive measure.
 
Once she is gone I take a look around to find more interesting texts. Sadly
there is next to nothing about muggles. There’s something about ancient Rome
(in one of those I found Acca Larentia) and ancient Greece but nothing that
tells me anything about the political, social, cultural, historical situation
right now. There is nothing, at least nothing I can find. 
 
I finally find a book that holds some promise “A self-updating book of
monarchies” but it is too high up the shelves and my current body is too small
to reach it. With Rowena gone there is no one to ask for help either.
I spent a few moments staring at the book and wondering how the hell I’m going
to get it down without climbing the shelves – they don’t seem that stable,
never mind the fact that Rowena would skin me – until I remember the troll
incident in Harry’s first year and that I’m a witch now.

I grab my wand and try to remember the exact movement of a Wingardium Leviosa
spell (swish and flick). I must have muttered the spell because next thing I
know, that book is floating.

I nearly drop it as I drop the spell in surprise but I manage to catch it. An
Accio would probably have been easier… No matter. From the book I learn that
England and Scotland have two different kings but nothing more. It only shows
the names, birth, start (and end) of reign and death dates of the monarchs of
several European kingdoms. Nice but ultimately useless. I concentrate and try to
levitate the book back to where I got it from. It takes me a few tries (twice I
have to catch it manually again, luckily the fall isn’t that high) but finally
I manage. I probably shouldn’t have practiced on something that could break. I
wince when I think about how Rowena would’ve reacted if she’d witnessed
that. Thankfully she didn’t, I quite like my head where it is.
 
Now that I think about it... I did a spell, charm, whatever. An actual spell! I
used my wand for the first time and it is … there are no words to describe it.
Awesome. Terrific. Amazing. Scary. Incredible. Emporing. Humbling. Magical.
And it was Wingardium Leviosa. The spell that started it all. That was –
indirectly – the reason for the Golden Trio's friendship. This is... well, not
history exactly. But as a fan, actually managing that spell feels like
witnessing something beautiful.
 
The next text I chose to read, The properties of magic, is a load of (excuse me)
bullshit, seriously. Was that piece of crap written by a muggle? The beginning
was all right, yes, but after that? It is impossible for the caster to control
of a spell. The will of the caster is inherent in the spell. Ever heard of
fiendfyre? A spell, once cast, cannot be broken. Are you sure? Imperius anyone?
Dark magic is stolen magic. Now I don’t know that much about dark magic… But
how do you steal magic? And from what exactly in this case? Magic is a tool we
wield. Well, maybe, but it is more than just that. Why in the world does Rowena
even own that treatise? I shake my head in disbelief and return it to its
place.
 
The next book Issues of Blood is no better. It pretty much advertises incest as
the only way to preserve the bloodline. Well, you’re wrong. It damages it. You
need a diverse gene pool to flourish but that doesn’t seem to be known yet.
That text, too, speaks of stolen magic. Again, no. Just no. Muggle born witches
and wizards did not kill a magical person and absorb their magic – they are
descended from a line of squibs. The text makes me shudder and want to write an
essay on the dangers of inbreeding. It’s not pretty. Believe me, I know.
I’ve seen it. A friend of my parents had a bunch of rabbits and well… the
male one managed to escape his cage a couple of time (jumped above it, burrowed
under it when he was kept outside next to the cage with the females) and he even
figured out how to open his indoor cage when they learned from their mistake and
separated him completely… The third generation all had problems with their
nervous system and died within a year. And now this text wants to tell me that
introducing new blood poisons the blood line? I gag and hastily put that book
away as well.

Enough for now. I love books, I love to read and I love this library already
after such a short time but I need a break after that. I know, I should’ve
expected it but… knowing about it and actually seeing it… There’s a
difference.
I tap the ball of magic light and leave the library. And I close the door. I
would’ve done anyway but Rowena mentioned that order like three times in her
earlier lecture. Now I feel the need to point it out even to myself which is
slightly ridiculous. Once outside I call for Rinka and she returns my pet then
pops away.

I kneel down before the cub and hug her shortly. Petting her I ask for her
opinion on the two naming options. She ignores Larentia but perks up at Morgana,
so Morgana it is.

We make our way towards the kitchens and I ponder what spells I remember. Hm…
“Lumos.” Okay… I must’ve done something wrong there. My wand lit up all
right –and the light’s blue. “Nox.” The light disappears again. At least
that works.

I try it a couple of more times – the light remains a bit wonky. Of course,
being the airhead I sometimes am, I forget to pay attention to my surroundings.
I feel something brushing my leg, look down and see Morgana who I’m about to
kick – not on purpose but she walked right into my path – and try to evade
her.

Shit. Whereas I manage to evade her, I lose my step and tumble down the stairs.
Ow. Luckily, I was already almost to the bottom so it’s not that bad. My knee
hurts pretty badly though and it seems to be bleeding quite a bit. Sigh. This
reminds me of myself in primary school way too much. I lost count how often I
scraped my knee back. I had thought I’d outgrown the habit of falling over my
own feet, apparently I was wrong. Half-heartedly glaring at Morgana I pick
myself up again. Well, nothing’s broken or the like.

I grab her – I don’t want to almost fall over her again – and make my way
towards the hospital wing instead to find some gauze. Just like the Great Hall
and the library, the hospital wing is smaller than I thought as I found out
during my explorations of the castle yesterday. I hope I can find it again. My
sense of direction is pretty good, but I got there from the opposite direction
yesterday.
 
To my surprise the hospital wing is occupied when I arrive. The man is
relatively small and wiry, somewhere around fifty or sixty years old and has
grass green hair. A metamorphmagus maybe? He turns around when he hears me enter
and immediately bustles over at spotting my knee.
“Oh, dearie. Wha’ did you do?”
I shrug. “I tried to not trip over something and tripped over something
else?”
Shaking his head and muttering about children, he ushers me to a stool.
“Sit.” He mutters a couple of spells (too quietly for me to understand),
nods and then grabs a potion vial full of muddy-looking goo and smears the
content all over the wound. Ew.

But it instantly numbs the pain and as he wraps it, he tells me that the wound
will be gone by tomorrow morning.
Now that business is done, he introduces himself as “Gabriel the healer. Until
Lady Hufflepuff hired me, I was a wandering monk. Not one of those Christian
fanatics, mind you. I’m a wizard, not a superstitious crazy person.” Wow.
Someone’s got a bone to pick with religion… I’m so not going there.

“I’m Honoria, a student here from tomorrow onwards.” He then asks me how I
came to be here early and I point him in Godric’s direction.
“Mr. Gryffindor brought me here.” What can I say. It’s the truth. Without
Godric I wouldn’t even have known where to go. He just grins at my answer and
sends me away.
“But be more careful from now on!”
 
x_X_x
 
Godric is laughing at me. He saw me headed to the kitchens and decided to tag
along to keep me company. And of course he noticed my bandaged knee and asked me
what happened. I told him and now he is laughing.
“Good evening.”
Oh, great.
“Good evening, Rowena.” Godric is still sniggering.
“Good evening Lady Ravenclaw.”
She daintily sits down and asks an elf for some tea.
“What amuses you so, Godric?”
He retells what happened, still sniggering. What a child, not that I’m in any
position to complain right now.
She rolls her eyes and pretty much only wants to know that I did not injure
myself while at the library. Her collection is really important to her.
For a while we eat in silence.
 
“Did Salazar return?”
“Yes, but as soon as he arrived, he barricaded himself in. Said something
about one of his experiments.”
“You will bring him some dinner then, after this, and remind him to eat,
won’t you, Godric.”
“Yes, yes.”

So… all four founders are at Hogwarts now. This feels almost anti-climatic. I
don’t know why but with how they’ve been idolized I kind of expected… I
don’t know… something. A change in the atmosphere or some such. I have no
idea why I would think that but I am slightly disappointed.
“And don’t just send an elf, you know he ignores them.”
“Yes, Rowena.” I’m surprised he didn’t say yes, mother:
“Good. Honoria?”
What, me? I blink. “Yes?”
“Would you mind keeping an eye on your fellow students tomorrow? So that they
won’t get lost as much. We asked the elves to keep an eye for the first weeks.
Don’t worry if some of them do get a bit lost, they need to learn to find
their way themselves, after all. Just point them in the correct general
direction.”
I nod. “I can certainly try.”
“That’s all I ask. Now, I’ll leave you. My potions are simmering.” And
with that she disappears only to be replaced by Helga shortly after who sends me
to bed. Again, it is pretty early but for some reason I do feel a bit tired.
 
x_X_x
 
The next morning Helga drags me out of bed to get an early breakfast. Since the
students will arrive later today she tells me to take advantage of being early
and choose a bed for myself in the girl’s dorm. The bed I choose is in a
corner at one end of the dorm. That way one side of the bed as well as the
headpiece is directly facing a wall. That way, if I want my rest, I can ignore
the others more easily. It’s annoying if you want to be left alone and you
will look at other people no matter what you do. You face one side, the people
annoy you, turn around and you will face other people that annoy you. No, thank
you. Not if I get the choice. At the same time the bed has a certain tactical
advantage – I can overlook the whole room and don’t have to show anyone by
back if it came to that which I hope it doesn’t. I deposit my things on and
around the bed and walk back to the library to try to find something to read.
I’ll have to ask a house elf to babysit Morgana again.
 
When I leave the library to grab some lunch I spot the first arrivals through a
window.
 
[1]               Harrypotter.wikia.com tells me that the school
was founded around 990 and the Sorting Hat created ~993. Since I was told by my
two Goddesses that I will be part of the very first class and that the Sorting
Hat will already be the one to sort the students I chose a year in that time
frame.



                            Kapitel 5: Chapter Five
                            -----------------------


I watch them through the window for a while. Most arrive side-along their
parents, one group I think arrives by portkey and two are brought by Godric. I
am called down by Helga (via Rinka) though and so I make my way down to the
entrance hall.
 
“Honoria.” Helga calls me to her. “Meet Cepheus and Eridanus Black.” She
points to the two boys standing to her left. They are clearly related, both have
black hair, grey eyes and similar facial structures.
“Can you take them to the nearest bath room? The elves are busy with the
luggage.”
I nod. It seems as if the younger of the two had gotten sick after side-along
apparating here. I smile at them.
 
“Good day. I am Honoria. Will you follow me?”
The older one looks me over. “Greetings. I am Cepheus Black and this is my
cousin Eridanus.”
“It is nice to meet you.”
The younger one smiles at me shyly before returning his gaze to the ground and
the older one just snorts. “That remains to be seen.” Nice fellow.
I lead them to one of the bathing rooms and wait outside for them. I can hear
them talking – arguing – but they are not loud enough for me to make out the
words.
 
Once they resurface I lead them back. Cepheus asks after my surname and when I
don't answer after my family. I tell him they are dead. It shuts him up for now
but it makes me think. I know that muggles of this time had no real surnames.
But wizards apparently do... Will that pose a problem?
 
Back in the hall, Cepheus drags his cousin away to greet another boy his age. I
take a look around the hall. So far, I can see ten girls and eight boys plus
their respective parents.
 
A small boy wanders the hall and ends up standing next to me.
“This is awesome. A real castle.”
I chuckle. “A magical castle no less.”
“Right, right!” He grins at me.
“I wonder what the lessons will be li---- AAAAH.” The boy is constantly
bouncing on his feet and tips over. I barely manage to grab him before he falls
on his face.
 
“Thanks. This happens to me all the time. Grandfather has almost given up on
me.” He smiles self-depreciatingly.
“Because you're a bit clumsy?”
“Well... yes.”
“Then he is being an idiot.”
He smiles at me adoringly. Creepy. He just reminded me a bit of Neville.
“Thank you.” For what I wonder but he just grins and bounces away again.
 
I kneel down to pet Morgana and wait.
 
At one point Godric sends me to get him a new ink pot from the Great Hall. To my
surprise there is now a third, smaller, table in the hall – presumably for the
adults so that they can keep an eye on the students.
 
When I come back Godric is alone.
“Professor?”
“Hm. Oh, you've returned. Thank you Honoria.”
“What are you writing?”
“Oh? A list of all the students, name and age.”
“I see.” I hesitate.
“What is it?”
“I... I was wondering...”
“Yes? Speak up, child.”
Let's pretend I'm stupid for a bit. I'm not sure if this is necessary but I
guess it can't hurt. “What is a surname?”
“Oh. A surname is a family name.”
“A family name...”
“Yes. Like my name is Godric and my family's name is Gryffindor. My parents
were called Gryffindor as well. Any children I might have, would also be called
that.”
“I see.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I don't.... but the others all seem to have one. Well, at least the
two Blacks and Miss Ollivander.”
“I see.”
“Do I need one? Because the Blacks were greeted as such.”
“No, you do not need one. But if you can choose one if you want.”
“Like what?”
“Hmm... Let's see. McDougall – That clan is so big no one would notice an
addition. White... no. Hm. Lunden – after all we met in Lundenburh. Lupus –
you own a wolf. There are some well known wizarding families but we find quite a
few we didn't know about when we went looking for potential students so you
don't necessarily need an established name.”
 
“I... see.” I contemplate the names he proposed. I don't think joining a
known established clan is such a good idea. White... too similar to Black.
Lupus... reminds me of Lupin.
“Think about it and tell me later.”
He goes to greet the newest arrivals.
 
I disappear for a while to get some quiet to be able to think. It's useful to
have prior knowledge of the castle. I curl up in an empty room on the second
floor.
 
I like the idea of using a name with an association to wolves. I like wolves.
Lupus? Lupa? I don't want to use Lupin. Wolf? Or something with wolf in it...
like Ravenclaw? Wolfborn? No, I am neither Romulus nor Remus, nor am I in
Skyrim... Wolf... Wolfpaw. Okay, no. Something with Fangs? Or... just a
variation of wolf... Wulf? Wulfe?
 
I doubt Stray would be a suitable option. Wolfsheart? Wolfstooth? They all sound
stupid.
Hmm... Randwulf?  A term I came across looking for a name for Morgana but I am
unsure how exactly that translates so,... no. Another idea would be Childe since
they're calling me a child anyway. But since I don't actually know how long I'll
be here and I'd rather not be called 'child' as an adult... It's bad enough now
where I actually have the body of a child.
 
Back to the wolf-names... One that comes to mind is Wulfric, but that's a first
name, not a last name.
 
Before I can come to a decision, Godric calls us all to the great hall. Whatever
variation of a Sonorous that was, my ears are ringing. I make my way down again.
They tell us to sit down somewhere. I end up next to a small girl and Eridanus
Black.
 
“Welcome to Hogwarts.” Godric bows with a flourish. “Welcome to a school
of learning. I hope you enjoy your time here and acquire knowledge. Let me
introduce my fellows here at the head table. Lady Rowena Ravenclaw who will
teach Astronomy and Potions.” She bows. “Lady Helga Hufflepuff who will
teach Charms and Etiquette.” She bows as well. “Lord Salazar Slytherin who
will teach you Latin – after he taught you how to read and write – and Rune
magic.” Salazar can't be bothered to do more than raise his goblet. I always
thought he was the same age as the other founders but his hair and beard are
grey. I kind of expected them to be black. I’m too far away from the head
table to see his face close up – maybe his hair’s just naturally grey. It is
hard to say how big he is when he is sitting down but from what I can see he is
relatively thin. And he looks perfectly annoyed.
 
“I, Godric Gryffindor, will teach you Transfiguration and Duelling. Apart from
us teachers, we have Æthelred the Ferocious, our Head Cook; Gabriel Brooke, our
Healer and Agamemnon Dale, our grounds keeper.” The cook merely glares,
Gabriel waves happily and Dale bows. 
 
“Now, as you may note, there are two dorms. One for the girls and one for the
boys. In each dorm there are rooms of five – you can choose your rooms and
roommates yourself. Since your ages range from nine to fourteen mostly, you may
want to assign rooms after this. Nonetheless, I ask the older students to keep
an eye on the younger ones.
 
“Lessons will be divided not by gender or age but by knowledge and ability. We
we'll start with dividing you roughly by age. There will be four levels. Your
level may change. We expect that quite a few of you will move to a higher or
lower level. That is not because you are more intelligent or more stupid than
others, this is merely the first year we will teach and we do not know how much
fore-knowledge you have and in which subjects.
 
