A girl's best friend

[okashihime]

The sound was like a gunshot.

Taylor startled into a painful jerk that was half reflexive fright jump, half aborted dodge roll out of her bed. She looked left and right around the messy, pastel colored room, certain that there was a sharply dressed woman just around the corner holding a gun pointed at her.

Blossoming panic died when the book she'd been reading smacked her painfully atop of the head. Somehow, in the fright, it had gone airborne.

She grumbled and scratched the painful spot on top of her crown.

There wasn't much time to think about flying vengeful books, because a few houses down the lane, where the gunshot-like sound came from, there was someone where once there was none.

A strange woman showed up at missus Anderson's house two houses down from Taylor's own.

Taylor picked up the book and placed it on the bed stool. She'd just started a new book called The Eye of the World and was loath to stop a good story, but this took precedence. On the balls of her feet, she slunk towards the small window — eyes already on the woman — and opened the curtains a smidge to look with her own eyes, just to make sure she wasn't going crazy.

The woman, old and serious, wore clothes that looked older than mum's grandma's in the pictures. Her hair was tied in a severe bun, and her face was set on a disapproving frown. The whole ensemble was topped off with glasses that had small oval lenses perched on the bridge of her nose while she read something from a paper. The newcomer looked from the paper to Miss Anderson's address, then left and right. With a small shake of the head, she turned toward Taylor's house and marched with determined steps.

Rand's adventures forgotten, Taylor kept her many eyes firmly on the new arrival, until she stopped in front of her house. One last look at the paper, a bony finger extended in what looked like condemnation and the doorbell rang in the room downstairs.

Taylor moved toward her bedroom door, turned about, walked two steps back to her bed, picked up her book, and stopped. Another about face took her toward the door once more and it was everything Taylor could do to not sneak a few fliers inside the house to listen to the conversation downstairs. She'd promised her mum she wouldn't spy on the house and keep it bug free.

Who was the woman? How had she just appeared out of nowhere? Did she have superpowers too?

"Taylor, sweetie, there's someone here to see you."

Mum's voice called from below. She didn't sound scared, or distressed, she sounded resigned.

Not to let an opportunity pass, Taylor stowed the book in the nearest available place then dashed downstairs to meet the newcomer. She spared a small glance toward the visitor, confirming that yes, it was still the same woman from outside, before she hugged her mother, shying away from the stranger in the room.

"Mum."

Annette, Taylor's mother, rolled her eyes in a very fond gesture, then tousled Taylor's mane of blonde curls. "Still on your pj's?"

Taylor blinked owlishly, the stranger forgot, then looked down at her own clothes. Pastel pink Care Bears pj's. She hid her face against her mum's shirt, mumbling and believing the world outside didn't exist.

"Sweetie, it's rude to ignore our guest, more so when they're here to see you."

Pretending her face and ears weren't burning, and the irresistible desire to run back to her room and hide under the covers wasn't there, Taylor turned and greeted the newcomer. "Hullo."

"Good morning, Miss Hebert. I'm Minerva McGonagall, a professor at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A boarding school your father attended as a young man."

Taylor's eyes grew wider the more the woman spoke. Wizardry? She knew magic was real, she had magic herself, but dad had it too? Mum never talked about him, he'd died before Taylor was even born.

"You've inherited his gift," McGonagall said without giving Taylor the chance to sort her thoughts. The visitor reached into the interior of her travelling robes and produced a letter, the same paper Taylor had seen her reading outside the house. "This is your formal letter of acceptance to Hogwarts. School terms begin in September, with students of your own age."

The envelope was cream-coloured, sealed in red wax, bearing a familiar crest, one she had seen among dad's old stuff.

"Inside, you'll also find a list of necessary books and materials for your first year." McGonagall dug into another pocket of her robes, then took out a strange metal key. She presented the key to mum. "Here's your husband Gringotts key."

The air had grown heavy and uncomfortable by that point. Mum took the key. She didn't look happy, she looked angry, like that time Taylor set up a colony of ants to bite the shins of that bully at school.

"Thank you."

"I understand, Mrs. Hebert, that our world has not been without its costs to your family. That is not a small thing and I'll not pretend otherwise." McGonagall's voice was firm, but not without feelings. "But Hogwarts was also where your husband learned who he was, it was where he made friends who still remember him."

There was a tense moment of silence, before McGonagall looked at Taylor, then Annette.

"The choice, ultimately, belongs to you and your daughter."

McGonagall didn't stay long after delivering her message, she bade both farewell and left.

Taylor kept track of the woman until she disappeared with another gunshot-like sound. Teleportation superpower was wicked.

---

For the rest of the day, mum was in one of her somber moods. Predictably, she kissed the top of Taylor's head, then shoo'ed her off back to her room. Taylor knew by now there was no talking when mum was like that. Mum would be better in the evening. She always was.

That didn't dispel the many questions Taylor had. She'd known magic existed since forever. She had her own superpower like those American comic books, but she thought she was the only one. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. Mum never seemed weirded out by the insects, aside from that one day they didn't talk about, and mum was a great help in helping Taylor keep her secret.

Superpowers weren't something normal people liked or believed. She'd learned that the hard way.

But all that was in the past, Taylor had a new mystery in hand. The envelope was addressed specifically to her.

Miss T.A. Hebert. The Small Bedroom, Second Floor, 23 Dunmore Street, Woolwich, London.

How did these people know which room in the house was her bedroom? Intrigued, Taylor broke the seal and read the contents. The first page was just a formal introduction and invitation.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)​

Dear Miss Hebert.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.



Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.



The second page was where things got strange.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY​

UNIFORM

First-years students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black).
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear.
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar).
4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings).

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.



SET BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Books of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk.

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot.

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling.

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch.

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore.

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger.

The Secrets of the Stars by Magnolia Maguffin.

Magical Me (autobiography) by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart.



OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK.



Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions



Who the heck was this Gilderoy Lockhart and why did he have eight books for the first year? More importantly, why did all the book names read more like fantasy books? The others in the list Taylor could see being part of a magical education, but Lockhart's didn't seem to. There was even an autobiography there. Was this guy some super important magical hero they had to learn about?

The other parts of the letter were also interesting. Robes and equipment. Cauldron and pointy hat. At this point, Taylor was almost sure this wasn't a prank. It was too elaborated to be one. And what about an Owl? By context clues, it looked like mail of some sort, but where would Taylor find an owl of her own that knew how to deliver mail? More importantly, where would they find money to buy all this stuff?

 

[okashihime]

Mum wasn't keen on telling the whole story. Later that day, both sat in the living room with mum nursing a mug of hot-something while Taylor sipped her mug of hot-cocoa.

"Your father," mum started in a small voice. "died fighting in a war against an evil wizard."

War? What war was mum talking about? Taylor didn't remember any recent war happening, but now also didn't seem to be the correct time to ask more questions. She'd wait until mum's mood shifted to ask about the war.

Taylor had known her father's death hadn't been some accident even if mum never talked about it. The freedom fighter or rebel part was the interesting bit, but in the end, it didn't make much of a difference. She'd never known the man, even resented him a little for making her mother sad. There were no pictures of her dad in the house. Mum didn't talk about him or his family. Taylor had no real attachment to him, unlike her mother; he was just someone that died years ago.

"He was a wizard. Disowned by his family for marrying a muggle."