“If you have been taught potions for example, you may excel there while
lagging behind in Charms because others may have been taught that and in turn,
they will lag behind in potions. Some of you were taught at home, others were
still too young for any kind of formal schooling. We ask that you help each
other. Balance out in which subjects you are bad and others are better, which
subjects you are good at and others are worse.
 
“Furthermore, you will be sorted into houses. Those are permanent. The four
houses will be Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor as the four of us
will be your head of houses. While you are of course welcome to ask any of us
any questions, and we ask you help all of your class mates, these houses will be
like your family. If you are sorted into Ravenclaw, go to Rowena first, if it is
not a problem that pertains a specific lesson by another teacher. If you're in
Gryffindor come to me for advice.
 
“In between lessons, your housework and your chores you will be free to
explore. But note, that there will be a curfew in place and both the forest and
the lake are off limits. They are forbidden. Do not enter there.”
 
He sits down and Helga stands up in his stead.
“Now, you will be sorted after dinner as I am sure you are hungry. Tomorrow we
will ascertain your temporary level.”
 
She claps into her hands and food appears on the tables. Most of the students
seem bored as if they're used to it, but there are a few awed faces.
 
The food is... a feast. There are mountains of food... if not mountains then
hills at the very least.
There's fruit, vegetables, meat, broth, bread buns, pies, something that reminds
me a bit of pizza, grilled pigeons... I could go on. The tables are laden in
food.
 
Aaaaand the people are stuffing their faces. Ew. This is disgusting. I didn't
expect much of table manners but this... Pieces of food are flying every were,
many of the children stuff themselves with at least twice as much as their
mouths can chew... The kid two places down on the other side of the table keeps
letting half-chewed food fall from his mouth.
 
Sigh. I force myself to stare at my plate and only there. It works for a short
bit that I can eat more or less in peace but then some food from another plate
lands on mine. No. I push my plate away and grab my goblet – but even in there
are berries I did not put in there myself. I don't know how much food their
families can afford, but some of them eat like starved men. No, not even that.
Starved people would savour the food...
 
I don't care all that much for table manners – I prefer drinking water from a
bottle than out of a glass, most of the time I find it unnecessary to hold a
knife I don't need in my right hand, and put the fork in my right hand (unless
we're eating out); but this... 
 
I shudder in disgust and resolve to try to get up early tomorrow so that I can
get some food before they put me off it.
There's not even a conversation I can listen to or participate in. They are too
busy with eating.
 
I take a look at the head table. Helga looks decidedly green and Rowena is
talking to her. I hope she's telling her to include basic table manners in her
etiquette lessons. Salazar is ignoring the whole thing and sips on his goblet.
Godric is massaging his head. I'm guessing they didn't expect it to be that bad.
 
Screw table manners, at least teach them to chew with their mouths closed. I
remove some berries from my hair and resume observing the head table.
The grounds keeper seems unbothered, as does the healer. The cook looks ready to
murder someone. Slowly and painfully.
 
Finally, the massacre is over. Helga claps again and the food, all of it
thankfully not just the things on the plates and dishes, disappears.
 
“Now, we will sort you in the order you've arrived.” Oh, crap. “Honoria?
Would you please come up here?”
I groan. I make my way towards her – right now I want to be anywhere but here.
Everyone is staring at me. I hate people staring at me.
She motions at me to sit on a stool Godric sets down in front of the head table.
I sit. What will happen now?
Oooooooooh. The sorting hat. At least I think that's what Rowena is handing
Helga. I thought it would look new but it already looks crumbled, wrinkly.
She drops it on my head.
 
Well, hello there. My very first student to sort. Let's see.
Hello.
Hm. You are interesting, child. Are all young minds like you--- My word, what is
this. 
Err... what is what?
Those images in your head, child. They are impossible. What are you?
I don't know what you mean... I am human, am I not? And anyway what are you
asking me this, you are a hat. Do you have a name?
So what if I am a hat. I am a magical artefact. What does my form matter?
Are you sentient? You call yourself I, but are you truly cognitive? I've always
wondered. 
What do you mean, sentient? I am. I am here to sort you.
How do you actually know who to sort where? 
The founders gave me images of their minds so that I could recognize which
founder you fit the most.
Hm. I see. 
So, --- 
You did not answer my other question? Do you have a name?
Why would I have a name?
I don't know. It's just weird to talk to, well, think to you and call you
“hat”.
I am a magical artefact in the form of a hat.
It's still stupid. You seem at least semi-sentient. You should have a name. Ask
the founders for one.
I will do no such thing. I---
Why not?
I need no name. Now, will---
That's ridiculous. Do you really want to be called 'hat' for centuries, if not
millennia?
You confuse me with a human, child.
I do not. I am very aware that you are a magical artefact in the form of a hat,
not a human. Still, do you call me human just because I am?
Do you wish for me to call you human?
Argh. No. That wasn't the point. How can I trust a nameless hat to sort me?
I am a magical artefact made by the founders of this school. You wish to learn
here, you should trust them.
That does not mean... oh, this is stupid. I'll call you Maverick and be done
with it.
I do not need a name.
Then do not see it as a name but as my nickname for you. Now, you wanted to sort
me?
Yes. Your mind is strange.
Yeah, I guess you won't find another one like it here.
I certainly hope not.
You can hope?
It is a human expression to be used in such a situation, is it not? And no, I do
not hope. I do not have human feelings after all.
Hmm. I see.
Now, will you finally let me sort you?
Sure, go ahead.
Let's see... Hufflepuff is not the one for you. Neither is Gryffindor. My what
is this metal bird in your thoughts?
What metal bird? 
What is this?
…
…
Maverick? Hat? You still there?
Be gone with your impossible mind. 
What? 
SLYTHERIN.
Yeah, I could've told you that.
 
Helga takes the hat off my head and looks at me in disbelief. Godric, behind
her, shrugs and hands me a clothes pin. They send me back to my seat. I feel
like I am on cloud nine. I was just sorted, not that the house was a surprise, I
always get Slytherin. But I was the very fucking first student to be sorted.
Poor Maverick. Can't be easy to have to start with a crazy time traveller or
whatever the hell happened to get me here.
 
The sorting hat! Now that it's over and people are no longer staring at me, I
relax. And oh my god. I just got sorted!! I'm officially a Hogwarts student now.
How cool is that. And Slytherin, obviously. Awesome! Oh, Mimi would so kill to
be here in my stead, especially now. And she'd probably be very creative in
hiding my body, too. Not that I can really fault her for that. This is so cool!
… And now I do sound like a thirteen year old. No matter. Nothing can ruin
this for me today. I'm in Hogwarts, got sorted into Slytherin and---
 
Shit. I made the mistake of looking up and accidentally meeting Salazar's eyes.
There is a second person who would kill me because of this then. And this time
it's definitely not figuratively any more. I'm dead. I am so dead. He looks as
if he wants to chop me into potion ingredients, transfigure me into something
awful, kill me very, very painfully. Or maybe not kill me per se, but torture
me.
 
In all my euphoria of being here and being sorted into the house I always get
sorted in by those tests on the internet and that I would've chosen for myself
even without that... I'd forgotten one thing. One crucial detail.
 
Slytherin left the school because he failed to convince the others to exclude
muggle borns. Slytherin hates muggles born. And I am muggle-born. Darn. Fuck.
Shit. I don't know enough curse words by far to adequately express how utterly
fucked I am. Someone please kill me now?
 
“-LEPUFF!”
 
Oh, right. Sorting. People are still being sorted. Let's concentrate on that
instead on my imminent death. I don't know how many sortings I missed but it
can't have been too many as Helga is calling for “Cepheus Black!” right now.
He is sorted into Ravenclaw in less than thirty seconds.
 
“Eridanus Black!” The small boy almost trips on his way to them. To my
surprise he is sorted into Hufflepuff – not exactly what I expected from a
Black. Then again, wasn't Tonks a 'Puff?
 
There are too many people for me to keep track of them. To make it worse, many
of the names sound alien to me, familiar, but alien. Don't ask me how that
works. Part of my brain is telling me that those are completely normal names,
another part is sure that those names have long since died out. I tune it out
mostly, I know myself well enough to know, that I won't remember even half of it
anyway.
 
“Mildred Dumbledore.” Uh oh. Maybe she won't te--- “SLYTHERIN!” Okay,
there goes my last chance of Salazar not realizing I'm muggle-born. Yep. To
repeat my earlier thought, I. Am. Fucked.
 
There are a couple of names I forget as soon as I heard them but then,
 
“--- Peverell!” What? It's not one of the three... oh, no, it's just a girl
with reddish pig-tails.
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
“Elric Peverell!” A second one? This one is younger than the girl. Just like
her he lands in Hufflepuff.
“Leofric Peverell!” Another one? How many of them are there? But the
carbon-copy of Elric lands in Slytherin and is the last of that name.
 
I wonder. Does the legend of the three brothers already exist in this time?
Might be worth to check it out.
 
“--nd Weasley.” Ui, a Weasley. I knew they were technically pure blood but I
didn't think they existed this early. The hat doesn't even really touch his head
before it already cries out:  “GRYFFINDOR!”
 
“Godiva Ollivander.”
“RAVENCLAW.” I wonder how she's related to Gaia. Maybe I'll ask her some
day.
 
The last one to be sorted is “Belladonna Malfoy.” - “RAVENCLAW.”
After the sorting Helga tells us to go to our dormitories and choose our rooms.
After that we will have an hour to start exploring the castle a bit – judging
by how Rowena is seemingly talking to thin air, the house elves are set to high
alert – before our curfew.
 
I trudge to the room I've chosen before and am soon joined by another girl
around my age.
“Hello. I'm Wilburh Abbot  and this” she holds out her hand with something
fluffy on it “is Fluffy my puffskein. Do you mind if we join you?”
 
I have to stop myself from laughing at the thought of the last pet called
Fluffy. I grin at her. “Go ahead. I'm Honoria by the way and this is
Morgana.”
Morgana playfully snaps at me when I point at her. I am glad, two days ago she'd
have bitten me instead.
 
She claims the bed opposite mine.
 
“So this is where our age group will be. Hmpf. Well, it'll have to, it's not
as if the other rooms are better. I'm Aldreda Willard by the way and you two
are?” Wow. This is starting out great. This bitch is looking at Wilburh and me
as if we were the dirt beneath her nails. Yay. I don't need this.
 
“I'm Wilburh Abbot and this is---”
“Who cares about your stupid puffskein.” Ah, so that's what it is. “And
who're you?”
I raise my eye brow. “I am Honoria.”
“Pfft. Ashamed of your family, are you? Ha. You probably should be, I've never
heard of you. What's your families name?”
This is getting better and better... not. What the hell those she think who she
is?
“Too ashamed to speak up, huh. Pathetic.”
Well, I'm not making friends there, that's for sure.
 
“I'm Honoria Wulfric, if you must know.” I try to put as much disdain as
possible in my voice. I think I failed. And crap. I planned on calling myself
Wulfe but no. I mix shit up and accidentally claim a first name as a last name.
This is going great.
 
Willard is muttering something about how useless my family is as she's never
heard of them when another girls joins us. Those two I recognize from the
sorting. Godiva Ollivander and something something Peverell. Ah. She introduces
herself and her owl as “Aldith Peverell and this is Julius Caesar. I didn't
name him, my idiot of a cousin did.”
 
Is that a--- Oh, this can only go downhill. Godiva's pet is a Cornish Pixie. Oh
my. I hope that single won't be as much trouble as the lot of them in the
Lockhart disaster. The pixie is introduced as Talon. I want to know the story
behind that.
 
Willard claims the bed opposite the door, leaving the bed next to the door and
the bed between hers and Wilburh's to Aldith and Godiva. Godiva drops her things
on the one next to mine.
 
She turns to me and demands to know if I'm the Honoria that bought a wand at her
great-aunt Gaia's store a couple of days ago.
I nod and she looks at me curiously.
“You impressed Auntie Gaia.” How? How in the world did I impress a wand
maker? 
I open my mouth to ask, but she grabs my arm and drags me out. Morgana's not
even growling, the traitor. She just trots beside us.
 
“So... oy, Talon stop it.” Talon is messing up her hair but apart from that
short verbal reprimand she does not bother with it. “So, how is Madam
Ravenclaw as a person? You've been here first, have you talked to her?”
 
I shrug. “A little bit. She's very, very protective of her scrolls and
books.”
“Of course she is, she is---” Godiva is interrupted by someone clearing
their throat. We both look up and I pale.
 
Salazar Slytherin still looks far from happy at seeing me. Godiva quickly
excuses herself and abandons me to his clutches. Oh well, it was only a matter
of time. Good bye, sweet world.
 
“So.” He stares at me.
“Y-yes?” Right now, he scares me. But I resolve to weather the coming storm
no matter what. I am a Slytherin and no one will tell me otherwise not even
Slytherin himself! On a side note, his face does not look wrinkled. Apparently
he’s just naturally grey. Even his eyes are, not that it lessens his glare.
 
“Your name is Honoria, right?”
I nod uneasily. “Honoria Wulfric.”
“Do not lie to me. Claim to be what you want, on the list of names Godric gave
us you have no family name.” he accuses me. I am unsure what to answer. What
he says is true after all. I am known only as Honoria. Me now choosing Wulfric
as a second name does not change the fact of who I am. I can pretend all I want
around the students – honestly I don't get why blood matters that much to
them. Yes, I know the whole shebang about purity, traditions, heritage and so
on. The whole 'we come from magic and you don't'. I'm probably more
knowledgeable than some of them, not that I can use a spell that was invented in
the seventeen hundreds or something the like.
Fact is, I'm not stupid enough to try to lie to Salazar about this.
 
But, knowing what I know, I refuse to be intimidated by a pure-blood
supremacist. Oh, who am I kidding. I am intimidated. But I won't go down without
a fight.
 
“I did not lie. Professor Gryffindor said that I could choose a last name as I
am the only student in the school without one.” Way to rub it in, that you're
muggle born, Idiot. I inwardly sigh at my own stupidity. Sometime I should
really think before I talk.
He glares at me. “What of your family?”
“They are dead as far as I know.”
“I see.” His voice is so pointed I wouldn't be surprised could it be used
for needle work. “Were they magical?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Not to your knowledge.” Slytherin is not impressed.
“Professor Gryff---”
“Don't mention that buffoon. He's the reason I got landed with you.”
With all due respect, sir, you do not know me. But apparently it is too much to
ask that you would give me a chance.
 
“I don't know what that imbecilic piece of rotten textile was thinking,
putting you in my house. It must be a prank of Godric's. It almost reeks of
him.”
Whoa. Salazar looks pissed. And not just a little.
“A prank.”
“He must have had the hat sent me the student that least fits my house.”
Okay, now I'm offended. I get the whole mudblood thing – I don't agree with
it, far from it – but I get the dislike of muggles. Witch hunts can't be fun.
But judging my character on nothing but thin air...
“What is your house then?”
“Ha. No manners and you don't even know what my house stands for.”
Okay, first, why would I? I mean, yeah I do, but that's future? Fandom?
Knowledge. They did not introduce the houses further than stating who headed
them. Second, do you know what your house stands for? Because if it – against
what I know of the history here – only stands for pure-blood children... This
will be a sad house.
 
“An affinity to snakes given your emblem?”
He really does not like my answer. He looks at me as if he is plotting my death.
“Such cheek will not be tolerated, you hear me?!”
I am very tempted to answer likewise. I refrain and only roll my eyes.
 
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Got something to say?”
“With all due respect, Professor, you do not know me.”
“And I don't wish to. Godric should not have brought you here. You have no
place here.”
It's a  bit too late for that.
I hold his gaze. “Professor Gryffindor did bring me here. And that hat sorted
me into your house.”
“That infernal hat was Godric's idea, I told them it was a stupid endeavour.
No matter. It cannot be changed now. But beware, child. If you shame the
Slytherin name, the consequences will not be pleasant.” He abruptly turns
around and marches away.
 
Oh, I'm allowed to live then? Good. I don't plan on shaming anyone. Oh, well.
All in all, I'd say this went pretty well. There was even some very reluctant
respect in his eyes when I stood my ground. I still think he hates me, or
rather, what I represent and me because of it, not because of myself... I am
unsure if that thought made sense even in my own head.
 
I try to find Godric to tell him of my new last name. When I finally find him,
he laughs when I ramble about it being a first name and tells me not to worry.
It wouldn't be the first name that can be used as both according to him. Then he
points out that the curfew is only five minutes away and sends me back.
 