There was a hint of distaste when mum said the word. A long stretch of silence followed. Taylor thought mum was going to say more, but she picked up the strange key, then placed it on Taylor's hand.

"Don't lose it," she said. "Non-magicals like me can't wander in magical Britain because of the notice-me-not magic, and magicals are an insular people. It's one of the reasons we had no contact with that side of your father's life."

The situation was a lot more complicated than that, Taylor later realised. Without magic, mum wasn't able to reach the correct places or people to even get news about dad or what happened to him. Nor his will or inheritance or anything. They survived by mum selling a few of dad's old stuff and coins they had at hand for initial cash to open her own business.

"But enough of that," mum said after a big sip of her beverage. "Have you considered if you want to join the school? Don't let me muddy your decision. Your father was always fond of the place and friends he made there, even after the war broke out…"

Taylor was intrigued by the opportunity, but also knew that leaving for a boarding school was difficult. "Won't you be alone?"

Mum smiled and pulled Taylor into a bear hug. "Don't you mind that, sweetie. If you feel homesick, you can always write to me. Everyday if need be."

Dart. Mum never missed anything.

"I want to go," Taylor admitted after stealthily wiping a few tears away.

"We'll have to visit Diagon Alley and retrieve money from your Gringotts vault. We should be able to buy everything in your list there."

"Diagon Alley?"

Mum pinched Taylor's cheeks, smiling a pleased smile. "We'll go there this weekend. You'll love the magic."

---

Magic was wicked cool.

It started with a grubby little pub that would be easy to miss if not for the many bugs inside. Bugs Taylor had never felt or seen before.

Even before Taylor had fully processed what she was feeling, her superpower brushed against something wrong inside the pub, wrong in the best possible way. Spiders unlike any she had ever felt, their webs humming with a faint resonance that made her teeth ache pleasantly. They were bigger than they should have been, tucked into rafters and corners. The mosquitoes were worse in the best way: some bloodsuckers almost an inch long. Then there were things she had no name for: small, quick, winged, vaguely humanoid in a way that made her power do a double take. Bugs were not supposed to have faces. Some flitted with chaotic energy, crashing into walls and rebounding without apparent concern. Others, smaller and meaner, hovered with something like intent.

"You'll have to lead me there," mum said after a while observing the street. "Your dad told me once there's magic that keeps non-magicals away."

Wrenching her attention from the new bugs, she paid attention to the pub. It was dark and shabby, wedged between a bookshop and a record store on a busy London street. Her mum couldn't see it. Taylor hadn't believed it at first. The Leaky Cauldron even had one of those wooden plaques outside with the name exposed to elements, but a few minutes of observation was enough to clear things.

None of the non-magicals looked in the pub's direction. The only ones who did, and entered or left the place, were those weirdly dressed in strange clothing in strange colors and styles, like the deputy headmistress. Taylor was starting to believe that dressing unfashionably was a requirement to be a magical person; there was no reason otherwise to wear pointy witch hats like the fantasy stories.

Holding her mum's hand, Taylor dragged both into the pub.

Inside, it was dingy and low-ceilinged, full of old wooden furniture and the smell of something cooking, crowded with magic people in various states of eccentricity, nursing drinks, eating meals, or just talking. The barman was ancient and toothless and greeted both as soon as they entered.

"Annie, it's been years! It's a shame what happened to Danny. Those were dark times."

"Tom," mum said, inclining her head, but her voice was dry and formal.

Tom's eyes moved from mum to Taylor. Her skin crawled at the attention.

"It's time for the squirt to go to Hogwarts?"

That drew attention from the pub's patrons, but one good look and interest vanished.

"Yes." Mum said in a tight voice. "I'll need you to open the passage for us, if that isn't a problem."

"None whatsoever," Tom said and walked from behind the bar. "Follow."

Mum did so, pulling Taylor by the hand. It was good that she did, because Taylor was mostly lost to the world at this point. There were so many new bugs to feel and see.

"Now, pay attention," Tom said, pulling up a stick from his coat. "You need to hit the proper bricks to open the wall." He tapped a few stone bricks in sequence. The bricks quivered and wiggled. In the middle of the wall a small hole appeared, it grew and grew, into an archway on to a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight.

On the other side was controlled chaos.

A shop nearby had stacks of cauldrons outside with information signs hanging above them. Down the street, an apothecary displayed the strangest of ingredients. Another shop had hooting owls, cats, rats and even toads. Taylor's senses expanded, seeing with a thousand new eyes from a thousand different new bugs skittering and scurrying in corners and out of sight and under tables and over roofs and between walls and under the cobblestone.

Inside a bookstore further down the street, a huge gathering of people surrounded a posh looking man smiling with pearly white teeth and signing books. At another, a clothing store, groups of people, one full of red hair and another with almost white blond hair came to blows over spilled school supplies. Deeper inside the alley, a whole section had the most vicious bugs Taylor had ever felt. People in dark robes and darkened hoods scurried about, talking in whispers and behaving like they were up to no good.

Mum's gentle words brought Taylor back to her senses. "Taylor, sweetie?"

Taylor blinked big blue wide-open eyes. "Mum! There's so many!"

Annette nodded slowly. She had crouched in front of Taylor at some point. Taylor didn't remember when.

"I know sweetheart, but you've got to focus. Can you do that?"

Taylor nodded absentmindedly, throwing a glance the way back. The wall had closed and it was just a normal brick wall. With a supreme effort of will, she pushed the new senses and bugs to the back of her mind. A few steps into the alley, and Taylor had forgotten about the new bugs.

It was one thing to see and feel things with her bugs, another entirely to see it with her own eyes.

The stack of cauldrons (and the sign above it) caught Taylor's eye first. Then the pet store, then the book store, and the apothecary, and the book store, and the clothing shop, and the book store. Taylor was vaguely aware of her mum gently guiding her through the mass of people.

Down the street, they stopped by a silver marble building that towered over the others. A small man, wearing red and gold armor guarded the door, gesturing to people coming in and out of the building. Like the TARDIS, it was bigger inside than should be possible. That wasn't even taking into account the deep tunnels leading God knows where.

"We're here," mum said, looking at the building.

"Are those…?"

Mum looked at Taylor, then nodded. "Goblins. They can be abrasive, but be polite."

Into the wizard bank the duo went. Dozens and dozens of goblins sat on high stools scribbling into ledgers, counting and weighing coins, inspecting gems through eyeglasses. There were too many doors leading from this room, many which goblins led people to and from.

Annette and Taylor made for the counter where a goblin had just finished his business with a portly witch.

"Good morning," mum said with a small nod. "I'd like to withdraw from Taylor's vault."

"Do you have the key?"

Mum nodded, and Taylor took the key from her pocket and handed it over to the little man.

The goblin examined it closely. "That seems to be in order. Would you like to visit the vault?"

Taylor looked at her mum expectantly.

"There's no need," mum said after a moment. "A hundred galleons withdraw and an accounting of the vault's contents will be enough."

"Very well," the goblin said, hopping off the stool. "Follow me."

He led the way towards one of the many doors. Inside was a room decorated with a table, a few chairs and nothing else.

"Wait here," said the goblin before leaving them alone.

The next minutes flashed by with Taylor examining everything in her range. Some strange centipedes-like crawlers that ate rocks. A type of worm that melted through stones, gnats and others. She also kept an eye on the goblin, having placed a fly on the back of his clothes to follow him around. He went to what looked like an archive, pulling parchment and reading things, while yelling at other goblins and giving orders.