Helga and Rowena are checking the return of each student. Rowena checks the
boys, Helga the girls.
“Good choice for a name.” Helga tells me as she wishes me a good night.
 
Back in my room I am glad to notice that I – and the other three as well –
am back before Willard. Godiva and Wilburh are playing some sort of game with a
few stones and Aldith is curled up in a ball and cuddling her puffskein.
 
After the ritual of daily hygiene (well at least using the toilet and washing my
hands) I make my way to my bed and drop down. Sleep will be much appreciated
now, as I can't imagine that tomorrow will be an easy day.
 
I am quite drowsy and half asleep when the door bangs open and Willard enters
the room ranting about the 'stupid-ass curfew' and how she does not need such a
thing as a curfew and therefore does not need to heed it.
 
Now I don't know how your parents raised you but this is not how the world
works.
 
During her rant she reveals that she has gotten a detention to my inner glee.
While I would much rather sleep, it is quite amusing to hear her rant about she
hadn't done anything and that the founders  prejudiced and what not. I find it
amusing until I realize that I am sharing a room with her for an indefinite
time. With that in mind it is just depressing to watch her rant.
 
I grab my pillow and put it over my head so that I can sleep.



                            Kapitel 6: Chapter Six
                            ----------------------


The next morning I am up early, well, earlier than the other girls. I grab my
things and make my way to the bathing rooms. It may not be the norm around here
but I quite like daily hygiene. Morgana is not happy that she has to wait while
I clean up. She completely shredders what substitutes as a towel 'round here.
 
I drop my things off – the other four are still sleeping – and make my way
down to the Great Hall with a small side trip outside so that Morgana can do her
business as well.
 
The hall is empty. Not even the adults are here. I sit down at one end of the
table (that's one side less where food can come flying from). There is no food
on the tables yet but as soon as I sit down, Rinka appears and asks me if I want
to wait for the others – not really – or if I want something now. I get a
bowl of broth from the day before.
 
Luckily, I am finished by the time the first of the others arrive. The first one
is Cepheus Black who is dragging his cousin with him. He looks annoyed once he
spots me. Apparently he doesn't like to be bested in anything, even if it is
getting up first. He chooses a place for them to sit as far away from me as
possible. Great...
 
A couple of minutes later a whole flock of girls appear, with Willard at the
front. They claim the middle part of my table. I ignore them mostly. They sat
away from me, I am not getting up and changing seats to sit next to them. Plus,
they are loud and annoying. I try to tune them out.
 
Godiva sits down facing me and drops her head on the table. “Sleepy.” she
mumbles. “Can't they be quiet? I want to sleep.”
I laugh lightly and shake my head. “I doubt it.”
“Damn.”
She looks like a coffee addict in the morning, only I don't think coffee exists
yet. One of the house elves – one I haven't met before – gives her a
steaming goblet of something. It looks like sludge. Godiva sips the stuff and I
can literally watch her wake up and get lively.
 
The hall gets crowded and loud. I thought yesterday was loud but this is even
louder. Seems like quite a few of them were still scared yesterday and... well,
they're probably still a bit scared but they already spent a night here and this
new day is exciting...
 
The teachers arrived sometime in the chaos. Helga and Rowena still look slightly
ill at the sight of the students eating. None of the adults are eating. They
probably already ate in the kitchens. Slytherin is ignoring everyone and reading
a scroll. Rowena stops watching and starts to write something. Godric is happily
oblivious and tries to regale Helga and Æthelred with some stories. Both are
more suffering through it than actually listening.
 
After a while Rowena says something to Godric and he gets up and claps his
hands. The hall is instantly quiet. They really like special effects. If I
hadn't been watching them anyway (leave me alone, they are the founders!) I
would've missed Helga and Rowena casting some spells under the table. Those
must've been some kind of silencing spells with Godric's clapping merely for
effect.
 
“Now that I have your attention, I will explain today's agenda. After
breakfast – that means now – you will be sorted into your preliminary class
levels. Since this is the first year we're teaching you, there will be no class
four. Only few will be sorted into class three. Most of you will be in class one
and two. As we said yesterday, these class affiliations are not permanent.
 
“You will be in these classes for the beginning but if you are above or below
the level of these classes we will move you. In the beginning they are so that
we can properly determine your real level.
 
“Like yesterday with the houses, you will be sorted in the order you've
arrived. So listen up and remember your group.”
 
He sits down and like yesterday, Helga takes over. She calls out the name
followed by the class number. I tune her out after my turn – what use is
listening to the names if I don't even know who they belong to.
 
I am in level one. I'm not surprised that I ended up there despite my age
considering that I apparently am the single, only muggle-born student in the
entire school.
 
x_X_x
 
“Now,” Oh, Godric's voice again, I better pay attention now. “that we've
taken care of that, all belonging to class Two can leave the hall. Class Three
can leave as well – your first lesson will be together with class two. You
will have lessons with Professor Slytherin.”
 
Salazar seems really unimpressed.
 
“Class One will remain here. Your first lesson will be with Professor
Hufflepuff. Your lesson will begin in a couple of minutes. I suggest you move
closer to the head table once the others have left.
 
“Class Two and Three, please follow me and Professor Slytherin.”
 
There is a lot of running around, and at least four people run up to Professor
Hufflepuff because they missed which class they're in. Slowly but surely the
hall empties. Only about half of the students remain. Godiva is one of those who
leave.
 
Since I was sitting at the end facing the head table I just wait until this mess
is over.
 
“Hey there.” The small boy from yesterday comes running and skips to a stop
in front of me and almost over-balances. He manages to catch himself and sits
down in Godiva's seat.
“You're in Slytherin as well!” He happily proclaims. And yes, he is wearing
a Slytherin clothes pin as well. Why me?
 
“I am Myrddin Emrys.” Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. Seriously. Myrddin
Emrys. Holy mother of... Merlin. That's Merlin sitting there right in front of
me. The Merlin.
 
I force myself to answer before the pause becomes awkward.
 
“Nice to meet you. I'm Honoria Wulfric.” I smile at him.
“Nice.” He nods happily. “So what do you think our first lesson will
be?”
“Mhm. Well, since Professor Hufflepuff is teaching... either Etiquette or
Charms. And since I doubt they'd start with Charms and added the fact that we
were told to remain in the Great Hall, it's probably going to be Etiquette.”
“Wow.” He blinks. “I didn't think of that.”
 
“Now, find a seat and quiet down.”
The instant silence is eerie. I doubt that it will remain that easy to silence
the students though.
Helga smiles at us.
“Your first lesson will be in Etiquette.”
“Wow, you predicted that!” I sigh over his exclamation. Everyone is quiet
but no. Merlin has to... basically yell. Now everyone is staring at us. Yay.
 
Helga shoots a look in our direction but continues as if nothing had happened.
“We will start with something fundamental – table manners.” Oh, thank god.

 
A small girl three seats down is asking her neighbour what “table manners”
even means. This is going to be a loooong lesson.
 
During the mayhem of everyone either leaving or finding a seat, the elves had
cleaned the tables. Now cutlery appears on it. There are some sort of knife, a
spoon and a kind of fork with only two... fingers? How are those things even
called? I've seen something similar used for spearing meat or cheese.
 
“Can anyone name what these objects in front of each of you are?”
 
“Daggers!.” someone from further down the second table yells out.
 
“Please raise your hand if you know the answer and then I will call on you.
But in regards to that answer, not quite. Can someone correct her?”
 
No one raises their hands. I wait and after a few moments hesitatingly raise my
hand.
 
“Yes, Hono... Ms. Wulfric?”
“Knifes?” My answer is more of a question than an answer, but she nods.
“Correct. Can someone tell me the difference?”1
 
Silence.
 
“No? No matter. We will return to that later then. Now, what else is
there?”
Again, no one answers.
“A fork and a spoon. Can anyone which one's which?”
Some poor boy, around 10 maybe, answers.
“Correct. But please, in the future, raise your hand. Now, which of those
utensils is used for what?”
 
Why do I have to go through this? I know which to use when, even if they aren't
what I am used to, it is obvious which modern item they're the equivalent of.
 
“NOW,” and wow Helga can be loud if she wants, “the most important thing:
Chew with your mouths closed.”
Finally. I hope they take that to heart, I don't know how many meals like the
dinner yesterday I'd survive otherwise.
 
Helga quizzes them on what each of the utensils is, how they are used and when
and for what a couple of times. Boooooring. Seriously, what are this people
doing? That question has been answered five times so far and you still don't
know the answer...
 
Merlin looks like a kicked puppy when it's his turn but he manages to answer
correctly. He looks right proud of it too, not that it's much to be proud of.
Sigh. I feel as if as if I'm surrounded by preschoolers.... which probably isn't
that far off.
 
Helga then goes on to tell them about how you should only bite off as much as
one can chew. And that one should chew with their mouth closed. That one
shouldn't just reach over others – ask if someone can pass you something. And
eat with your mouth closed. I think I'm seeing a pattern here.
 
I tune her out mostly – the things she's saying is obvious to me mostly.
Natural, taken for granted basically. To my amusement she returns to the
mouth-closed thing a lot. Like every second point on her agenda. Subtlety thy
name is not Helga Hufflepuff.
 
I suffer through the lesson. It does take ages. And ages. And ages. It only
stops when the others return for lunch.
 
The only thing of interest (to me) that she said it that our pets also have to
learn manners and that we're responsible for that ourself. They have to be house
trained. We are responsible for feeding them, cleaning them, letting them
relieve themselves and so on. Apparently one of the girls' dorm rooms was ….
pretty much an animal toilet this morning.
 
I guess I got lucky. So far I had no problems with Morgana. I've taken her
outside whenever she needed to go – wolves are similar to dogs so I treated
her like one in that aspect – and the house elves are really helpful if I ask
them for some meat for her. But I'm guessing that it won't remain that easy. At
the moment she's pretty complacent and I doubt it'll stay that way. If she's
anything like any pet I know she's going to try testing the boundaries soon. Her
being more intelligent than other wolves will probably only make it worse
instead of helping with it. And she does seem more intelligent to me, not that I
have much experience with wolves if any.
 
Lunch is... where they even listening? I resolve to grab a bite in the kitchen
as soon as I can make a get away. There is no way I am eating here and now.
Merlin at least is trying but some of the others... I mean, yes, habits are hard
to break but they could at the very least make an effort. They don't even try.
Sure, some of them are – young Eridanus for example is trying valiantly as
well. So are others. But there are also some who seemingly can't be bothered. On
the other hand... half the people here didn't even have that lesson yet, so
maybe it only seems as if people aren't putting enough effort into it.
 
To distract myself I watch the head table again. Don't sue me, the founders are
interesting. Helga watches the students despairingly, Rowena in disdain, Salazar
is hiding behind his goblet and Godric seems completely oblivious. He's eating
happily. Then again, he's only looking at his on plate, not towards the students
and up there on the head table he doesn't have to worry about the food from
other people flying around and landing on his plate.
 
Salazar is sipping his goblet with the air of someone who is in a place that is
far far beneath them. Right now I can't even fault him for that.
 
At the end of lunch Godric announces that lessons will be switched now. Second
and Third class will have Etiquette now and First class will have lessons with
Salazar.
 
Merlin attaches himself to my side when they lead us to our classroom in the
dungeons. Some of the older students are even trying to scare younger students
by telling them that we're being led to torture. Really? Bullies.
 
A girl my age tells them off for scaring her brother. Good. I don't have to get
involved then. I'm probably going to stick out enough as it is no need to make
it worse.
 
And yes, a couple of steps behind me, Mildred is telling the boy next to her all
about how there's an actual non-magical witch here at Hogwarts. I'm guessing she
means me though I find the description a bit confusing. A witch is magical, end
of story. But she probably means a witch of non-magical origin or something.
 
And, even better, the boy is now asking her who'd led such a monster into the
school. Monster? Really? I can already see that this going greatly. Sigh. Well,
I've been called names before. I'll handle it. Somehow.
 
By the time we've arrived at our class room the news that we have a 'non-magical
witch' has spread to half the class. The girl who tells me about it is
completely scandalized that they'd let someone like that close to children. I
feel a sense of dark amusement that she is ranting to me about it.
 
In all seriousness though, what do these people think they know about muggles?
Because it sounds as if 'muggle' was a contagious sickness. And here I thought
the whole pure-blood thing only really started in the nineteenth, twentieth
century.
 
Then she asks me what I think about it. I ask her if she's ever actually met a
muggle – she hasn't and my questions takes the wind right out of her sails.
She blinks, blinks again and asks the one who told her the exact same question.
Huh. I didn't expect that.
 
What did they think a “non-magical witch” was? Do they have even the
slightest notion? To me, they sound as if their telling ghost stories to each
other.
 
Godric tells them all to quiet down as we've arrived.
 
We are shown into a class room that could maybe hold forty people at the same
time. It has no windows – not even magical ones (do they exist yet? After all
the ceiling was normal as well). There are four rows of desks and a blackboard
at the front. I let Merlin pull me to a desk at the other end of the room.
 
Godric sits down in the back of the room and Salazar walks to the front and
writes something on a blackbord. The blackboard is actually a strange
reddish-brown. The chalk if that's what it is, is whitish beige.
 
“As you should know, I am Professor Slytherin. I will teach you Rune Magic and
Latin. We will see if you have any talent for that....” That last sentence is
more of an afterthought and probably not meant for us to overhear. “But before
we start with proper lessons, we will have to teach you how to read and write.
Who of you can read? Wulfric, what did I write on the board?”
 
He didn't give us any time to answer his question. He just called on me
immediately after. Of course he had to start with me...
 
“Welcome to Hogwarts.”
 
He blinks. Apparently he hadn't expected that. It seems he hadn't heard about me
being able to read – and having spent hours in the library already once.
 
He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'lucky guess' and I can hear
Godric trying and failing to stifle a snigger.
He erases it and writes something else. “Mr. Weasley?”
 
The Weasley stutters out that he can't read. As does 'Ms. Selwyn' – the girl
who told those students off earlier – and one of the Peverell twins. Young
Eridanus Black on the other hand can read. It's slow and staggering but he
manages.
 
After a while they split the class into who can read and who can't. It's about
half and half. Maybe a third can read kind of fluently but half of the class has
at least an idea of how to read. In theory they know the letters but they lack
the practice.
 
I'm just glad that the Latin alphabet had already been introduced in this time.
Many of the older – non-greek, non-roman – texts in Rowena's possession were
written in runes. And my knowledge of runes is limited. I now that there's the
Furthark alphabet, and I recognize the runes as runes but to actually read them.
I can identify one or two at the most.
 
Godric is taking those who absolutely can't read to the class room next door to
teach them their letters and Salazar is going to teach us how to write. Just
because people can read doesn't mean they can write after all.
 
He gives each of us remaining a sheet of parchment and tells us to start with
writing our name on top of it. Easy.
 
Or so I thought. While I can write, this body of mine has never learned it. In
theory I know the moves but there's no muscle memory. At university when we were
bored, a friend of mine and I sometimes tried to write stuff with our left
hands. (We both are right-handed.) That was already crippled and not exactly
easy to read, not to mention slow as hell... Well, this is even worse.
The fact that we're using quills and ink isn't exactly helping either.
 
My name is only barely resembling letters. Out of curiosity I try to switch
hands but that brings no improvement. I'm still right-handed I guess. I sigh.
 
Salazar tells us to write a couple of simple sentences of our choosing as an
exercise. I have no idea what to write, so I describe the library in the castle.
My writing actually gets a bit better. It's minimal but the act of writing is
getting easier a bit. Not that it gets more legible. It's still a mess.
 
Salazar walks through the rows of desks and takes a look at our work.
“Wulfric, what are those squiggles supposed to be?” Well, excuse me for
never having written before. And don't think I missed the fact that you're
calling me Wulfric, while everyone else is Miss X or Mister Y.
“My name and a description of the library, Professor.”
“That's neither a name nor a description.”
“Begging your pardon, Professor. I have never written anything before
today.” That makes me want to hurl, but let's pretend to play nice with that
prick of a professor. Never meet your heroes is definitely a sound bit of
advice. While I wouldn't exactly call Salazar a hero the point remains. People
will always shatter your preconceptions and turn out worse – unless you are a
prejudiced arse. Not necessarily worse actually just different. No person is
exactly the way you imagined them, not even you yourself.
 