About ten minutes later, he was back, carrying a parchment sheet and a bag of coins.

"Here you have it."

Mum took both and nodded to the goblin. "Thank you. Can you tell me what the current value of the coins are?"

"Eighteen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-eight Knuts to a Sickle."

Mum nodded her head. "Thank you."

There was silence for a moment with mum staring down the goblin. Taylor imagined sparks flying out of their eyes and meeting into a fearsome battle between both. Sadly, that didn't happen. The goblin let out a derisive snort, turned around and left the room without another word.

"Goblins." She heard her mother mutter.

Taylor had, for a brief moment, imagined that she was a daughter of some long forgotten magical noble, now back to claim her fortune and fame. The truth was less grandiose than that. The vault's contents weren't anything to sneeze at, but it also wasn't the fortune that stories were made of.

Mum let Taylor see the scribbled parchment. It had taken some effort to understand goblin scrawls, but she managed it in the end.

Nine thousand, two hundred and seventy nine galleons, two thousand, five hundred and three sickles, three hundred and thirty three knuts, already including the bank operational fee. A collection of memorabilia that, according to the goblin's report (if not exactly in those words), was worth less than dirt and a waste of space.

Taylor peered at the parchment, confused. "Why is it described like that?"

Annette shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Goblins only recognize value if it can be weighed or sold. The items inside the vault were things that had emotional value to us. With the war escalating, your dad didn't want to lose his precious football card collection."

Taylor noted her mum's tactful phrasing regarding goblins. It was a nice tidbit to know for the future.

With the matters at the bank settled, it was time to shop and purchase her school year supplies. Taylor wanted to go buy books first, but her mother had other ideas.

"A wand first, then a trunk."

 

[okashihime]

"Curious, very curious indeed." Said the strange man, ripping the piece of wood from Taylor's hand before she could even shake the thing like he'd asked her to.

Taylor was starting to feel disgruntled as well as uncomfortable.

Mister Ollivander looked at Taylor like she was some interesting science experiment that had wandered into his shop. He'd been offering pieces of wood — or wands like he called them — and asking her to 'try it', whatever that meant. It started as something fun and new but had become an annoying chore. Taylor had lost count of how many sticks she'd shaken.

She wasn't the only one getting impatient.

There was a crowd waiting for their turn with the wandmaker. Parents and children filling the cramped store and staring daggers at Taylor and Annette, each getting more and more impatient with each stick Taylor failed to shake to the man's approval. She was tired of hearing the descriptions of the sticks: Ash, Birch, Aspen, Holly, Willow. Nine inches, twelve, eleven and a half. Flexible, brittle, bendy or stiff, with a core made of unicorn hairs, dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers. It didn't matter the combination he presented, none seemed to satisfy him.

"You're a most difficult one," Ollivander said, after staring unblinkingly at Taylor for what felt like five minutes. "Maybe…" the man muttered, walking inside the shop, but instead of rummaging through the rows and rows of boxes, he went to what looked like a workshop of some sort. From there, he pulled a different box. It was older, the top almost completely full of dust.

He returned shortly, staring intently at Taylor. He opened the box, presenting the stick inside. This time he didn't describe what it was made of.

Taylor looked inside the box.

The wand inside looked like nothing more than a branch from some unknown tree. Unlike the other wands that were decorated and had a clear handle, this one didn't have one, which cemented the normal branch vibe. With a shrug, she picked up the stick.

The first indication that something had changed was the blinding pain in her head. Taylor bit back a gasp and then noticed that every bug in her range had stopped. It was just a blip before Taylor forced them to act normally, but it happened. The second was that her range grew. She wasn't sure how much, but there were so many new bugs in her perception that it explained the headache.

"Blackthorn, rigid, thirteen inches long. Acromantula hair core."

Taylor was vaguely aware of whispering from the crowd behind her, but her attention was divided among the many new bugs and senses and eyes.

"I never thought this wand would find its match," Ollivander said, unaware Taylor's mind was lost in the sudden flood of new information. "It was an experiment by my father, more than half a century ago."

Ollivander blabbed on about the wood quality, Blackthorn, and how it defined the wand, how his father had made only one successful wand with acromantula hair, how he'd expected new and surprising things from wand and wielder. He talked like the wand was a living thing.

Taylor barely heard it, amidst the pounding in her head.

Annette, however, was up to task. She paid for the wand, twelve galleons, almost double the usual price, thanked the man, apologized for the waiting crowd, then led Taylor away.

It didn't take long until she got used to the new range of senses. It took less time to realise she was sitting down on a bench, leaning against her mum, a melting chocolate treat in hand and a gentle hand caressing her hair.

"Are you better? Do you want to go home?" Mum asked, looking into Taylor's eyes.

A small shake of the head, and a bit of effort of will to ignore sensory overload, a few seconds to lick the melty chocolate from her fingers and Taylor was ready to get back to shopping. There was no way she was leaving this place without getting some books. All of them if possible.

"I'm fine," Taylor lied, ignoring another spike of pain. "Talk about it at home?"

Annette inspected Taylor's eyes for a long moment before nodding. "Alright."

From there, things moved fast. Their next purchase was a school trunk. Mum paid a premium for that one, a magical trunk that could fit more than it should. It was second hand, but it looked well kept and usable.

Trunk secured, Taylor tried to drag her mum into the bookstore, but Annette had other priorities. First were the school supplies. Cauldron (not the self-cleaning one), glass phials, telescope, brass scales. Ready for the bookstore, Taylor whined when they spent the next two hours fitting and adjusting for school robes, gloves and winter cloak. She was sure they were ready for the books when mum dragged her to the pet store.

"Why?" Taylor whined harder.

Mum rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "You need an owl, little owl. Otherwise, how are you going to send me letters?"

Giving up on convincing her mom as a bad job, Taylor looked forward to getting a new pet. There were several types of owls to pick from. Some exotic, others that looked pretty with their fluffy white feathers. There was one that looked startled, with feathers that looked like horns. Others that looked like they didn't want anything with Taylor at all. Most of the birds turned away from Taylor or tried to peck her fingers when she got close.

The only one that didn't was an owl that looked like it was a sleepy one. Face flat and eyes half closed, feathers white and brown. Taylor knew all about owls, having been called little owl by her mum for as long as she could remember. The sleepy bird was a barn owl, one of the most common species out there. She extended her hand toward the bird, fully expecting it to peck her fingers. Instead, the owl hooted, flapped its wings and landed on Taylor's head, where it nested and went back to sleep.

"I guess you finally found one," mum said from a few paces away, not even trying to suppress the mirth in her voice.

Taylor rolled her eyes. If the lazy bird wanted and could sleep on her head, that was fine. She had more important things to do, like visit the bookstore, like right now! She'd kept a few thousand bugs eyes in the place just to make sure the good books didn't disappear before she got there. The crowd of people surrounding the posh guy had diminished as the day progressed.

And then, finally, after getting a cage and food for her new pet, Taylor marched toward paradise.

The bookstore was everything she ever wanted and more. Books on magic, books about magic, story books about magic, research, gossip rags, teenager witch gossip magazines. She wanted them all.

"A firstie?" An amused voice called out from inside the store.

Taylor blinked owlishly in sync with the owl on her head.

"Right, of course you are." The man said with a smile. He turned about, bent down and then pulled up a stack of books. A quick glance was enough to see it was all the books in her school list.

Mum was already on it. She walked closer, smiling, asking for prices and more.

Taylor didn't pay attention to that, nor to the posh man dressed in aquamarine clothes who preened like a bird when the stack of books landed on the counter. No, Taylor had found the section with history of magic and other interesting books. She pulled on a trolley and started piling the goods. Mum could deal with payment. Taylor had waited and suffered this day long enough.

---

The spending spree had cost most of Taylor's money. It wasn't for a lack of want that she hadn't bought more books, but a lack of space. Even with an expanded trunk (mum was really the best for insisting on that one), there was no more space for more books. She considered getting a normal bag or something, or better yet, a second trunk for even more books, but mum put her foot down. They'd spent all but one galleon and a few sickles in their buying frenzy.

It was now late at night and Taylor was back in her pastel colored room, reading from the standard book of spells and waving her stick — wand, in the movements shown in the pictures and saying the words. It wasn't going well. The feather, an involuntary donation from Taylor's new pet, Nap, didn't budge an inch. Nap wasn't happy at all with all the noise and hand waving. She kept following the stick and hooting menacingly whenever the wand got closer.

"Wingardum Leveossa!" Taylor said, doing her best with the funny foreign words, sure that this time, the Feather would move.

It didn't.

It also didn't matter too much. Taylor had a whole month to practice magic and read her books about magic.

 

[okashihime]

Big blue eyes peered back from the mirror strapped to the wall.

Taylor didn't like mirrors. Every time she looked into one, there was a sense she wasn't who she was supposed to be. She kept expecting to see a wide, thin mouth, luxurious curly raven hair and expressive brown eyes. Instead, what always greeted her was the same old baby-blues and blonde curls.

Maybe the issues were the nightmares. Taylor had, since she could remember, these strange dreams where the brunette with the same bug powers as her did unspeakable things in the name of doing good.

But mirrors! A last check to make sure she hadn't smudged anything and she was ready, dressed in the silly black robes without the silly pointy hat.

"Taylor, sweetie, we're going to be late if we don't leave now."

Right, it was finally time for magic school! A month flew by in a blink of many eyes.

Much like her dreams of being some long lost secret daughter of magical emperor king, her dreams of mastering all the magic before school even started were thwarted by complications.

Complication one: Taylor's pronunciation was horrible. After suffering with the Wingardium Leviosa spell for a whole day, pronouncing the incantation wrong, mum took pity on her and helped with the words. It was one of those spells that were so commonplace that even she knew the words from hearing it from dad swishing the wand at home to move things without leaving the couch, the lazy bones.

Even with the correct words, Taylor got waylaid by another spell: Lumos. This one was simple and easy. Took about a day to master so she could keep trying her other spells under covers and pretend she was sleeping when mum told her to go to bed.

After Lumos, she finally managed a twitch of the feather with the levitation charm and having spent so long with those two (a whole two full days!), Taylor decided to take a break from spell-casting and check the other material.

She devoured the other course books, reading and re-reading things. When that wasn't enough, Taylor cheated. Her visit to the magic market presented her with an opportunity that she couldn't pass up. There were strange bugs and bug-like creatures that had sight and hearing almost as good as humans. So, of course Taylor nixed a few of them, hiding them under her clothes, among her hair and even inside the school trunk.

The rule about not bringing bugs into the house didn't apply in this case. She wasn't even sure these were bugs.

So, now, with the help of her helpers, a few books scattered open and tiny hands flipping pages, Taylor read, and read, and read. By reading, she finally found what her new pets were. Doxies and Pixies.

Doxies were the meanest of the bunch. Even under her absolute control, Taylor could feel their desire to bite and to eat and to tear. Their bites were nasty and the venom nastier still. Eight limbs into a tiny murder package was enough to spook Taylor into keeping just a single of the things. It was best not to risk it, after all. She named it Bity.

The other ones, her new favorite were the pixies or Cornish Pixies to be exact. They were a pretty shade of electric blue with pointed faces and shrill voices. They were bigger than the doxies. About eight inches which had made smuggling them from the alley hard. She managed only two. Dee and Dum. Contrary to the doxie, the pixies seemed to bask in her control. After a few days, Taylor released Dee from her control and instead of going rabid like she was expecting, Dee just flew and sat on Taylor's shoulder, looking at everything like it was seeing it for the first time.

With her new helpers, Taylor could read books all day long. Even when watching the telly with mom, or cooking, or talking or using the loo.

Bity, Dee and Dum were more than happy to eat bugs which made them easy to keep around fed and content, or less murderous, in Bity's case.

Complication two: Taylor read each book at least thrice, expending more time than was actually helpful on Lockhart's books. Those were amazing fantasies, but they weren't instruction books, just pure fantasy. That left her confused on why a magic school required fantasy literature, but maybe she was missing something cultural here.

Regarding spells, she mastered four of the charms in her book. Lumos and Nox. Wingardium and Reparo. Reparo hadn't been something Taylor was planning to learn so soon, but going around the house fixing small things and making mum smile was more than worth the whole week of practice it took to fully master it.

Clad in school robes sans pointy hat (that one was a bit too much), Taylor skipped down the stairs, illegal friends hiding under the folds of her robes.

Mum was waiting by the door, Nap napping in her cage, trunk packed and ready.

"Do you remember the rules?" Mum asked before they could leave the house.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Yes, mum." If her voice came out whiny, it wasn't her fault.

Mum shook her head, kneeling in front of Taylor.

"I won't be there if anything happens, little owl."

"But mum!"

"No buts." Mum said in a mock stern voice. "Now, recite them to me."

Taylor huffed, but did as asked.

"Never let anyone know about my superpower, not even best friends."

Mum was already nodding, but Taylor didn't agree with this one, not anymore. It made sense when she was the only one with magic out there, but now there was a whole new community of magicals, there was no need for secrets anymore.

"But mum, we don't need to hide anymore. There's magic out there!"

Mum's look was complicated. She shook her head.

"You are special, little owl, and the things you can do. No one likes to have their secrets spied on. Letting people know what you can do will only cause trouble."

"But mum!"

"No buts." Mum said. "What is the next rule?"

Taylor stomped her feet but complied. "No spying on friends and family."

Mum smiled and kissed the top of Taylor's head. Taylor, of course, pretended she didn't like it, squirming (not too hard) under her grasp.

"What's the next one?"

"No setting my bugs on bullies, even if they deserve it."

"And why is that?" mum asked, eyes piercing.

Taylor squirmed for real now. She looked at anything but her mum. "We don't want another ant incident," she mumbled.

Gentle arms wrapped around Taylor. "I'll miss you, sweetie."

Taylor buried her face on her mother's clothes and mumbled. "I can stay if you want."

Even with her eyes hidden, Taylor could hear the smile on mum's voice. "None of that. You go and make friends and have fun. If you miss me, you can always have Nap deliver letters."

Taylor nodded. They stayed like that for a few more moments, before mum broke the hug.

"Off we go, or we'll miss the train."

---

Platform 9 ¾ had been a mystery mum refused to spill. Taylor had never heard of a platform number in fraction, so magic shenanigans were certain.

Mum, that traitor, watched bemused while Taylor gawked. It hadn't been hard to figure out the secret. A fly in each person around, and when groups of people started disappearing for no reason, she led mum toward the spot in question.