Salazar snorts at me, tells me “Well, then you'll have to practice more, don't
you?” (You don't say.) and moves on to his next victim.
 
Mukashi mukashi otoko ga arikeri...2 Okay, drifting off while writing is
dangerous. Even if my writing were legible, that sentence still would make no
sense if any of the people here read it. I strike it out and since I need
something useful to write start to write Aragorn's poem3 – it's something I
memorised for fun and at least it's in English.
 
On his second round through the rows, Salazar tells people to read what they've
written. When it is my turn I reluctantly read out the poem. He narrows his eyes
and contemplates something.
“Are you a Seer?” He looks like someone who's bitten into a lemon or the
like. I blink. And blink. And then I desperately try not to burst out laughing.
On second thought.... he's not that far off, either. I do know stuff from a
possible future after all. Still.
 
I shake my head. “No, sir.”
He delicately raises a brow. “No? I see.” I wonder what he judged me for now
because that was definitely judging. But he does not say anything else to me.
 
“Mr. Black.”
“The sun is setting and the stars rise, Men are settling and the man is
wise?” It sounds more like a question but Salazar only nods and moves on so I
guess that Eridanus was reciting a known poem of this time.
 
One girl describes her pet sea gull, a boy repeatedly wrote the same sentence (I
am eleven)... After making his second round, Salazar sighs and starts writing
big letters on the board – an alphabet – and tells us to copy it down.
 
There are fewer letters than I expected. There is no modern “J” or “K”
or “Q”. He makes another round and corrects us. Most of us have to start
over, since they just wrote the letters down instead of copying it. I am one of
the few lucky ones, I only had to do one letter over and over and over again,
the rest were acceptable by the second try. Acceptable does not mean good
though.
 
It reminds me of my Japanese lessons. There we also had to copy the kanji
instead of just writing them however we wanted. Formal lessons are no place for
unreadable calligraphy. We were supposed to write it almost as if it were
printed – except for those kanji where the written and the printed version
differed.
 
Stop drifting off, Honoria! Slytherin dislikes you enough already. No reason to
make it worse. I try to reign myself in and go back to writing random stuff
down, this time trying to use the copied shiny new letters. It doesn't work that
great and I restart copying the alphabet.
 
This is very frustrating. Writing is something we do every day. At school, at
university, at work. Writing notes, a shopping list, dates... I know I am always
scribbling stuff down. Not being able to do that the way I am used to... I do
not like it. At all. It is disconcerting. The whole of the new-other-body thing
is already disconcerting but that is chronic and I can mostly ignore it. And
then something like this happens. Once I think I got used to it a new hurdle
appears.
 
Again this lesson only ends because one of the house-elves pops in to tell
Salazar that dinner was finished. He gives out some parchment so that we can
practice a bit till the next lesson and sends us to dinner.
 
Outside the classroom we meet the rest of class one again and Godric tells us
that we can go to dinner now and that we have to be in our dorms two hours
later.
 
I split away as soon as possible. There is no way I'm eating a meal with the
others that I do not have to. Not until they learn how to eat properly.
 
As far as the first day of lessons went, this is pretty disappointing. We didn't
get to do any magic. It wasn't even mentioned today. I hope we get to do
something tomorrow.
 
I groan. There are footsteps behind me. Why? I stop and turn around. It's
Merlin.
“Where are you going?”
“The kitchens.”
“Can I tag along?”
“Sure Emrys.”
“Call me Myrddin.”
“Only if you call me Honoria.”
He grins happily. …. oh my god. I am now on a first name basis with friggin'
Merlin.
 
We make our way to the kitchens where we are greeted by Bipp who is overjoyed
that I am visiting again (that we prefer them to the other humans to be exact).
He is happy to get us some food and we even manage to harangue him into sitting
down and eating with us. Emotional blackmail for the win.
I just had to look sad when he first declined and Merlin asked him if he didn't
like us and that was that.
 
It is really relaxing to be able to eat in peace. Or as much peace as you can
have with Merlin talking a mile a minute and Bipp being overawed at being
allowed to eat with us. That's annoying. I resolve to try and get them (him)
more used to it. It even has the nice side-effect of gossip. Once he finally
unfreezes enough to actually talk – and Merlin is letting him talk – we
learn a few interesting anecdotes.
 
Mr. Hill (he was in class one as well) lost his way thrice on the way to
breakfast. Bed-wetting happened less than they expected. (I really could've done
without that information.) There was an explosion in the dungeons at midnight
– either one of Rowena's or Salazar's experiments, I guess. And almost none of
the students thought to bring their pets outside for them to do their business
– the elves had to clean several hall ways several times today.
 
After dinner I drag Merlin outside for exactly that. Morgana runs around a bit
while we watch on and I find out that at the moment she seems to listen to what
I tell her – she almost runs into the lake and when I yell at her to get back
here, she returns. She's definitely more intelligent than a normal wolf –
without any training she technically shouldn't be able to understand what I want
from her. I pet her head and scratch her between her ears.
 
I ask Merlin if he has a pet and he reaches into a robe pocket and pulls out a
small kitten.
He shrugs. “She doesn't do much. Just sleeps mostly.”
The kitten purrs when he scratches her neck. She is cute. Really small, pure
black with a white pattern on its back.
“Does she have a name?”
He shakes his head. “No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
He shrugs again.
“She needs a name.”
“I know... I just haven't found one yet.... And I don't want to call her kitty
or pussy...”
“Hm... you can look for a name in the library soon.”
 
I sigh. “Let's go. We need to be at our dorms soon.” He nods, puts her in
his pocket again and spins on the spot so that he faces the same direction as I
am – the one we need to go – but he over-balances and falls flat on his
nose.
 
“Eh.” Wow, he's clumsy. “Are you all right?”
He jumps up again and nods. “That didn't even hurt. Don't worry I trip all the
time.”
How is that supposed to be reassuring?
“And the kitten?”
“Oh, she's fine. My uncle charmed that pocket. Nothing can happen to her while
she's in there. That is why she's in there most of the time actually.” He
smiles self-deprecatingly. “I'm just glad that today was one of the better
days.”
 
This time he walks in a more sedate pace. I shake my head in disbelief. This is
Merlin? He is so different from what I expected. Well, Rome wasn't built in one
day either.
 
We barely make it back before curfew.
 
 
1In this case the number of cutting edges. One on a knife and two on a dagger.
2The beginning of an old japanese story – the Taketori monogatari. The
sentence is pretty iconic.
3„All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.“
Tolkien: Lord of the Rings – The Fellowship of the Ring Chapter 10:
„Strider“



                           Kapitel 7: Chapter Seven
                           ------------------------


Something is licking my face. Ew. I blink and try to make something out but it
is completely dark. I feel around for my wand – something hairy is lying half
on top of it. Right, Morgana.
 
Lumos. (The light is slightly blue again.)
 
Morgana is nudging me with her snout. Sigh. It's in the middle of the night what
could she possibly want?
 
„Yes, yes. I'm awake, I'm awake. What is it?“ I ask her in a whisper and she
whines. I know that whine... Really? You need to go now? Great.
„Well then, come on.“ I silently get up and throw a robe over my sleep
clothes. Picking her up, I pad my way outside.
 
The castle is eerie like this. The candles are dark and the only light is the
bluish glow of my Lumos. Luckily there are no ghost here yet, it's creepy enough
as it is. I like it.
 
There are a couple of animals making a mess in the entrance hall. Sigh. Did they
not think to close their dorm room doors? What am I saying, some of them are
little children, of course not.
 
There are two cats, a dog, an owl (really?) and two that I cannot identify. I
quietly call for a house-elf and ask them if they could take care of the animals
and their mess – the elf vanishes the mess and starts herding the animals back
to their owner's dorm, when a second elf appears and suggests to keep the pets
to an unused room – so that the owners will realise their pets left in the
night. I don't  wait to find out what they decide, Morgana is whining again and
so I take her outside.
 
While I wait for her to do her business, someone approaches us.
“What are you doing out here, Wulfric?” Oh crap. Salazar.
“Well, my wolf needed to go, and I thought it was better if she did her
business outside...”
“There is a curfew for a reason.” Yeah, as if you really expect your
students to honour that. Well... he probably does expect them not to get caught.
“And if she didn't wake me, I'd still be in bed.” I sigh and grumble “And
there would still be a mess in the entrance hall because no one told the elves
about it.”
“What do you mean, Honoria?” Oh, joy, Rowena is here as well.
“Some of the others did not close their doors and a couple of pets escaped.”
“I see.”
“As punishment for being out after curfew, you'll clean the stables before
breakfast in the morning.”
Yay. Well, I guess it is to be expected. Rowena looks slightly surprised, but
then she nods.
“That will suffice. Now, go back to bed.”
 
I pick up Morgana and excuse myself. When I turn into a corridor off the
entrance hall, I can see that they're carrying a bag of herbs. Potion
ingredients? Or something for Salazar's experiments?
 
I fall into my bed and fall  asleep almost instantly – this is something I
could really get used to, considering the almost-insomnia I used to have. Waking
up in the morning on the other hand is hell on the other hand. One of the
house-elves rips me out of my sleep (he's nice about it but it feels that way
anyway) and tells me that I need to start on Professor Ravenclaws punishment –
even though it was Salazar that assigned it.
 
I make my way to the stables – telling Morgana to wait outside and praying
that she will listen – and start helping the house-elf there. He doesn't seem
to happy to see me, he probably knows that he'd be able to work a lot faster
without my help – vanishing stuff and so on. I don't know such magic yet and
the muggle way takes time.
By the time I am finished, I ache. This body is definitely not used to this kind
of work. The elf – Gibby – sends me away and vanishes the waste instantly
that I had needed so much time for to get it all out... Unfair. But there's
nothing I can do about that yet. I will, however definitely look up vanishing
spells. Even if I'm afraid they'll be higher level stuff.
 
Morgana's gone. Great. I want a god-damn shower – or a bath, whichever – but
I need to find her first. I try calling for her a couple of times and then I ask
Rinka if she could tell me where Morgana is. Rinka pops away to get her for me.
 
Once I have her back I scold her for disappearing. I suck at it. I can't really
blame her after all, I don't even have a leash, for heaven's sake. Not that I
really want her to suffer the indignity of a leash...
 
I carry her back inside and grab a quick bath. By the time I arrive in the great
hall, breakfast is in full swing. Resolving to ignore the others and their
manners, I make my way to Merlin – who is waving at me like crazy. I sit down
next to him and greet him – he pesters me about where I was, so I tell him. He
looks at me in sympathy – Cepheus who is sitting two seats down, in disdain.
The manners thing is definitely a work in progress, but there is progress.
Cepheus is even correcting younger students – and so is the Willard girl after
she sees him do it. She's a lot less successful than he is. I guess the Black
name has a lot of clout even in this time. Could also be the fact, that he is
polite about it even if he is haughty and that she's just snarling...
 
Like yesterday Godric announces our lessons after we eat. Apparently we will
have Transfiguration with him and Potions with Rowena in turns. Third class will
have their first charms lesson with Helga.
Godric tells us firsties to follow him and leads us to a classroom.
 
„Since theory is boring, we'll start with something practical. Each of you
take a stone“ he points his wand to the desk in front of the room where a
bunch of stones appear „find a seat and sit down.“
 
There is some chaos but then everyone settles down. I sit between Merlin – and
I should really start to call him Myrddin in my head so that I don't mess up –
and Eridanus Black.
 
“So. You all have a stone in front of you. We'll start easy. I won't make you
change it into something else let alone something living today. You will only
need to change it's form. Turn it into a stony cup. The incantation is
scutra.“
He explains and demonstrates the wand movement, which is a weird circling-point
motion. Then he tells us to try.
 
I try to change the pebble into a cup. Nothing happens. Considering the small
explosion I hear from somewhere behind me, that's probably a good thing. Godric
bustles over there and corrects the poor girl. She must be one of the younger
ones, judging by her voice and she sounds as if she's about to cry.
 
Merlin seems to be trying to stab his pebble. He succeeds in pushing it off the
table, and then nearly  capsizes the desk trying to get to his stone. Sighing I
grab his desk before he can over-balance it, and without really thinking about
it Accio his pebble.
 
It smacks against my head, making me curse. Someone gasps. I start to apologize
for the use of such language but Godric interrupts me. „What did you just
do?“
„Huh?“
He raises an eyebrow.
„What did you do, Ms. Wulfric?“
„Curse?“ I'm not sure if I'm trying to deflect his question or seriously
answering him.
„And why did you do that?“
„Err, well, I got hit in the head by a stone?“
He narrows his eyes.
„Did you summon it?“
„Eh.... maybe?“ Uh, oh. Why are you paying attention now? Couldn't you have
stayed oblivious? The not-sticking-out thing really is working great. Not. Damn.
 
He hums and tells me to concentrate on transfiguring the stone instead. I  drop
Mer--- Myrddin's pebble in front of him and go back to doing exactly that. Or
rather, I go back to not-doing exactly that. I can't get the stone to change
forms.
 
Godric does rounds and corrects our spell casting. Some have problems with the
pronunciation, some with the wand movement and some don't know how much magic to
put into the spell.
 
When he reaches us, he tells Myrddin to stop trying to stab the stone – it's
already dead – and demonstrates the proper wand movement again. In my case he
looks puzzled. Apparently my pronunciation is okay and the wand movement, while
not perfect, should suffice and therefore the spell should work without any
problems – but nothing happens. He corrects my wand movement a couple of times
– it changes nothing. Then he tells me to imagine a stone bowl and try again.
I am imagining a bowl, dammit!
 
Blink. Something happens. The stone changed. Well, the colour has changed. It's
red instead of grey now but hey, at least something happened. Godric just starts
to laugh. He tells me to work on it and moves on. Great. This is so not helpful.
 
Eridanus stones reminds me more of a ding than a cup but at least he managed it.
I'm a bit envious.
 
After what feels like several hundred tries – probably closer to fifty – I
finally manage to do something. It's not quite a cup, it's also not quite a bowl
but it has a definite bowl-ish form now. There is an indentation in it's middle.
Progress.
 
Not even half of the class manage a proper cup or bowl by the end of the lesson.
Eridanus is one of the few that do.
 
I consider going to the kitchens but since I don't know where exactly we will
have the lessons with Rowena, I accompany the others to lunch in the Great Hall.
 
It's getting better, people are trying (and in some cases epically failing) to
apply the Etiquette lessons we had, but at the very least, I don't get any stray
food on my plate (except for the pudding-y stuff Mer--- Myrddin drops on my
plate because I just have to try that. He's right, it's delicious.)
 
Compared to yesterday and breakfast today, lunch is a relatively quiet affair.
Mostly people concentrate on eating instead on talking and eating at the same
time.
 
After lunch, Rowena tells us to follow her and leads us to another room in the
dungeons.
 
The room is wide, a lot less cramped than the other class rooms – which makes
sense considering that we'll need space for all the cauldrons. There are rows of
desks of two, six seats in a row. Merlin and me end up on the front right one.
Probably not the safest spot since we can't see what the others will be doing
– though I doubt either of us would realize it in time if they messed up. I'm
not looking forward to a cauldron blowing up in my back. Not that my own
cauldron blowing up isn't a possibility but at least then it's my own damn
fault.
 
Rowena looks over us and tells us to settle down.
„Now. Potions is a very dangerous area. It is very important, but also very
dangerous. If you do not pay attention, you could easily injure someone. I will
NOT tolerate messing about. I will NOT tolerate day-dreamers. DO NOT experiment.
FOLLOW the recipe. Follow the recipe EXACTLY! A wrong ingredient at the wrong
time, a turn too many or too few, the flame to high or too low – all that
could prove FATAL. If I catch anyone playing around in this class he or she will
leave this school before they can say Hogwarts!
 
„Potions is an exact art. You need to pay attention to what you are doing and
when you are doing it. Because of the dangers inherent in these lessons, we will
NOT start with anything practical. We will only start on brewing, after I have
taught you the basics and you have learned them and taken them to heart!
 
„Potion ingredients react differently depending on how they're prepared. Does
anyone have any foreknowledge and can tell me such a way?“

Silence greets her. No one seems to be able or willing to answer her. She stares
at each of us in turn. I don't raise my hand – I have a good idea what she's
talking about – but I think it's safer if I don't show that. I'm a
muggle-born, it'd be a bit weird if I know more than the 'magical' kids.
 