What Taylor hadn't expected was to see madmen running toward a wall and just… vanishing. Like magic.

"That's it?" Taylor asked, still not believing it.

All around, normal people busied by with their normal lives, no one even glancing at the people-swallowing-wall.

"How?" She blurted out.

Mum's voice was deep and full of mirth. "Magic!"

"Mum!"

Annette laughed. A few passersby looked in their direction, but soon lost interest.

"Well, what are we waiting for? It is just a wall."

Mum was having far too much fun with this, but Taylor wasn't going to back down because of a wall. She girded her loins, prepared for battle, made sure her stowaways were secure, and pushed the trolley forward. She kept her eyes wide open, certain something bad would happen.

It didn't.

Taylor passed through the wall and on the other side was a whole new station. A marvelous red train sat on the tracks. Gentle white smoke poured out. The platform was abuzz with kids and parents and official looking people walking about. There were children inside the train, waving to their parents from the windows, there were children crying in their parents' robes: some because they were leaving for school, others because they weren't.

"It's magical, isn't it?"

Mum looked as awed as Taylor felt.

"Let's go find you a seat. I doubt you'll be able to manage your trunk alone."

Taylor nodded absentmindedly, following her mum into the train and to the first free compartment they found. She noticed that not everyone had come dressed in school robes. The ones that did, Taylor guessed, were children of magicals. They had the look and attitude. Those dressed in casual clothes were most likely those like her, who lived away from Magical Britain.

Inside the train compartment, trunk safely stowed away, and Nap napping on her favorite spot, Taylor felt hands holding her into another gentle hug.

"You have fun and make friends, alright?"

Taylor nodded. She couldn't speak even if she wanted to. Her throat felt full and her eyes stung. It was only when the door opened that Taylor managed to regain her balance. "Love you, mum." She whispered, wiping her eyes. There was some dust here and it kept entering her eyes. So unfair.

Mum kissed her forehead again, gave her one last hug and then left, after nodding toward the newcomer.

The interloper was a blonde girl with protuberant silvery eyes that followed Taylor's mum until she was out of sight.

"I like your mum," the girl said in a dreamy voice, eyes like she was looking into faraway distance. "She's nice."

Taylor smiled. She didn't even notice she was doing it. "She's the nicest."

Blondie turned back to Taylor, smiling dreamily. "Hullo. I'm Luna."

 

[okashihime]

"Daddy wants to go looking for the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, but he'd been very busy trying to uncover a new ministry conspiracy."

Taylor nodded, absorbed in the tidbits. Luna was awesome. It was like they were friends that saw each other everyday. She talked about her life, her home, the conspiracies. She had a different outlook on things, so unlike the stuffy view Taylor was starting to take for granted from the many books and magicals she met along the way.

A few moments before the train departed, a young redhead pushed the door open and stomped inside. Carelessly, she pushed the trunk in, stared at the sleeping owl for a few moments before she gave a curt nod toward Taylor, a stiff 'hullo Luna' to which Luna answered with 'Hi Ginny'

Ginny then sat, just not for long. She looked like she didn't fit in her skin and kept looking over the compartment door and windows, moving about with frantic energy.

Conversation about conspiracies and magical creatures continued, but Ginny didn't seem enthused by the topic, even though she wasn't participating. Something that Luna also noticed.

"What's wrong, Ginny?"

Ginny scowled, arms crossed. "Harry Potter didn't board the train!"

It took Taylor just a few moments to place the name. It featured prominently in the modern magic history books: The hero magic-baby who defeated the Dark Lord.

Luna nodded. "Did he run away?"

"No!" Ginny shouted, then pouted. "He was just behind us on the platform, but he didn't follow us through the wall and mom couldn't go back to see what happened."

"It's alright," Luna said in her dreamy voice. "He can always send an owl to the school."

Ginny looked startled, like the option hadn't even crossed her mind. She took a deep breath, then nodded, turned to Taylor and smiled. It looked just a tad forced.

"Hullo, I'm Ginny Weasley."

Taylor smiled back and offered her hand. "I'm Taylor."

Ginny took the offered hand, shook it, but she looked distracted.

"Right," she said, getting up and power walking toward the door. "I'll be right back."

Luna smiled, and Taylor nodded again, numbly. Her eyes followed Ginny's path inside the crowded corridors with a small fly she'd smuggled on the faded sweater Ginny wore.

"You can see through walls." Luna remarked, having followed Taylor's eyes while Taylor followed Ginny.

Taylor's head whipped around sharply, staring wide eyed at Luna.

Luna leaned forward, patting Taylor gently on the hand. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Unsure how to respond, Taylor said the first thing that came to mind. "Thank… you?"

"You're welcome!"

The silence, uncomfortable on Taylor's side, stretched for what felt like forever, but wasn't more than a few moments. A part of her mind kept track of her quarry: Ginny pushed past older teenagers until she met with an older boy also sporting a mane full of red. Ginny gesticulated wildly, and the boy nodded dismissively. Scowling and muttering under her breath, Ginny ran back and toward another compartment. This one had several teens talking, but more importantly, twins sporting a familiar brand of red hair.

They seemed more interested in what Ginny had to say, but not enough to appease the hellion.

Meanwhile, Luna had picked up a magazine from somewhere. It was named 'The Quibbler'. This wasn't one Taylor had seen when going on her shopping spree, but she also hadn't had time to scour the whole bookstore. At first she thought it was a gossip magazine or something, but a better look at the cover put that to rest.

Ministry of Magic: Are They Putting Wrackspurts In The Floo Network?

That headline was very sus in Taylor's opinion, but she wasn't going to dismiss anything just because it sounded silly. The world was magic, and things she didn't know were one and many. But still, she ventured a question to her possible new friend and confidant.

"Floo network?"

That naive question led into more and more theories about the ministry, invisible creatures that crowded the brain and magic-fireplace-fueled travels. Taylor lapped it all up, avidly.

When Ginny returned — still looking anxious and frantic — Taylor had moved to sit beside Luna and both were reading from The Quibbler, with Luna pointing out the facts on the front page news.

"—and so, daddy could only conclude that the ministry is intentionally letting wrackspurts infest the network to keep wizardkind pliable to be taken advantage of by the brewing conspiracy."

The rest of the train trip went on like that. Ginny would sometimes give out her opinion on things, mostly opposed Luna's own brand of wisdom, but didn't really join the conversation. She was too worried about this Harry Potter boy to pay attention to 'loony theories'. Taylor would have felt offended with that if Luna hadn't just smiled her dreamy smile and nodded along.

The discussion was interrupted at some point by a portly witch pushing a trolley cart about. With the remainder of her money (one galleon and a few sickles), Taylor bought everything she could. Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Licorice Wands, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Peppermint Toads and more.

"Every flavour?" Taylor asked between fighting with the leaping chocolate frog and eyeing the bean in Luna's hand.

In lieu of answering, Luna popped the bean into her mouth, chewed, and nodded. "Ear wax. Not my favorite."

Nap decided, with the peppermint toads, it was time to wake up and eat. She made a mess of the treat ("Nap! No! Get back here!"), then promptly went straight back to sleep, this time on Luna's head.

Taylor, after much deliberation, decided to risk one of the beans. She picked a nice reddish coloured one. That should be safe, right? A moment later, she popped the bean. It tasted like beef. Very rare.

There was a moment of silence with both Ginny and Luna waiting and watching.

Taylor bolted toward the bathroom. Very rare beef didn't agree with chocolate frogs leftovers.

Luna watched her go with serene curiosity while Ginny looked equal parts sympathetic and vindicated about not eating any beans herself.

The rest of the eight hour train journey passed with just a few more disruptions. The Weasley twins came to check on their baby sister, much to Ginny's displeasure. There were a few other children popping about from time to time and asking questions, but it was just the excitement of magic school clouding children's behaviour.

Distracted by her new friend, Taylor barely kept an eye on the others inside the train.

Outside the window, darkness had fallen. The landscape had grown wilder and less familiar, and Taylor's bugs were picking up creatures she'd never encountered before as they moved north. Conversation died down naturally, until an older student popped by the compartment ("Yes, I'm Percy. I'm a Prefect, didn't you see my badge? You should listen to me. Don't roll your eyes at me, Ginny."), to inform them about the arrival, to put pets in the cages and get dressed into the school robes. There was no need to take the luggage or pets when leaving the train. Someone else will take care of it.

Nap went into her cage, while Ginny and Luna donned the school robes.

"Which house do you reckon you're going to? I'm a Gryffindor. My whole family was."

Luna nodded.

"I'd be a great snake. Or maybe a majestic lion."

Ginny stopped and stared. "You? In Slytherin?"

Taylor held back on commenting. She knew the basics of the house system as explained in the book: Hogwarts: A History. In the book, it was described as a way to foster relationships between students and promote certain character traits.

Luna nodded again, smiling. "I'd be an amazing snake."

Ginny's question, as well as many other instances of house rivalry in the train that Taylor had kept a low-key awareness of said differently. The redhead didn't seem satisfied with Luna's answers. She turned to Taylor next.

"And you?"

Taylor shrugged. She knew she was special in some ways, even more than her magic, but she wasn't particularly brave, or cunning. Taylor liked books, but she wasn't driven by learning things, even if the past month may have said otherwise. She knew what she wanted: to make friends and have fun. That was Hufflepuff, right? "No idea. Any house should be fine."

"As long as it isn't Slytherin." Ginny said, nodding. "They are the house of evil wizards. Even Hufflepuff is better."

The train stopped and people crowded the station. It was a sight seeing all students dressed in matching robes with different colors. It became clear that each house had a different uniform. It also made it easier to spot the first years. They weren't just the smallest around. They were all dressed in black.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" A giant of a man, and his big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads, waving toward the students. He carried a lit lamp in one hand. "C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!"

Stumbling and holding for dear life on Luna's shoulder, Taylor followed the giant down a steep, narrow path. It was so dark that if it wasn't for her bugs, she wouldn't have even known there were towering trees around the path.

Nobody spoke much, following the giant in anticipation.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," The giant called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a chorus of "Awwws" and "Ooohs".

The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Their guide called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Taylor got in, followed by Luna and Ginny.

"Everyone in?" Their guide had commandeered a boat for himself, "Right then – FORWARD!"

The fleet of boats glided across the dark lake waters. Everyone was silent, most still stunned from the sights of the castle. Taylor was picking many new interesting critters in her range. She wasn't aware her power could also work on sea life. There were a few types of crabs and other sea creatures her power was happily taking over. She froze for a moment, then, decidedly, made sure none of her new critters bothered the big scary tentacled giant squid lazily watching the boats go by.

"Mind yer heads!" yelled the giant when the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. The dark tunnel took them right underneath the castle, until they reached some kind of underground harbour, where students disembarked out onto rocks and pebbles. From there, they moved up a passageway in the rock, following the giant and his lamp to arrive onto smooth grass just beside the castle. Their guide moved toward a flight of stone steps, and had all the students crowd around a huge oak door.

With one last look around the many tiny kids, he nodded, then knocked three times on the castle doors.

 

[okashihime]

With the distraction provided by the castle and their guide, Taylor let her stowaways fly out from under her robes and into the dark of night. She'd find a place for them shortly, once she had settled down herself. Her trio of stowaways happily flitted outside toward one of the towers catching bugs and having a meal.

The door swung open and Professor McGonagall stood on the other side, watching with the same stern face from when she visited Taylor's house to deliver the letter.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant.

"Thank you, Hagrid. You did a good job, as always."

Hagrid smiled, and pulled the doors open. The Entrance Hall was big and proper fantasy-like. Flaming torches provided illumination from the walls, and the ceiling was too high to make out with her own eyes, a magnificent marble staircase led to the upper floors.

Professor McGonagall led the procession across the flagged stone floor. Taylor could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, but the Professor showed the kids into a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together and peering about. Some nervously, others excitedly.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses."

From there, McGonagall explained the significance of the house system, what each house stood for and a brief explanation of the house cup, with successes being awarded and troublemakers punished and how that affected the whole house. It was the same information she'd read from Hogwarts: A History. Strangely, neither the book nor the professor explained how they'd be sorted into their house.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. A murmur rose from the crowd of kids.

Ginny looked even more frantic than inside the train. Maybe she was still worried about the Harry boy, or maybe she was worried which house she'd be selected for, or maybe she desperately needed to visit the loo. Any of those looked possible.

Taylor paid only a smidge of attention to most of that; there was so much to see. The castle was majestic and gigantic. So many towers and nooks to explore. She wanted to be done with this sorting so she could go exploring. And because of that, Taylor added a new self-imposed rule: No using bugs to explore until she'd explored things herself. Bug vision wasn't the same as seeing things for the first time with her own eyes.

Ahead of the pack of children, a duo looked ready to tear into each other.

"Say that again?" A tall, dark skinned girl shouted, fists balled. She had a faint accent, like she'd grown up around people who hadn't mastered the language yet.

The boy in front of her had a mop of black hair, gelled into the perfect coif. His voice carried the same sneer as his expression.

"You should at least learn from your betters, instead of blundering around like a dying fish."

"And what is this?" said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. The brewing fight died under her stern glare.

'Form a line," she commanded, "and follow me."

With the bugs out of her mind, excitement bubbled into a crescendo. Taylor wanted to grab at Luna who was just in front of her in the line and talk about everything they saw and did up until now. There were so many things to talk about and to see and do.

The line walked out of the chamber, back across the main hall and through double doors leading into a great hall.

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students sat. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers sat. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. Dotted here and there among the students, ghosts shone misty silver.

Taylor held back a squeal. Real life ghosts!

It was one thing reading about the great hall and its enchanted ceiling and ghosts in the book, it was another to experience it by herself. This only cemented her new rule. No spoiling the surprises with bugs.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the children. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched, frayed, and looked dirty. Strangely, there wasn't a single bug there.

Stranger still, the hat moved and began to sing.



Come gather round, new students all, And hear me sing within this hall, For though I'm old and worn and frayed, I'll sort you well, don't be afraid.

In Gryffindor, the brave make home, Where lions roar and heroes roam, With nerve and daring, bold and true, Red and gold will welcome you.

In Hufflepuff, the loyal stay, Where patience guides you every day, With honest heart and steady hand, The badger builds on solid land.

In Ravenclaw, the curious find, A home for every seeking mind, Where wit and wisdom light the way, Through every night and every day.

In Slytherin, ambition grows, Where cunning water twists and flows, With purpose sharp and vision clear, The serpent knows what it holds dear.

Four houses built by founders four, Who stood together, nothing more, So heed this well in your days: A castle stands united always.



It bowed to each of the four tables and then went still again.