„Ms. Wulfric.“
 
Damn. I forgot to take into consideration that Rowena had seen me in the
library. I repress a sigh.
 
„Um. Well, there is a difference between chopping, cutting, slicing and dicing
ingredients, Professor.“
 
She nods. „Correct. Depending on in which way you prepare something, it will
react differently. This is why I will teach you the differences and how to cut,
chop, slice and dice.“
 
She waves her wand and a cutting board and a small knife appears in front of
each of us.
 
„We will not start with any potent potion ingredient, they are far too
expensive to be wasted for simple practice. You will all learn on an Ascalonian
pallacana.“
 
Okay, never heard of that. What is tha--? Oh. She waves her hand again and an
onion appears in front of everyone.
 
„You should all own your own knives or daggers, but as this is a non-magical
plant, a simple conjured knife will do for today. There is no magic for the
conjuration to interact with. Such is another danger. Depending on how potent
and how volatile an ingredient is, you cannot use magic during the whole brewing
process. Some ingredients can't be used in any but a gold cauldron. But you will
not interact with such ingredients until year three, most likely.
 
„Now, on to the different ways to cut an ingredient. First, how to chop.“
 
The next hour and a half maybe – I have no clock and am guessing here – we
are taught how to correctly chop, cut, dice, slice, mash and so on. She gives a
couple of examples on how different ingredient can be used if they're prepared
this way or that way – but since she mostly uses Latin and or Greek
nomenclature I have difficulties with keeping those things straight. One of her
examples only varies in potency. Another one reacts as a base if chopped and an
acid if sliced if I understand her explanation correctly. Base and acid weren't
the words she used after all, but it's the only equivalent that makes sense with
her explanation.
 
Since I have some experience with these things due to cooking, I am faster than
some of the others which is both annoying – I have to sit around waiting in
between her demonstrations, but it is also a good thing: I manage to save Merlin
from cutting off a finger – a total of four times. He does alright with
chopping by keeping his hand a bit too far away, resulting in flying onion
pieces, but when it comes to slicing and dicing.... I spent half my attention on
watching him after the first almost-injury instead of cutting my own onion. My
pieces are a lot less accurate than they would've been normally – not that my
cutting, slicing, dicing whichever is perfect but at least he still has all ten
fingers. Seriously, it's hard to believe that he's the legendary Merlin.
 
After that semi-practical theory part of the lesson, she moves on to plants and
ingredients. She shows a couple of things and asks questions.
 
Quite a few of those things I've never heard of. Well, I'd probably know some of
them even if I can't recognize them myself, if they were using names that I
know. But even if I understand their English – which logically speaking must
be Old English – that apparently doesn't mean that I automatically understand
everything. Things that neither I nor a normal muggle child of this world would
know, I don't know as far as I can tell. Actually, I also know nothing a normal
muggle child of this age would know, I only understand the language.
 
Some other things, however, I do know.
 
Rowena asks us a couple of general questions: what frog legs are to be used for;
what plant A (Belladonna), plant B (Asphodel) and plant C (Dandelion) and other
plants are; what some beetles are... etc. etc. She quizzes us repeatedly. She
shows us three plants and asks which of those is the Belladonna... It's a bit
too much information in too short a time.
 
I try to pay attention but it's impossible to keep track of everything. I'd try
to write it all down but we have no parchment at the moment nor a quill.
 
„Where can you find a Bezoar?“

Oh, no. No. No, no, no. Damn. I can't pass this one up. I raise my hand. I
promised myself not to answer anything – unless she calls on me – but as a
Severus Snape fan, this question is impossible to ignore. Besides, Mimi would
massacre me if I didn't raise my hand for this. Not that I need that for
motivation.
That was one of the questions. I can't not answer that.
 
„Ms. Wulfric?“ She seems surprised that I know something this 'obscure'.
„Right now, over there on the second shelf“ - I point to the far wall -
„But normally, it can be found in the stomach of a goat, Professor.“
She nods. „Correct.“
Yeah, so much for not-sticking-out.
 
Well, the only people that really could notice something odd were Rowena herself
– and she clearly did – and Mildred... Oh, well.
 
The lesson – while impossible to follow completely – is really interesting
and educating. Rowena is just a bit fact-fact-fact. It's dry. Other teachers
would tell anecdotes to make it more likely, Godric would probably run away from
the original topic and end up just telling stories so maybe it's better that
way. It is interesting how differently the founders teach.
 
“Mr. Emrys.”
Uh oh. Mer--, eh, Myrddin is silently panicking next to me. I would help him but
as I had drifted off in thoughts, I didn't catch her question. Okay, no, to be
honest, I probably wouldn't help him anyway – I already said (knew) enough for
one lesson.
 
Merlin stutters something – I have no idea what – but apparently he is
correct – Rowena nods.
“Correct. It's ….” She repeats a – presumably – Greek name and I have
no idea what she just said. It could've just as easily been Chinese or Nahuatl
for as much as I understood. Oh, well. I'm here to learn. I can't know
everything from the get-go, not even with the help of the books and everything.
 
The Peverell girl makes me antsy. Seriously. My heart hurts. That girl spends
way too much time on explaining the difference between monkshood and aconite.
Why? Rowena didn't even anything in that direction – she just asked what
aconite was and the girl apparently thought that it would be easier to explain
it in comparison to monkshood. It makes me want to hit my head on my desk –
repeatedly. Merlin is already looking at me strangely.
 
Rowena, on the other hand, is looking at the girl in abstract horror. Well, she
does try to hide it but it shines through in the moment it takes her to get over
the shock and interrupt the girl. She's gentle though. I almost expected her to
call that girl a dunderhead or something... but that's just because in my mind I
can't really picture anyone other than Snape teaching potions, not even
Slughorn.
 
Again, the lesson only ends when a house elf pops in to tell us that dinner is
ready. This time I follow the group back to the Great Hall – with only a short
side trip to let Morgana out. I wonder what will happen if we have real lessons
– I highly doubt we'll be allowed to take them along. I was really surprised
that they were let into the potions class room even if we weren't brewing today.
Is contamination even a thing in this time?
 
Dinner is okay, simple broth and some apples. Most people are eating quietly but
not all. Apparently there was an accident in Class Two's transfiguration lesson
which resulted in three people in the hospital wing: Someone didn't pay enough
attention, tried the spell and blew something up instead. I guess I'm lucky I
was in the lower class today – knowing my luck I'd have been one of the ones
injured.
 
The student next to me (he is one of the older ones) suddenly turns to me after
he's finished eating. “I don't know you.”
I blink. Okay? “I... see.” Actually, no I don't. What's his point? “I'm
Honoria Wulfric.”
He stares at me. “And who are you, since I don't know you either?”
The kid next to him gasps. Okay, apparently that was a faux-pas. Crap. It seems
he's well-known...
“I am Nero Selwyn.” Oh. Ouch. Yeah, that's a name I actually do now... And
not just from the girl earlier. Friggin' Dolores Umbridge.
Let's just pretend everything's normal...
“It's pleasure to meet you.”
He snorts – rude – and shakes his head. “You are the non-magical witch,
aren't you?”
Now it's my turn to snort. “No. I am magical, you know, being a witch and all.
But, yeah, I'm the muggle-born witch if that's what you mean.” As much as I
would have liked to keep that a secret, I don't think for a second that it's
still feasible. Damage-control it is, then.
 
Some of the students around us are aghast. One actually whimpers. Really? I
shake my head.
“What about it?”
“Why'd they let you into the school?”
“Because I'm a witch.”
“But you're muggle-born.”
I shrug. What am I supposed to say? I can't really tell them that most
muggle-borns are descended from squibs.
“So?”
“You're non-magical.”
“Again, being a witch means you're magical.”
“But you're muggle-born.” Didn't we cover that already?
“Yes? Your point being?”
“You're muggle-born.”
Sigh.
“As far as I know.”
“But you have magic.”
“Yes.”
“How does that work?”
“You're asking me? I have no idea. I just know that somehow it does. Sakes, a
couple of days ago I didn't think magic was, well, magic. And not
superstition.”
Some of them look scared. Great. To be talked about and called names, that I am
used to. But to actually be feared is... freaky. Not a feeling that I like. At
all.
“What is it?”
He kind of shrugs and the others look away.
“I'm a witch just like the rest of you. A first-generation witch if you'd
like, I don't know. I have magic, the way you do. I don't know any more than
that. Anything else you would probably have to ask Professor Gryffindor, since
he was the one who” found me “picked me up in Lon, err, Lundenburh.”
 
And that is evidently the cue for them to turn away and return to their own
conversations. Nero looks at me consideringly and shakes his head “At least
you're not completely hopeless.” gets up and walks away.
 
Err... okay? I'm confused. What the heck? I eye Myrddin questioningly but he
only give me a look that says don't ask me. No help there, then.
 
Shortly after that we return to the dorms... well, I do. Myrddin somehow manages
to fall down the stairs in such a way that he breaks his leg. And again, he
reassures me that he's had worse. Seriously  though, that is NOT reassuring,
not in the least. With the help of Bipp I deliver him to the infirmary where
Healer Brooke is then grumbling about how it's only the first day of lessons and
he already has four guests... He checks Myrddin in and sends me away.
 
When I enter my dorm all four of my room mates are staring at me.
“Err, hi?”
“Is it true? You're non-magical?”
I sigh. “No. I'm not.”
Willard puffs herself up angrily. “You are the non-magical.”
Rolling my eyes I raise my wand and levitate one of the pillows around.
“See? Magical.”
Aldith snatches her pillow out of the air and I drop the spell.
“Don't lie.” (Willard again)
Godiva snorts and grins at me. “Technically, she isn't.”
“She is --- “
“You're asking her the wrong question.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Seriously, Aldreda. Think.” Godiva rolls her eyes. “Wulfric. Are your
parents non-magical?”
“As far as I know.”
“See?! She lied.”
I can practically watch that little vein from the comics pop on Godiva
Ollivander's temple.
“She just demonstrated that she is magical. Her parents are non-magical. She
may be non-magical-born. Muggle-born. But she, herself, isn't.”
Willard glares at her then me then her again.
“Hmph. Changes nothing. She's still shouldn't be here.”
I merely roll my eyes. Aldith and Wilburh don't seem to trust me all that much,
but they seemed mostly non-hostile. Godiva doesn't seem to care one way or the
other. Willard on the hand seems determined not to like me. Well, I don't like
her either. She's full of herself. And an idiot as far as I can tell. And a
self-important idiot at that. But then I always had a problem with people that
thought that they were better than others.
 
I make my way to my bed and relax there, cuddling with Morgana, when suddenly
someone curses – it looks as if Aldith' pet – the owl – has chosen to
relieve itself on top of her bed.
Sigh.
I turn my back on them and try to sleep, not that that's possible in the
resulting chaos. I could kiss Godiva for silencing the others when she has
enough of Aldith and Willard arguing. Damn, but Willard is really annoying. It's
not as if she'd thought of letting her bird out either.
 
I put my pillow over my head and try to ignore them.



                           Kapitel 8: Chapter Eight
                           ------------------------


That night is awful. The two birds are screeching, their respective owners are
yelling at each other – Godiva gave up on silencing them after the fourth
time. At some point Wilburh starts crying... I want to hit something.
And now Morgana's growling...

Fuck detention. I want to sleep. I grab Morgana and make my way to the door to
find some quiet place to sleep. 
“WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?”
“Somewhere quiet so I can sleep.”
“HOW DARE YOU! It's after curfew. You aren't allowed outside!” (Weren't you
the one bitching about how a curfew is unnecessary and it doesn't apply to you
just a few days ago, Willard?)
“Then be fucking quiet and let me sleep!”
“What's 'fucking'?” 
I hit my head against the wall at Aldith' question.
“It's a curse, well, a swear word... Now, can you two be quiet and silence
your birds – let them out to fly or something. Otherwise, I'm leaving.”
“It's after curfew.” Way to state the obvious, Willard.
“So?”
“We can't let them outside.”
“Why not?”
“We're not allowed outside.”
“Then ask a house elf to take them outside.” Thanks, Godiva. 
“I'm not going to let an house elf touch Bird!” 
Godiva looks at me, sighs, grabs her pixie and asks me where we're going. 
Willard is yelling at us that we can't leave and Godiva silences her one last
time. Luckily for us, Willard does not step a foot out of the dorm room. She
only soundlessly curses after us.

We end up in an empty room with a couple of love seat-like chairs and a
fireplace. We each claim one of those as our beds for the night. Morgana curls
up on top of me and it's finally blissfully quiet. 

In the morning we return to our dorm to change and grab whatever we may need for
the day. The other three are still sleeping and the room is half covered in
feathers. 

Godiva goes straight to the Great Hall while I step outside for Morgana. When I
enter the hall there are four people there apart from Godiva – Cepheus,
Eridanus, Nero and a girl I don't recognize. Apart from the unknown girl,
they're sitting in a group. I sit down next to Godiva. Eridanus and Nero ignore
me but Cepheus looks me over in disdain.
“So, I heard you're the muggle-born.”
Finally. Someone that gets it right the first time. I smile at him which he
seems to find disconcerting.
“Yup. That's me.” 
“You're awfully blasé about it.”
I snort. “You're a wizard.”
“Yes?”
“Well, you're awfully blasé about that.”
He stares at me and I roll my eyes. 
“Seriously, why do you people expect me to... I don't even know what you do
expect. I am muggle-born. There's nothing I can do about that. I didn't choose
it any more than you choose to be a wizard.”
He is really impressed by that. Not. 
“I told you she wasn't completely hopeless.”
Eridanus looks from his cousin to Nero in confusion. 
“Humph. We'll see.” And with that he dismisses me and returns to his
breakfast. Godiva sniggers but refrains from commenting. I sigh, it's too early
for this shit. 

I eat my breakfast in peace until the infirmary crew arrives and Merlin sits
down next to me. The second he's seated he starts talking a mile a minute. I
automatically tune him out, I don't even need to make strategic sounds as if I'm
listening, he talks on on his own. 

“Ms. Ollivander, Ms. Wulfric? A word please.” Godiva and I look at each
other and simultaneously sigh and make our way to Godric. 

“Yes, Professor?” 
“I heard you broke curfew.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Well... we repeatedly asked Aldreda and Aldith – Ms. Willard and Ms.
Peverell – to be quiet and for them to quieten their pets. They ignored
us.”
“We even suggested that they could ask an elf to take their birds outside
because Will-- eh, Ms. Willard said that their birds felt trapped and they
couldn't take them outside themselves since it was after curfew... They
declined.”
“So we found ourself a quiet place to sleep a corridor down from the
dorms.”
He sighs. “I see. The curfew is there for a reason, girls, but this time I'll
overlook it. Don't do it again.” He walks away muttering about needing an
owlery or something.

We both return to our seats... or at least we planned to but they are taken now.
By Willard and another girl that followed her around yesterday no less. What a
bitch. 

As a result we end up next to two of the younger students, one of which looks at
me in fear. Godiva rolls her eyes and I choose to ignore it for now. The second
boy is more courageous even if it takes him about five minutes.

“Y-you're the non-magical.”
I sigh. Not again. “No, I am not.”
He looks confused enough for me to take pity on him. “I am a witch. Ergo, I am
magical. But my parents weren't. I'm muggle-born.”
“But... but... muggle and magic don't mix.” I have to repress a snigger at
Godiva's murmured doesn't. 
I shrug. “I wouldn't know about that.”
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Take that up with Professor Gryffindor.”
“It's not natural.”
“Really?” I raise a brow. “And here I thought only muggles said that about
magic.”
He gasps and pales. Apparently that kid doesn't speak sarcasm. And now he thinks
I'm against magic. Great. I'm studying magic for crying out loud! I like magic.
Love it, even. 
The boy grabs his friend and drags him as far away as possible.
Thunk. I drop my head on the table.
“Godiva?”
“Yes?”
“Wake me when those idiots grow up.”
She laughs at me. Traitor.