The students in the tables yelled and hooted and applauded.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Adeyemi, Nneka!'

Coincidentally, the first name called was of the dark skinned girl. She didn't look angry anymore, but nervous and anxious. Adeyemi nodded, then power walked and sat heavily on the stool.

McGonagall placed the hat on her head, and a few seconds later, the hat yelled: "GRYFFINDOR!" And as soon as it did, Adeyemi's robes changed. Where they were all black, now it was decorated with red and gold, like all other Gryffindor students.

Magic was so cool!

The loudest table cheered and clapped. Taylor noticed that among them, the redheaded twins were the loudest, shouting and hooting about 'first pick' or something.

"Ashworth, Tobias" McGonagall called another name. The boy who answered was clearly someone from a magical family. He didn't seem as anxious as the others and his robes looked extra, even if they didn't look any different from Taylor's own.

The hat deliberated longer this time, almost one minute before it shouted: "SLYTHERIN!"

On and on the names went. Taylor couldn't see any reason why kids were sorted in the houses they were sorted into. For a moment, she thought that kids from old magical families would tend for Slytherin, but that didn't hold true when another posh, arrogant looking boy got sorted in Hufflepuff instead.

In what felt like no time at all and forever at once, it was her turn. "Hebert, Taylor."

Taylor took a deep breath. Ginny smiled, and Luna nodded encouragingly. Keeping her head high, she marched forward and sat on the stool. Not a moment later, the brim of the old hat covered most of her head and eyes. Despite how old it looked, it smelled fresh.

'What do we have here?' A voice spoke inside her head. 'Very loyal, I see and—' then the voice cut off abruptly and her power shifted in a way that it had never before.

Taylor waited, and waited, and waited some more. Murmurs rose from the tables, and not knowing what to do, Taylor fidgeted. Time crawled and the hat kept mum, not calling any house name at all.

Had she broken the hat, somehow? McGonagall seemed to think something was wrong as well, because she leaned forward and whispered a question.

"Is everything alright, Miss Hebert?"

Taylor used her hand to push the brim of the hat up and free her eyes. She looked at the professor and whispered back: "I don't know. The hat started speaking, then stopped."

McGonagall nodded, but didn't seem worried. "Very well."

Taylor hadn't told the woman about other the thing that might be a problem and the reason why she thought she had broken the hat: Her control over bugs and other magical creatures felt different somehow after putting the hat on. Before it was like her power was barely awake and sometimes taking interest in new things, and now it felt… different, alert.

Taylor released the hat, blocking her from seeing the murmuring kids. She'd consider the implications about that later. For now, she focused on Dee and Dum and Bity to make sure her power was still working like it always did.

They were now flitting near the biggest tower in the castle. There were slits in the walls that could serve as temporary housing until she found someplace better. She did her best to keep their eyes focused on the tower and the stone and avoid looking around.

No spoiling was her new rule.

She'd just finished arranging nests when the hat spoke again.

'You'd be a perfect Hufflepuff. You'd make friends, and earn their loyalty and be loyal in return. You, however, aren't alone in here. So it better be…' "RAVENCLAW!" The last bit was yelled for everyone in the great hall.

Taylor plucked the hat out of her head and thrust it toward McGonagall. The professor took it with a nod and a smile, and Taylor walked toward the second table from the left. Her robes had changd as well, now, instead of black they were midnight blue and bronze. Conversation died and applause started slowly, before picking up. Older students welcomed Taylor to their table, nodding, offering waves or smiles.

From the Gryffindor table, she heard the twins crying that they didn't get the hatstall, whatever that meant.

The rest of the sorting passed quickly. There was no other delay like her own sorting. Luna ended up in Ravenclaw as well, for which Taylor was more than grateful for. Ginny, as predicted, went to Gryffindor. The applause and cheering among the Gryffindors was astounding. Even Hufflepuff and a few Ravenclaws cheered. The Weasleys seemed to be very well liked.

After every kid was sorted, the tall old wizard at the head of the professor's table stood. That one had to be Albus Dumbledore, he even matched the pictures in the books. He beamed at the students, his arms opened wide, as if this was the happiest day of his life.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" He looked directly at Taylor, eyes twinkling. "And we're delayed enough, let our banquet begin!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

Between one breath and the next, the dishes on the table were now piled with food: steak and kidney pie, shepherd's pie, toad in the hole, kedgeree, gammon, braised lamb shanks, poached salmon, bubble and squeak, mushy peas, buttered leeks, creamed spinach, pickled red cabbage, cauliflower cheese, parsnips, swede mash, runner beans, crusty bloomer loaves, baps, suet dumplings, piccalilli, brown sauce, mint sauce, horseradish, and a pot of something that smelled strongly of cloves but Taylor couldn't name it.

Taylor looked around, amazed, before piling her plate with food and digging in. By her side, Luna was doing the same, but for some reason, she started with the mint sauce.

 

[okashihime]

The feast was stupendous and the food divine. Taylor ate until a single more bite would make her explode like a surprise pinãta. She pushed her plates away, regretting her life choices. Sneakily, she pocketed a few bits to feed her friends.

That was when the food disappeared and the desserts took their places.

There was a loud cheer around the room.

Taylor slumped and let out a muffled groan-slash-sob.

By her side, Luna had an understanding look in her eyes. She patted Taylor's hand gently, then dove in to eat the desserts Taylor couldn't physically eat. She did the next best thing: she paid attention to every micro expression and noise coming out of her friend. Luna bit on an exquisite small tart and let out a happy thrill. Eating desserts vicariously through others was a valid strategy, right?

When the feast ended, the Headmaster stood once more, with the new school year announcements. He probably spoke of many important things, but leaden by food and sleep, Taylor barely heard any. The only thing she took from the whole speech was there was a new defense against the dark arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. It took longer than Taylor would ever admit to place the name. She'd read his books thrice, they were amazing fantasy.

Then the welcoming feast was over and older students began moving and guiding the first years towards their common rooms. Their guide this time was a blonde witch with straight hair. Her name was Penelope Clearwater, or Penny if the name sounded too long.

Taylor shambled after Penny doing her best to pay attention to the directions. Her attention was stretched thin. Between the food induced sleepiness, the many moving pictures and stairs, the corridors with full suits of armors and more things to see and explore than Taylor could shake her stick at, it felt like a blink of an eye and they were in front of a door without a doorknob or keyhole.

"To enter, you have to answer a riddle," Penny was saying.

The bronze eagle on the door moved, and from its beak a voice came. "I have cities, but no houses live there. I have mountains, but no trees grow there. I have water, but no fish swim there. I have roads, but no cars travel there. What am I?"

"A map," Penny said without wasting a moment.

The door opened and on the other side was a wide, circular room with graceful arched windows that punctuated the walls which were hung with blue and bronze silks and a midnight blue carpet covered in stars, which was reflected onto the domed ceiling. The room was furnished with blue tables, chairs, and a divan. Next to the door leading up stood a tall statue of a woman made of white marble.

The gaggle of kids trailed inside after the prefect. She pointed at the marble statue first. "That's Rowena Ravenclaw, our house founder." Without waiting, Penny led them towards the door and the stairs leading up. "Boys on the left, girls on the right." She said pointing at the bifurcated passage at the top of the stairs. "Boys aren't allowed on girl's dorms. Do not try it."

Too tired to argue, Taylor followed Luna into a room with four other beds.