Suddenly I miss my friends fiercely. I miss being able to talk freely. I miss
being understood without having to censor myself. I miss their brand of sarcasm
and cynicism. I miss... them. I miss the ranting about university. I miss the
afternoons spent cooking together. The times we've watched (and dissected)
movies. I miss... not having to navigate a virtual minefield. I miss being able
to be crazy and have it not matter because they can be just as crazy if not
more. I miss the hour long discussions about everything and nothing. 
Godiva is nice and Myrddin is a puppy but they're not... I miss Mona. I miss
Mimi – even if she'll kill me for being here. I miss my Green Carrot. I
miss... 
Merlin reminds me of the little brother I never had but he's not him either.
Even if I haven't seen Nick in ages, Merlin reminds me of him. Rather of the
little boy I grew up with until his family moved out of the flat beneath ours.
Ugh. Enough with the self-pity. It won't help me any. I shake my head and sigh.


“What do you think, which lesson's will we have today?”
Godiva blinks. “Hmm... Not sure. Arguably Charms and Duelling. Or maybe...
Well, it won't be Astronomy at this time of night and I doubt they'll teach us
Rune Magic before people have learnt how to read and write. No need to overwhelm
them with two sets of letters.”
I nod. “Makes sense. Though I somehow doubt we'll learn any duelling spells
yet... Then again, it's Go-, eh, Professor Gryffindor.” I should really stop
calling them by their first names in my head. It's gonna get awkward otherwise.
Especially with Rowena and Salazar. And.. damn, I did it again. 
Godiva's looking at me weirdly then shrugs. 

Godric announces that we'll have Duelling with him, the Second class will have
Charms with Helga and Third Class will have Latin with Salazar. 

Merlin attaches himself to my side again as we follow Godric outside. Godric
leads us to an empty field behind the school and tells us to run laps. Gah. I
hate running. Or jogging. Or most sports actually.

I am one of the five that immediately start. A couple of others follow us
hesitantly but the majority remains standing around, staring at Godric. I'm too
far away too hear them – running is surprisingly easy in this body – but I
guess they're asking him what good running would be. This being Duelling lessons
after all. Wizards. It seems that even in this time they rely too much on magic.


They start running by the time four of us five have already done one lap. It's
freaking weird being that fast and not being completely out of breath. My
stamina used to be pretty much non-existent, but now... Running almost comes
easily. I end up running alongside a boy of about eleven years of age. Not Mer--
dammit. Not Myrddin for a change. He was in the second group and after knowing
him for the last couple of days I am actually surprised that he hasn't tripped
over his own feet yet... Aaaand he's down. Apparently I spoke (or rather
thought) too early. How that boy managed to survive so far without breaking his
neck is a mystery. Even more a mystery, how does he turn into, well, Merlin?
He's such a klutz. 

WAH! I almost trip myself when something brushes my leg. Morgana has started to
run alongside me. They really need to find a solution for all the pets. I love
her, but that could've ended badly. And she isn't the only pet that decided to
accompany its owner. Somehow I doubt this is going to end well... A lot of
running and a bunch of predators... How much that at least one will think that
one of the students or their pets is its prey? 
Wizards really have no common sense.

I'm on my sixth lap when I hear growling and hissing somewhere behind me. I look
back and yep, there are two cats (kneazles?) attacking some sort of rodent. Oh,
no, correction. Two cats and a fox are attacking a rodent. Well, they pretty
much instantly killed it. Great. 

As if on cue a small girl who had a front row seat for that débâcle starts
crying. For a moment I contemplate turning around and jogging over but then I
just continue on and hope that someone else will take care of her. If no one has
by the time I pass her on my next lap, maybe then I'll do something.

Luckily by the time I pass them again, there are a couple of students clustered
around her and Godric is berating the owners of the other three pets. That are
currently fighting over and eating the rodent. Yuck. They could at least get the
poor girl away from there. At this rate she won't even have something to bury.

Godric tells us to keep running laps and to KEEP A TIGHT LEASH ON YOUR PETS!
Yeah, right, its not as if any of us actually has a leash or anything the like.
And then he drags those three remaining pets and the four owners inside the
castle. Great idea. Leave the rest without any supervision. Since you obviously
can't trust the students.

I sigh and grab Morgana. I will complete my laps while carrying her then. She is
not amused. Ouch. By the time she settles down and accepts being carried, my
entire arms are scratched. You're not a cat!

A few of the students with smaller pets had the same idea and so about half of
us are now running while carrying our pets. This is exhausting.

About ten minutes (fifteen? I have no clock, and guessing is seldom accurate)
and a literal cat fight – that was stopped by one of the Peverell twins
grabbing them both by their neck and spreading his arms so that they couldn't
reach each other any more – later, Godric returns. And he is angry.

He tells us to gather round and spends the next... I-don't-know-how-long yelling
at us about our pets. He's almost frothing at the mouth. I don't really
understand half of what he's saying but it makes most of the others cower so I
guess it's working. 

I'm a bit bored. Yelling isn't going to help any. Yeah, sure, getting yelled at
isn't exactly nice. At the very least it's uncomfortable.  At least I am
uncomfortable (and bored). But the yelling itself... They are children. Yes,
they'll be scared. Maybe. But that won't change anything. He can go on and on
yelling at them about it. They might regret it, might want to prevent it from
happening again, but they are children. Many of them are too young to think of a
workable solution themselves. Hell, quite a few of them are probably swamped at
caring for a pet in general. (They don't even manage to take them outside.) 
 
Oh, now they have to hand in an essay on what they should've done differently.
Seriously, Godric. They can't even write yet! Oh, he amends the punishment. They
have to think about it until tomorrow and give him at least three examples of
how they should've handled it. And the founders will set something up for where
to keep the animals during lessons, and how to watch them. But that doesn't mean
that they are relieved of their duty. They are still responsible for their pets
and their pets action – as are we all. 

He then sends us all back inside for lunch even though its too early. All the
others drudge into the great hall, I'm the only one that goes to take a shower,
well, a wash as far as I can tell. 

When I enter the hall for lunch its still early – I ask Bipp and he tells me
that it's still “two candle fulls” till lunch, whatever that might mean
exactly. Do they have hour candles? I sit down next to Mer... Myrddin. God, that
name thing is exhausting. He promptly asks me where I was and looks at me like
I'm an alien when I tell him that I got cleaned up. 

The hall is loud. Everyone is talking over each other. I should've gone to the
library instead. Ten minutes later, that's what I do. Luckily Myrddin is too
busy discussing the difference between cats and kneazles with the two kids on
his other side to catch it when I excuse myself for the library. I like Myrddin,
sure, but that doesn't mean that I want to expose the library to his klutziness
unnecessarily. He'd probably manage to burn it down or something. 

I call for an elf and ask them if someone could look after Morgana for me –
the elf nearly falls over its feet trying to ask (and not quite getting the
courage up to do it, so he's stuttering a whole lot) if he could introduce her
to the elflings. Elflings. As in Baby house elves. Suddenly I want to meet them
too. What do they look like? How old are they? How do they age? But not now,
probably. I give her permission (half expecting Morgana to return with a lot of
braids in her coat) and then enter the library and search for something to read.
I find an interesting potions text and settle down in that corner of the library
to read. 

I'm halfway through the introduction when someone enters the library – Rowena.
Err, I should probably call her Professor Ravenclaw in my head. Judging by how
well that works with Merlin/Myrddin, it's gonna take a while until it sticks.
She settles down near the entrance. 

By the time I start on the first chapter, someone else bursts into the library.

“GODRIC! What did I tell you about running in here?”
“We need to do something about those pets.”
Rowena's answering sigh is long-suffering. “In what way?”
“I don't know. I called the others here.”
“They have lessons!”
“Yes, and?”
“They are teaching.”
“We were.” Enter Helga, who doesn't seem happy about being called away from
her teaching.
“What did you do now, Godric?” Salazar sounds pretty resigned.
“I didn't do anything!”
“Godric.” Not sure if it was Helga or Rowena, but that sounded like the
crack of a whip. Scary.
“What? I didn't do anything. Some students couldn't control their pets and
they killed another.”
“THEY KILLED A STUDENT???” 
“No, they killed a pet. Relax.” Don't tell Helga to relax, she has every
right to react like that the way you said it... 
“What exactly happened.”
“They attacked and killed it, Salazar.”
“Details, Godric, details!”
“Three pets, a cat, a kneazle and a dog attacked a rodent. It died.”

I don't know about the cats but that was definitely a fox and not a dog.

“And you didn't do anything?!” Wow, Rowena can sound accusingly. It makes me
want to cower and apologize and she isn't even talking to me. 
“They were running laps, I was on the other end of the field.”
“You do realize that you have to keep an eye on them, right?” She somehow
manages to sound even more accusing.
“I did. I was too far away.”
“Whose pet died?” Of course it's Helga who actually remembers the students.
“Young Ms. Ash.”
“Ioanna, oh, that poor girl.” Yup, Helga mothers everyone. But I guess in
this case she's right.
“I told you, letting them bring pets was a bad idea. Most of them aren't
capable of looking after them. Especially the younger ones.”
“Salazar's right, you know.” Helga sighs. “I talked to the elves
yesterday, or rather they talked to me. They spent half their time cleaning the
hall ways because the students don't take their pets outside. At least most of
them don't. We need to establish a set of rules.”
“We need a solution for what to do with them during lessons anyway. I can't
teach potions with them running around. And I doubt they're not both endangering
and in danger during other lessons. We really need to fix up a system.”
“You're right. I thought we had, but if they attack each other like that, we
obviously can't put them all in the same room.”
“Speaking of the same room, we should arrange some kind of aviary. Two
students slept in an empty room next to the dorms last night instead of their
dorm, because their room mates' birds were  fighting...”
“They should've let the birds out.”
“Yes, well, it was after curfew and the others refused to let an elf take the
birds outside, Salazar.” 

Okay, now I feel really bad for listening to this. I mean, it was weird from the
beginning, but now that they're talking about us... 

“Then they should've called the elf themselves.”
“Maybe.” Rowena seems to be somewhere between annoyance and resignation.
“But that isn't the point. The point is, this can't go on.” I agree with
Helga (not that I'm part of the conversation... I really shouldn't be listening
to this).
“So... we'll build an aviary?”
“Well, it's not as if this castle doesn't have enough towers. And I could
probably charm the room to make the birds more docile, less likely to attack
each other. Godric can transfigure some perches. Salazar, some runes to bolster
the charms?”
“I could make a runic network to work in concurrence with your charms,
yes.”
“But that only covers owls and such. We still need to find a solution for the
rest.” Rowena reminds the others, “Obviously we can't put felines and
rodents into the same room...”
“We could let house elves watch them.”
“In theory sure, but even they aren't omnipotent, Godric. We can't put them
all on pet watching duty and with the amount of pets there are, we can't just
let one or two watch over them.”
“Well, they'd only have to look after the non-birds.”
Rowena sighs. “Still, the point remains. We have several cats, rodents, at
least one wolf, a fox, pixies – yes I know the Ollivander family knows how to
tame them – but... most of the animals here don't mix.” 
“The wolf isn't much of a problem, Honoria seems to have her well in hand”
Wait, what? “but the fox was involved in the death earlier.”
“Seriously Godric, what the heck is it with you and Wulfric?”
“Ms. Wulfric.”
“Yes, yes, Rowena. Ms. Wulfric then.” Okay, I really, really shouldn't be
here and listening to this.
“Honoria has nothing to do with what we're discussing right now, could we
please stay on topic?” Whoa,that's no little amount of venom in Helga's voice.

“So we need to set something up so that we can keep predators and their prey
separate.”
“Yes. But we can't really throw the predators together either.”
“A variation of the runes-charms network?”
“Wouldn't work. At least I doubt it would suffice.”
“But with the addition of guard elves?”
“Well, it could be a start.”
“But it only takes care of half the problem. While it's nice to know where to
put their pets during lessons, we still need to develop a stricter set of rules.
It obviously isn't enough to tell them that they're responsible for their pets
– to feed them, to watch them, to let them relieve themselves outside.” Why
did Salazar agree to become a teacher? He doesn't seem to like children at all.
And there's Helga to our rescue!
“Some of the older ones already do that, like Cepheus Black – and with him
his cousin – and Nero Selwyn. Honoria Wulfric. Sigurðr Fell.... The younger
ones don't seem to know that that's what they should do.”
“They don't really know when and what to feed them either.” 
“I wish their parents had taught them that.”
“They didn't. They probably figured their children had observed what they did,
only they didn't.” 
“They're children.”
“Yeah, and parents are blind to the faults of theirs.”
“Salazar...” Rowena's try at reprimanding him sounds rather resigned, as if
they'd had this, or at least a similar, discussion before, several times.
“So, rules. What rules? Take them out two or three times a day to let them do
their business? Feed them at breakfast and dinner? - Or not, as some of them eat
rather gruesome and it might kill some of the younger ones' appetite?
“Feed them before breakfast and after dinner? Take them outside, then feed
them.”
“I should probably start teaching them a vanishing or cleaning spell to get
rid of the waste early on.”
“True. After they learned enough that we can be sure they won't set anything
on fire instead.”
“They aren't that bad, surely?”
“I had to send three to Gabriel in my first lesson... Some are that bad.” 
“That was a first lesson, it's to be expected that they're worse.”
“I appreciate your optimism, Helga, but I don't think that's all it is. Let's
talk again, after you had your first Charms lesson.”
“I already did.”
“When you had them with all three classes.”
“Besides, you shouldn't have jumped in like that, Godric.” Rowena
interjects.
“But theory is boring.”
“It would've given them the basics.”
“And they'd have thought that Transfiguration is a boring class.”
“Godric! You---” Rowena is interrupted by a house elf popping up to tell
them it's time for lunch. 

Once I'm sure they are a secure distance away from the library I return my
potions text and make my way to the great hall – without Morgana, because when
I called the elf to return her, he asked (after I ordered him to ask his
question instead of stuttering around) if I would leave her with them for a bit,
because the elflings fell asleep on her (and she is sleeping as well). 

The hall is completely chaotic. I have no idea what the students did while they
waited for lunch, but they somehow managed get burn marks on the ceiling and the
pets were busy as well. 

I find a seat barely a second before Godric yells for silence. Contrary to the
announcement of the lessons however, it's Rowena who begins to speak.

“We have told you before that you are responsible for your pets. You have to
feed them, watch them, occupy them and clean up after them. Take them outside if
they need to go. Always keep an eye on them! If you don't, you will have to do
extra chores. 

“I don't know whose pets made this mess, so this time the elves will take care
of it. But this is the last time. From now on – Mr. SELWYN!! kindly keep your
snake from strangling your neighbour! – from now on you will clean up your
pets' messes. Take them outside so that they don't dirty the hallways, if they
do clean it up. Manually or ask an house elf for help – but that is only
acceptable until we taught you the necessary spells. NO trying spells out on
your own. You could behead your own pet by accident if you do it wrongly.”

Gods, Helga's expression is precious. I want a camera for this. The way she
looks when Rowena talks about beheading a pet... Hilarious. And kind of
justified. But hilarious nonetheless. 

Rowena goes on explaining what they're expected to do in caring for their pets
and some of the consequences (chores, detention, their pet being sent back to
their homes) if they don't do all that. 
She manages to put most students off their food. She's a bit graphic in her
warnings – well, not really graphic but she's very, very blunt.

I'm one of those still eating. I had no problems eating dinner and breakfast
during a Jurassic Park marathon (something me and my cousin did several times,
always planning to watch all three and ending up watching the third during
breakfast). Hearing about a decapitated pet isn't that off-putting after that.

At the end of her speech, lunch is over as well and we're lead to our classes
again. 
On the way there Merl-- dammit, Myrddin (am I ever going to learn?) is badgering
me about where I was. I lie and tell him that I went outside for a bit (Helga is
within hearing range).

Once we're seated Helga begins with a short introduction on what Charms actually
are (mainly not Transfigurations).

She gives a few examples and demonstrates them. Some variation of an Engorgio, a
colour changing charm, a Levioso which will be the first spell she'll teach us
and an Accio which we'll learn later on.

The Levioso is a simple levitation or rather hover charm. The object you
levitate hovers in the air but you can't move it. Laaaame. Why can't we learn a
proper Wingardium Leviosa? Oh, right, it probably hasn't been invented yet.
Meh.

She demonstrates the proper incantation (levi-O-so) and the wand movement if one
can call it that. One needs to tap the object one wants to levitate. 

“But be careful. The pronunciation is levi-O-so. You need to pronounce it
exactly like that. Mispronunciation can end deadly or at least in severe
injuries. It shouldn't happen with any of the spells you'll learn any time soon.
But keep in mind, Cornelius the Elder conjured an anvil on top of himself when
he drunkenly tried to light the candles in his bedroom. Cleopatra Malfoy III
accidentally killed her husband when she summoned a knife through him. Caligula
II blew up his mansion when he tried to lock the front door. 

“Small hiccups will always happen. It happens. Sometimes you don't pay enough
attention, sometimes you don't know the spell well enough. The wand movement is
just as important as the pronunciation. If you mess that up, your spell can have
unintended side effects.” (That could explain my blue Lumos?)

“It happens. Salazar – Professor Slytherin – once blew up a vial he wanted
to seal. I once accidentally turned my dagger red, when I summoned it. Stuff
like that will happen. Don't let yourself be discouraged by that. Take it as
motivation to do it right the next time. 

“However, that doesn't mean that you can slack off! Try to get it right the
first time. Most likely, that won't happen and you'll need a bit of practice,
but that's normal. Now. Put your wands away. I want you to practice the
pronunciation a couple of times before you try the spell for real.”

She walks around correcting the pronunciation of each of us before she lets us
pick up our wands again. She conjures balls of wool for us to practice on.

First thing I see – a couple of students pushed their balls off the table when
they try to tap it with their wand. (I managed to drag Merlin into the last row
this time.) Surprisingly, Merlin is not one of them. 

The pronunciation of the boy in front of me makes me wince. He did fine when he
didn't have a wand but with it he seems to be too nervous. 

Oh boy. I can't help but stare at the purple polka-dotted rabbit he managed to
summon?, conjure?, transfigure? Helga stares at the kid in amazement. Then she
smiles at him, congratulates him on that interesting piece of magic, and
corrects his pronunciation again. She exchanges the rabbit for a new ball of
wool.

“Levioso.”

Holy crap. My ball of wool hits the ceiling with enough force to leave an area
of impact – and it's still hovering there. Merlin yelps next to me which makes
some of the students turn – one of them almost poking their neighbour in the
eye. Helga stares for a moment before she asks whose ball of wool that is.
Merlin, the little traitor, points at me.

Her expression when she looks at me is intriguing even if I can't interpret it.
“I see. Can you cancel the spell?”

Eh. No idea. Technically shouldn't my shock about how powerful that levitation
was, have stopped it? I'm not really concentrating on making it hover any more,
you know? How would I even go about it? Lower my wand? It wasn't raised in the
beginning. A counter spell? I don't know any. A Finite? I don't now the -

Holy... It fell. Why? How? What did I do that worked? And why the hell is half
the class staring at me?? Practice your god-damn spells. Stop gawking at me! 

Helga tells the others to continue practising then she turns to me and tells me
to try again. 
My second try ends up like the first one. After the third one Helga tells me to
stop for now because she fears I'll  put a hole in the ceiling. How would that
even work? It's a ball of wool! … Then again, a ball of wool shouldn't have
made any impact in the ceiling. Magic is weird. Was it the force of the spell
instead of the object itself? It wasn't intention, certainly, for I had no
intention of doing any more than making that ball hover... Did I overpower the
spell? I didn't even try t put a quarter of the force in this spell than I did
in the transfiguration yesterday – not that I have any way to measure the
power put in a spell.

Why isn't Wingardium Leviosa invented yet? I managed that spell (somewhat). And
I can't even cheat – Helga still has half an eye on me and there's no way I
could disguise the wand movement for that charm as tapping the ball. 

But sitting around doing nothing is boring. I mean, I can't even write fan
fiction to pass the time, nor do I have something to read. Hell, I can't even
doodle. I can't... This is ridiculous. Seriously, that spell can't be that hard.


The only reason my next try doesn't hit the roof is that I cancel it a split
second after I cast it. (I'm not quite sure how, but I think it was some version
of a Finite). Still, the ball of wool was halfway up to the ceiling by the time
it drops down. Magic is scary. Cool and epic and awesome, but kinda scary too. 

It takes me a couple of more tries like that until I figure out how to kinda
control it. Kinda, because I want to levitate it by maybe five to ten
centimetres and it hovers a bit higher than at my eye height, but it's a start.

By the end of the lesson I somehow managed to levitate it properly although I
have no idea why or how exactly. It works but don't ask me for the mechanics of
it. (Wingardium Leviosa still would've been easier – and it has more uses.)

Due to our seats at the back, Myrddin (I got it! … this time) and I are one of
the last ones who leave the class room, scrap that we are the last ones, because
he almost fell over a chair. Helga leaves after us and she congratulates me on
my progress. Why? I completely fucked that spell up, how is that good?
Nonetheless I thank her and make my way outside (after retrieving Morgana). Once
she's done – and Myrddin's kitten as well – we go to dinner. 

In complete contrast to yesterday's dinner, the hall is practically buzzing of
noise. I sit next to Merlin and a boy I don't know and opposite Aldith. I can't
really understand what any of the three is saying. I've been to discos that have
been quieter. I think. I'm not much of a disco person. 

When dinner comes to a close – some are leaving, others are still eating and
I'm waiting for Merlin to finish – Nero Selwyn drops into the space left open
by Aldith' leaving. For some reason, his normally dark reddish brown hair is
black today. Well, I say normally, for all I know he could be a metamorphmagus,
I've only known him for what? Two days basically. Well, one really. 

“So, I heard you're good at charms?”
I shrug. “Depends on your definition of 'good'.”
“She can't be good. She's non-magic.”
Nero looks the boy next to me up and down pensively.
“You're a Fell, aren't you?”
“Yes, So?”
“Ah.” He sounds as if that would explain everything. Maybe it does – but
not to me. What does it matter if he's a Fell?
“Well, I'm think it'll be interesting to see how you turn out.” and with
that he leaves again. What was that about? 

Merlin just shrugs at me and asks if I want to go exploring for a bit – before
curfew and all that. I nod and follow him – even if I already explored the
castle a bit, I highly doubt that I found all there is to see and besides,
everything is better than having to spend time around Willard. Gods, I've been
here for how long now and there's already someone I really can't stand... and I
share a dorm room with her... yay.

Exploring the castle with Myrddin is interesting – and kind of dangerous. He
almost got himself skewered. Sure, the castle isn't as student-proofed as it
could be (and why should it) but he really takes the cake. Falling down the
stairs almost hitting a statues spear or halberd or whatever that thing is. He
is awesome at dodging mid-fall though. 

By the time we return to the dorms, I'm the one who's black-and-blue. I tried to
stop him from falling down another set of stairs and I took a tumble instead. At
least I managed to stop him though, if I failed at that, the whole thing
would've been even more embarrassing. 

And once I enter my room I immediately want to turn around again. Those two
rotten birds are still inside the room and fighting again. 

I want a four-poster like in canon (or is it only fanon?) where you can shut the
curtains and spell them silent. No curtains for us here. I wonder, would it be
any use to charm the pillow? I could put that over my head at least. 

Telling them to do something about their birds, I walk to my bed and drop down.
Ouch. I must've hit one of my bruises. Should I have gone to the infirmary?
Maybe but isn't it kinda ridiculous to run there for every little thing? Oh
well, too late now. I'm not leaving again. Wilburh is stuttering around –
she's probably also trying to tell them to settle down – and Aldith and
Willard are, judging by their faces, about to yell at each other again.
Brilliant. 

I could kiss Godiva. She walks in, takes one look at the scene and yells at the
two to stop it. If they don't, she'll call an adult. 

Now Willard is yapping at Godiva but at least the bloody birds are silenced and
Aldith takes hers to a window. Apparently Julius was mostly kept outside at her
home as well. He normally slept in a tree next to their house. 

Willard is still refusing to let Bird (how unimaginative is that name anyway?)
outside for the night. She doesn't even use the excuse of not letting a house
elf touch her owl, which is stupid anyway if you ask me, she flat out refuses.
Luckily that bloody owl settled down as soon as Julius was out of the room. 

It tried to screech at Morgana but her growling back put an end to that. Now
it's blissfully quiet... if you discount the fact that Willard is ranting at
Godiva and Wilburh and Godiva are changing at the moment. But at least it's not
as loud as it was. 

By the time Aldith is back, we're all settled down for bed – apart from
Willard but who cares about her.



                            Kapitel 9: Chapter Nine
                            -----------------------


The next morning I'm woken by Morgana who's licking my face – and clawing at
my arm. Ouch!! She manages to hit one of the bruises from yesterday – not a
nice wake-up-call at all. 

Blearily I change and make my way to the toilet and then I take Morgana outside
before heading to breakfast, where Godric announces that class one will have no
classes during the day but we'll have Astronomy at night. Class Two and Three
will have Latin/Writing and Potions respectively. Class One can use the day
however they want.

Cool. A free day – library here I come! 

By the time Myrddin reaches me, I only made it to the entrance hall. 
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Eh...” Inwardly I sigh. So much for the library then. I doubt I want to
subject the books to him – don't get me wrong, I like him, I just don't think
that the books (and scrolls) would survive him. “Well... the weather was nice,
so I figured I could spend some time outside?” the weather was nice? Really?
That's what I come up with? Ugh. Embarrassing. On the other hand, it's true,
it's cool outside and it's not raining. 

As expected, Merlin joins me. He really is like a puppy. For a while we just
stroll around while Morgana runs circles around us and he tells me about how one
of his dorm mates is a sleep walker and managed to scare the living daylights
out of another whose scream woke the rest of the room (and half of the adjacent
rooms).

Somehow that leads to him talking about the difference of the beds here compared
to what he's used to at home, the luxury that house elves are (he's right about
that one) how weird it is to share a room with four strangers – he's rooming
with Ioannes Ash (seriously? What were those parents thinking?!), Augustus
Selwyn (no idea who that is, the kid with the snake maybe?), Tenney Orchard and
Aquila Wildwood, the last two names meaning absolutely nothing to me. Except for
the Orchard kid, he's clearly expecting the names to do mean something to me,
but they don't. Muggle-born here. 

Oh, well, it's not as if Merlin expects me to answer in any way – he just
jumps to the next topic: homesickness. Not something he suffers (are you sure? I
think everyone here suffers from that a bit, even me) but one of his room-mates
is apparently crying every night. So? It's that poor kids right. Sure it may be
a bit annoying if you want to sleep, but really. That boy has probably never
been away from home for a night, and now he's at a castle with a million
strangers (gross exaggeration, I know, but still) and for a year. There's a
reason that Godric said that your house or your dorm or whichever will be your
family – the kids are going to need a surrogate family. Humph. Look at me
talking (well, metaphorically) – and here I am, almost having adopted Merlin
as a little brother after what?, a couple of days. I'm no better – even if I
don't miss my home as much as I expect most of the kids do. 

Actually I quite like it here, even if it's weird. I'm going to hate it again
soon, I know, but for now it's nice to have people around. Still, I'm normally
not a very social person – I don't really like crowds or most people in
general, but after living alone, it's a nice change for a bit. And in two weeks
at the latest, I'll be back to hating it and wanting my peace and quiet back.
Probably.

“---ink? Honoria?”
“Huh, sorry what?”
“I was asking you what you thought, but I guess you weren't paying
attention.”
I wince – Merlin really looks like a kicked puppy right now – and smile
apologetically.
“I'm sorry. I kind of drifted off. I was thinking that it's really different
here.” I shrug helplessly. 
He nods and brightens. “Yeah, I know, right?! It's weird.”
“Mhm. Yes. I can't really put my finger on it, but yes.” Well, I know why I
feel weird here, but those reasons (no electricity, no cars, magic, no internet)
aren't reasons that I can give him.

“How is it to know magic? As a...” He winces and stops, unsure on what to
say.
“As a muggle-born?” 
He nods.
“Well... I'm not sure how to describe it. It's amazing, obviously, and
incredible but also kind of scary? So much can go wrong... And I don't even know
the half of it” - I probably know more about it than he does, but no matter -
“and, I don't know... It's... disconcerting in a way. I... You know, I am new
to all this” - in theory at least (or should I rather say in practice in this
case?) - “but you guys... you all grew up with it. You're used to it. To you
it's like breathing – not casting magic or anything but the existence of it.
And I just... sometimes, I don't... I'm not sure how to say it, but... Look, I
don't remember much of my life before due to the accident” - lie, all lies. -
“but sometimes I can't help thinking that all this is just a dream. A
beautiful, mad dream, but just a dream. To you, it's simple reality. Not this
school, maybe, but magic and the fact that you're going to learn it at some
point. 

“I mean... It's.... amazing. And... well, not wrong, exactly, but... a part of
me keeps telling me that this is impossible. And then I remember all that I saw,
that I did and I just …. I feel as if this is the ma---” - okay, Matrix is a
bad analogy here, damn. - “I feel as if this isn't... Gods! I don't know. I
don't know how to explain it. It wouldn't make sense to you, it couldn't,
and...” I sigh and shake my head. “Sorry. I didn't mean to unload on you
like that.”
Myrddin shakes his head and smiles ruefully. “I don't mind.”
“Thanks. Well, yeah. In short, it's amazing but still kind of
unbelievable.”
He nods. “I know what you mean. Not exactly of course, but the general
feeling. I also still can't really believe that I'm here. I'm not much of a
wizard after all.” 

Eh. Right. Not much of a wizard... I sigh and shake my head. “You are a
wizard. End of story.”
“But.--”
“No. You are a wizard. You just don't know where your strength lies yet but
that doesn't mean anything. If you judge a fish by his ability to climb a
tree...”
“Huh?”
“Oh, it's a weird muggle saying. A quote from someone I think. You can't judge
everyone by the same one characteristic your judgement will be biased and
crooked.” Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying all that shit... He just
reminds me so much of Neville and if I consider that he's Merlin... Let's be
hypocritical and repeat empty nonsense I've heard or read somewhere and hate
because it's useless and doesn't change anything. No matter how epic you are at
something else, if you suck at something, you suck at it and that's it. Oh,
well. Apparently that psyche crap works on Merlin though, he's smiling again.
Ah, the naivety of youth. 

We pass some kids from our class that are playing some sort of ball game. To me
it looks like a mash-up between soccer and hand ball – I can see no rhyme or
reason to their moves but they are definitely having fun. Merlin asks me if I
want to join – I don't – and I tell him to go ahead.

I settle down to watch them and cuddle with Morgana for a bit. At some point I
stop paying attention to the game and concentrate on stroking her back and
scratching her ears. 

Suddenly I hear some (panicked) yelling and look up only to see the ball headed
straight for my face. For a split second I panic and think about dodging, but I
am frozen and it wouldn't really work anyway considering that I am sitting down
and Morgana is half-draped across my lap. Isn't there a spell? Something about
stopping movement like Dumbledore or someone did to Harry? A.... Arr... ARRESTO
MO--- 

My panicked try at a spell or is it even a spell and not just accidental magic?,
hits the ball a bit too late to really do anything, but it does slow it down a
bit, does it? I'm not sure – my nose or rather my whole face hurts but I don't
think that anything is broken. 

One of the kids – a boy of about twelve I think – jogs over. 
“I'm so sorry, are you okay?"
I nod, dazed. (At least I think I nod.)
He looks at me sharply and shakes his head."I'm taking you to the infirmary."
Merlin skids to a stop next to him but the boy just tells him that it was his
fault after all and for Merlin to keep playing. I nod along. I don't think I
need any help to get there so there's no need for him to leave here. And if
someone has to accompany me to ease their conscience or whatever, it should be
the one responsible (unless it wasn't an accident. Then that would be a bad
idea.)

The boy extends his hand towards me to help me up, I guess, yelps and jumps
back. Why? Oh, Morgana snapped at him. And she's growling. Why didn't I hear
that? I stroke her back and scratch her ears to calm her down. The boy warily
approaches us again and helps me up. 

Whoa. Okay, maybe it's not such a bad idea to have some help. Dimly I wonder if
I have a concussion, everything is tumbling and turning and for a few seconds I
can't see straight. He grips my arm to stabilize me. 

"Careful." 
After a moment I give a short nod - I don't dare to do more than that. 
"It's okay. That was just a bit too fast."
He just nods and carefully leads me back to the castle. I think he's apologizing
again, but my ears feel a bit woolly. Oh, that was an introduction just now, but
I missed his name - I got 'Belenos' but that's a song, not a name, right?

"What? I'm not singing." Why does he sound panicked? 

I shake my head to clear it and to get rid of the muffled feeling. For a second,
it works and I see clearly - when did we get inside? - and then I double over
and vomit.

Why is he babbling? Can't he let me have my indignity in peace? Oh, it's not
him, that was me apologizing for the mess. He looks really worried now.

Bipp pops up - why? - and asks how he can help, takes a look at us and vanishes
the vomit. An instant later we're at the library, or we must be, I think. My
knees buckle from the displacement and I see green hair when I look up to
whoever caught me. 

Healer Gabriel brings me to one of the beds and sets me down, helps me up, I'm
not quite sure, he places me on it. Scolding both the boy and Bipp about
something (why is he scolding them? Or is he scolding me? I don't know), he
grabs what must be potions vials.

He forces two or three down my throat, making me gag (did I vomit again?), and
then hits me with a spell.

Whatever the Healer is doing works. My head clears (mostly) and the ache
recedes. It's not gone, far from it, but at least now I can think again. Once he
sees that I'm relatively clear again, he asks me what in the world I was doing
and slaps some cream on the bruises from yesterday.

He tells me that I have to stay here for a couple of hours. I'm allowed to talk
- he expects the boy to keep me company since he brought me here - but I'm not
to move (or to move as little as possible.) And even after I leave, I better
take it easy.

Awkward silence fills the infirmary after the Healer disappears into his office.
After a while, when I can't stand it anymore, I apologize for missing it earlier
and ask for his name. He laughs.

"Don't worry; you were pretty out of it. I'm Belenos Taranir, but most people
call me Leno." Judging by his voice, he doesn't like that nickname. 

"Nice to meet you, Belenos. I'm Honoria Wulfric."
"The muggle-born?"
"Yes." Could you people stop reducing me to that? I'm a person. Then again, it's
pretty much what I'd expect. 
He just grins. "My gran was muggle-born." Then he gets serious again. "Gramps
had to save her from getting drowned for being a child of Lucifer - it's how
they met. Did something like that ever happen to you and who is Lucifer?"
I can't help but stare at him for a bit. "Well, no. I don't think. Nothing as
drastic. But then, as far as I remember, my magic hasn't really been apparent."
What a nice way to say that I didn't have any magic before I came here. "And
Lucifer... Do you know what a devil is? Or Satan?"
He shakes his head.
"You know how many muggles are Christians? As in, they believe in one god?"
He hesitatingly nods. That's probably a no then.
"Well, they believe that this one god created life, the plan--, eh, the world.
That god is supposedly inherently good. And peace loving.... Anyway, Lucifer is
a fallen angel of the Lord, meaning he was one of that god's enforcers when he
turned evil and supposedly seduced humanity into evil, making them fall from
grace. Anyway, someone called a child of Lucifer would be someone they consider
evil - having sold their soul - their essence of life even after death or
something - to the devil , Lucifer, and being able to use the craft of the
devil: magic. Just to make it clear - I do not agree with any of that. That is
not what I believe in. I do not think that magic is bad or any of that rot.
Eh... Right, Lucifer is almost considered some sort of anti-god." 
"I see. You really don't agree with them, do you?"
"Yes, well, I can do magic and I certainly haven't sold my soul for it."
He laughs. "I see your point. But I guess now I understand why gran never talked
about it. That is awful."
Yes, well, you don't know the half of it. Witch hunts weren't pretty... but I
better not mention that to a twelve, maybe thirteen year old.
"So how do you find school so far? As a wizard? How is it different? "
"Well, there are lots and lots of people that I don't know. Of course, with how
close-knit the magical community can be, I have seen quite a few of them before.
On one of the biannual meets for example. Or on one of the four markets. They're
not, well, people don't have to go there, but most families try to at least go
to two each year." Interesting tidbit of information and it's nice that he
actually explains.
"School is very different. I have never been around so many people at the same
time - especially not for that long. It's strange to share a room with
strangers. I'm an only child and I had a small chamber to myself once I was old
enough not to sleep in my parents’ room any more. One of my new roommates
snores and another talks in his sleep."
"Luckily so far no one in my room does that, but I had to contend with fighting
birds..."
He laughs. "Yeah, the whole pet situation is a bit out of control."
"Just a tad. Well, they're working on it. It's only natural that there will be
hiccups in the beginning."
"Probably. You don't seem surprised."
"Eh. Well, I had no idea what to expect here, so there are no expectations they
can or cannot meet. I think that makes it easier." Pfft, as if. I probably have
more expectations due to the books than any other student here. Then again, I
also know that a millennia is a long time and so many things will be different.
Besides, (most) rules exist for a reason and have a story behind them and in
Harry's time, people are only allowed to bring a toad, an owl or a cat. I always
wanted to know the story behind that - I guess I can now imagine at least part
of it. 

"Why do you people think that it's so important that I'm muggle-born?" I am
curious about that. Sure, I get the general reasons, but I'm interested in how
they differ to the ones in the 1970s and 1990s, or, well, in the 20th century in
general. Besides, I want to know Slytherin's reasons for disliking them because
I highly doubt the others would be such good friends with him if it was for no
reason at all.

"Huh?" He hesitates for a bit but in the end he decides to answer. "Well, many
reasons I guess. I'm not sure. Some of them had some run-ins with muggles, or
rather their families did. A few were witness to scorn for believing that magic
was real, I think. Actually I have no idea what it might've been about... They
did get scorn though. And, well, I don't know if it's true or not, but I heard
that grandmother Fell was killed for being a witch - and they say that the one
that killed her was executed for killing a witch because witches do not exist.
It makes no sense."
"Yes, well, religious prejudice never really does. Magic is supposedly a
superstition.... Heck, I don't know. The bible - their religious book - is
against witches at any rate." The Old Testament is against many things actually.

"But why?"
"Because what they'd consider magic is the power of God and cannot be wielded by
mere humans?"
"You keep saying they, is it not your believe as well? I know you pointed out
why you think that magic isn't evil, but..."
"Ah... eh, I'm heathen? A pagan? Well, at least I believe in the old gods more
than I do in God." Not really.... what am I supposed to say here? How to explain
why I think that historic Christianity's take on some things was... basically
bullshit and nothing but a grab for power? Nothing wrong with Christianity per
se, just a lot of people who interpret it to their own advantage, especially in
positions of power. That's what happens if any religion is turned into an
instrument of state (and power). 
"The old gods?"
"I think my parents believed in them." No, they most definitely do not. But it's
probably a good idea to distance myself from Christianity or rather from the
reason of hostility against magic and magic users. Let them think I'm a pagan,
my religion is undefined as it is. No need to explain it to a kid that is
probably lacking half the vocabulary to understand what I'm explaining if I even
found the words for it.

Luckily for me, the healer returns before I have to say anything more and
declares me fit enough to leave. Annoyingly he also announces that lunch is long
over by now - gee, thanks.

Belenos and I head to the kitchens. On the way he apologises again for hitting
me in the face with a ball, and I tell him not to worry about it. Even if
getting what must've been a concussion isn't how imagined my morning to go. In
all honesty, I really could've done without it. But I got to say, I love
potions. If that really was a concussion they took care of it a lot faster than
I ever thought possible. 

Of the elves I can see in the kitchens, I only know Bipp and Pannia. Bipp is the
one who pops over and asks if we want some food. I ask him for some picnic food
- my mistake - and then I have to explain that I mean food that can easily be
eaten outside, sitting on the grass. In the end we get a basket (because of my
explanation of 'picnic') with some berries, a couple of buns, something like ham
and two pouches of juice.

We head outside and settle down near the lake. It takes maybe five minutes until
our food and especially our drinks are hijacked by the ballgame players (How can
they still be at it?? It's been hours, shouldn't they be dead on their feet?!).
Most of them don't seem to care much about how I am after the episode earlier.
Merlin asks me about it, and two look a bit worried until I tell them that I'm
fine now. Another kid actually looks disappointed at that. Giving me all the
fuzzy feelings here.... 

After laying waste to our provisions, they resume their game. Sighing, I tell
Belenos to join them and then return the basket to the kitchens. 

Once I am back out with the kids Merlin tries to rope me into participating this
time. I manage to refuse citing the earlier accident (the one kid from earlier
looks as if he'd want to enact a repeat of that) and that I'm supposed to take
it easy today.

After a while - and a ball that does fly in my direction and gets mauled by
Morgana - I tell them that I'll go back inside. At the question why I tell them
that I need the toilet. I don't but watching them is becoming boring and
besides, I want my library. (Not to mention that watching them seems to be
dangerous.)

Again, I am thwarted. I almost make it past the entrance hall when I hear Helga
call my name and so I turn around to walk towards her.
"Yes, Professor?"
"I would like to talk to you, if you would follow me." I nod, really what choice
do I have?, and follow her. I'm not sure how I’m supposed to take her singling
me out like this, I'm not even in her house...

She leads me to her quarters and tells me to sit down. She grabs a water pouch
and two cups and sits down opposite me.

"Tell me, how are you settling in?"
"I, um, fine? I guess."
"How are your fellow students?"
"Eh" what am I supposed to say? "They are quite nice mostly, even if they're a
bit confused by me being, well, muggle-born."
"But they're treating you all right?"
I shrug. "Yes. Some seem a bit wary, but they're all right?" I know, she means
well, but I am not going to go crying to her over nothing. It's not as if
anything happened, nor has anyone really said something. I had worse.
"Good, good. And other than that?"
"Um, classes are interesting?"
"Can you keep up?"
"Mostly? Transfiguration and Charms are okay, I guess, and I'm glad that we're
learning how to read and write - even if I have learned it before - before we
learn Latin. I never had much cause to write, so, while I know the letters I
have no real practice. Being able to take notes would've been nice in Potions,
though."
"To take notes?"
"Yes, well, writing down what Professor Ravenclaw teaches us, you know. It was a
bit much crammed into one lesson."
She has a contemplative look on her face and doesn't answer for a moment.
"Did you go to a school before?"
"What?!" I stare at her in disbelief. 
"Well, you're adjusting really well, you don't seem intimidated by the amount of
students. You actually seem used to it. You seem to take the way a class works
for granted," huh? "And you... you react different to the other students. You
seem used to paying attention for such a long duration."

Eh... crap. What, how, damn. Should I lie? Should I try to twist the truth?
"I don't think there are any, well, muggle schools. And even if there were, I'm
female... I probably wouldn't have been allowed to attend."
She judges me for a moment (I don't know how else to describe it).
"Hm. True, I assume." Assuming makes an... oh, nevermind. It's probably better
if she buys that excuse. I'm lucky that it's Helga who's confronting me. Rowena
and Salazar would've recognised the diversion as such.

"The other reason why I wanted to talk to you was what happened in the Charms
lesson." Uh oh.
"I'd like for you to try and levitate this." She places a quill in front of me.
I hesitate, but she just sends me an encouraging smile.
"Levioso." I tap the quill and it shoots upwards as if it was powered by
rockets.
She tells me to drop the spell and try again. After a couple of tries I manage
to control the height again, even if I can't control the speed with which it
reaches that height. Helga hums, and gives me a couple of other things to
levitate - a scroll (oh my god, please don't let me harm it!), a cup, a chair
and a pillow. I don't dare to levitate the scroll with that spell, but the other
objects work pretty well.
She doesn't look happy that I ignore the scroll but let's it pass.
"Godric mentioned, that you hit yourself in the head when you summoned a stone
in his lesson. Did you use a spell for that?"
Well, I used Accio but I can't exactly tell her that, so I shake my head.
"Oh, interesting. I figured, you came across a spell in the library" - damn,
that would've been the perfect excuse and even halfway true, I did read it in a
book after all, just not the kind of book she'd expect. - "no matter, summon the
scroll to you."
"Eh?"
"Go on, try."
"But..."
"Just try it."
Alright then.... I'm not really sure how I managed to summon the stone
non-verbally, but let's try again, shall we? Do I just concentrate on the spell?
After that lie just now, I can't say a spell out loud after all... Damn, I hate
lying and this web of lies especially. Hm... Accio? No. I probably shouldn't ask
a spell, not even in my mind. Well, concentrate, Honoria. Right, concentrate on
that. Concentrate on being Honoria. You can do magic, you can do that spell as
well. Accio.

Holy shit! I barely manage to grab the scroll out of the air before it hits my
face. Still a bit overpowered, I guess, but better than the Levioso stuff.
"Good. Now summon the pillow."
This time I duck to avoid getting hit and it drops to the ground right behind
me.
"Hm. You're a natural but you need to learn some control since you have no prior
experience with magic. Meditating should help with getting more in tune with
your magic. I'll ask Salazar to teach you how to meditate."
What? I pale. She can't be serious, can she? I will die. He'll kill me. I mean,
really, he can't stand me and you want to force him to spent time with me? Bad
enough that I'm in his class, you want him to give me one on one lessons? He
ain't Snape and I'm no Harry. 
"Are you alright? You seem scared. There's no need to."
"Well, he doesn't seem to like me."
"Don't be ridiculous. You're in his house." Yes, and muggle-born and therefore
an embarrassment or something. What do I know. 
"That actually surprised me, I would've expected you to end up in Rowena's house
with the amount of time you spent in her library." ... Where I would much rather
be instead of having this conversation.
"I guess Maverick had his reasons."
"Who?"
"That sorting hat."
She stares at me.
"I gave him that name. It was to strange to talk to a nameless object."
"Seriously, how did you end up as one of Salazar's?"
I shrug. It's not like I can really explain that. I just know that the hat was
right, I am a Slytherin. I have a bracelet and everything. Actually, I had. It's
somewhere back home I guess... Meh.
"I can't see in his head... but I'm pretty sure he has a reason."
"It's a magical object..."
"True, but 'it' sounds strange and he felt more like a male than a female..."
okay, now she seems to think I'm crazy. Oh, well. Actually... that is something
I can actually explain with my 'muggle origins'. 
"I'm not used to talking to or whatever it is called in this case, well, talking
magical objects. If I talk to someone, even if it's a pet, it is either male or
female..." Not really true, I talk to my computer more than to a pet (I don't
have a pet) and as far as I know my computer has no gender... No matter, it
works on Helga: she nods in understanding. 

"That is understandable. It must be disconcerting."
"It is. But it's also really interesting." I mean, think about it for a second.
How can an object be cognitive? Or sentient? I get the whole horcrux stuff, but
the hat.... Wait, did they infuse it with their souls or something???
Helga smiles. "I'm glad you feel that way. I was worried." Helga is mothering
again. I'm a twenty-three year old woman, I don't need mothering... But it is
nice to know someone cares.
"It's too bad you're not in my house. You really have a natural talent in
Charms." in destroying ceilings, maybe.
"No need to look like that, I told you, you just need more practice. After all,
you only started using magic a week ago. And despite that, you are the one that
shows the most promise. You definitely have the potential to become a Charms
mistress one day."  

Wait, what?? Are you insane? Hold your horses! Even if you're right, and I do
show some promise which I seriously doubt (hello? Ceiling!) isn't it a bit much
to talk about mastering stuff? I had one lesson. One! And I have no idea what or
how I am doing... I mean, sure it would be epic. In a way. After all, a week ago
I did not have any magic. And now I actually have not magic in general but a
talent for a particular kind? And Charms! (Does that mean that I have a chance
at performing a patronus? Please, please, please!) That is so awesome! If Helga
is right and not either mistaken or pulling my leg... But it's Helga Hufflepuff
and she wouldn't do something that mean, right? Which would mean that she's
serious. And she is a Charms Mistress or something, isn't she? Holy crap. 

"But if you want to manage that, you will need to put in some hard work."

Are you kidding me? This is magic you're talking about! Fucking real-life,
non-fantasy magic. Of course I am going to work hard! Everything else would
basically be blasphemous! It's Harry-Potter-style magic, for fucks sake! Bloody
hell, that is something every child I knew growing up wanted. Am I supposed to
throw this away?! 
Okay, calm down, Honoria. You have no cause to be indignant. She doesn't know.
I grimace. "Having magic is a privilege. It's worth the hard work. At least to
me, I don't know about the students that take it for granted." Yikes, that so
doesn't sound like something I'd normally say... well, twenty-three me, maybe,
but thirteen year old me? Definitely not. That's not exactly something I'd have
thought about...
"Good. I look forward to see how you progress with Salazar's help."
Ugh, did she have to remind me of my impending doom? 

And then, another cup of water, two actually since Morgana jumped on my lap in
the middle of our talk and knocked my cup over, and a couple of follow-up
questions about how I'm settling in, she sends me off to dinner.




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