The four-poster beds were covered in sky blue silk on platforms and the sound of the wind whistling around the windows was very relaxing. A wall was decorated with the Ravenclaw crest and the windows had blue curtains. There was also a desk and a shelf for books. On the floor in the center of the room was a carpet, also decorated with Ravenclaw's eagle.

Taylor found her bed easily enough. Her trunk was by the bed, but more importantly, Nap was already clawing at the bars of her cage. She hadn't realised it before but the cage seemed awfully small for her pet.

"Here girl," Taylor said, throwing the door open and letting the owl squeeze out. Nap hadn't had time to make her displeasure known when Taylor presented the bird with offerings. That appeased the feathery royalty. She let out a contented hoot, flapped her wings and settled on Taylor's head.

On the other side of the room girls watched all of that in bemused silence. Luna was nodding sagely, and deftly offering her own tributes. Of the other dorm mates, one had long luxurious black hair and brown eyes. She pulled something out of her pockets and offered it too. Her name was Mira something. Taylor couldn't quite remember from the sorting.

The other one, a brunette with a pixie cut, was staring wide-eyed at Nap. "That's…"

Taylor nodded, proud of her owl. "That's Nap, she's a sweetheart."

The fourth girl gulped audibly. Her eyes were still fixed on the owl. "What species is she?"

Taylor tilted her head, looking with narrowed eyes at the fourth girl. She remembered the name now. Harriet Vane. She wondered if that name was because of the magic-baby hero or something. "She's just a barn owl."

"That isn't—" Harriet started, then Luna slapped a hand over her mouth.

"It's just a barn owl," she said dreamily.

There was a hushed discussion among her three dorm mates. Taylor sneaked her way toward the windows and discreetly distributed the rest of the food for her other pets.

She got out of her school robes and into her pj's. Unrepentantly, they were still pink, still care bears. A quick visit to the bathroom to brush her teeth and empty her bladder, she was ready for bed. Only, she couldn't go to sleep yet.

The others had already settled down to sleep. With the help of a faint lumos charm, Taylor picked up a sheet of white paper and a pencil from her trunk. She sat at the desk, then related all the day's events in a letter to her mum: the castle, the boat, the train, the new friends and all the gossip she heard. It ended up being a full seven pages long. All the excitement of the day and night had put away thoughts of home, but here and now, she never felt more alone. That might have coloured her letter just a little, not to mention the smudge over a few of the lines. There was some infiltration in the room; someone should really look into that.

The others were already asleep when Taylor finished. She took Nap from the spot on her head and offered the sealed envelope.

"That's for mum. Can you deliver it for me?" she whispered to the owl, "I know it's late and you're probably tired, but it would mean a lot to me."

Nap hooted, grabbed the envelope in her beak. Taylor walked to the windows and cracked one open. Nap flapped her wings and flew away. She watched the owl disappear in the distance, then crawled into bed.

Sleep, however, wouldn't come.

The more time passed, the more she missed home and mum. She didn't remember a time she slept this far from her mum. There weren't any sleepovers with friends at school, or pajama parties she'd ever been invited to.

Taylor stuffed her face onto the pillow, trying to muffle sobs that wouldn't stop. She didn't notice the intruder until the bed creaked and gentle arms wrapped around her from behind.

"It's okay. I know." Luna's voice was like an eerie whisper in her ears.

Taylor grabbed at the arms around her, sniffled again and tried to shut up. It didn't work that well, but at some point, she fell asleep.

---

That night, Taylor dreamed of the Brunette again. She was dressed in her strangely fitting dark grey clothes — black widow spider-silk a part of her mind whispered — holding a strange futuristic spear that buzzed at the pointy end. Around her, the city was in ruins. Nearby some sort of bunker was partially flooded, with people scrambling and yelling and dying in agonizing ways. The brunette stood drenched, her curly black hair plastered over her masked face, yellow lenses creepy in the gloom. A creature of legends and hell stood in front of her. It was taller than a building, four asymmetric eyes in a noseless and mouthless face. It was picking its way around the few survivors of the bunker, killing indiscriminately. Taylor poked the monster at the base of the tail with her futuristic spear.

She woke up gasping in pain and trapped under unfamiliar arms.

There was a moment of building terror, then she remembered. Hogwarts, the dormitory, Luna.

Taylor must've turned during the night, because she was facing her friend. The blonde blinked one sleepy silvery eye open.

"It's alright. It's only dreams."

Taylor's throat bobbed, but she couldn't find the words. What did Luna know? Had she said anything while sleeping?

Luna didn't elaborate, and Taylor was too scared to ask.

Morning routine pushed any awkwardness out of the way. In what felt like no time at all, Taylor was dressed in her school robes (the other two sets had changed colors as well), and followed the crowd back towards the main hall for breakfast.

The great hall ceiling was cloudy today and the tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of keepers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon.

Taylor sat again near Luna. Having learned from the night prior, she ate moderately. Mid breakfast, she had her first dose of Wizarding mail. A trove of owls, Nap included, barged onto the great hall from the windows; each flew toward a student.

Nap flew straight to Taylor, flapping her big wings to arrest momentum. She landed on Taylor's head, and dropped a letter on her lap. It was from her mum. She'd just put the letter inside the pockets of her vest, planning to read it later in the privacy of her room, when, from the Gryffindor's table, a strident voice, loud enough to shake the plates and dislodge dust from the invisible ceiling, blared out.

"… STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU…"

The voice, Taylor could even imagine the owner, a matronly witch, went on and on.

"… DIDN'T BRING YOU UP LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED…"

Taylor blinked owlish in sync with Nap, craning her neck to look at the Gryffindor table. There was another redheaded Weasley, sitting near a dark haired boy and a bushy haired brunette. Even from a distance, Taylor could see Ginny staring intently at the boy with green eyes and strange scar in the forehead. That was, without a doubt, the magic-baby-hero Harry. It was nice to put faces to names.

From the sounds of the yelling (a howler, Luna happily supplied), Harry hadn't sent an owl to school but decided to steal a magic car and fly it when they missed the train. On the one hand, that was stupid. On the other, Taylor felt cheated for not being able to do the same. Invisible flying cars, she wanted one. It made sense why he didn't go with the boring choice of telling the adults. Flying cars were a lot more wicked.

To make sure she didn't miss anything, Taylor decided to tag the group with a few flies each. She offered a few treats to Nap, who happily gobbled them up, then nestled comfortably still on top of her head.

Among all the excitement, a small man with a luxurious mustache and carefully coiffed hair distributed class schedules. The man reminded her of a goblin, but she kept that one to herself, she wasn't sure if it was normal to point that out.

The small man, Professor Flitwick, as it turned out, was the head of Ravenclaw house. He greeted all of the new students personally. He already knew all the names. He taught charms and seemed static to start teaching them.

After breakfast, she looked at her schedule. Her first class was potions somewhere in the dungeons. It was still half an hour away, but Taylor had no idea where the classroom was.

"We should go," she said to Luna. "It's better to be early than late."

Luna smiled and nodded. "Potions! Do you think the professor will teach us how to cheat death?"

Taylor shrugged. A quick glance at the professor's table let her see the dour looking man with greasy hair and black robes. He didn't seem like someone to be messed with.

"Maybe," Taylor said, dragging Luna with her to grab school supplies and then search for the classroom.

 

[okashihime]

Stairs. It was still the morning of the first day and Taylor was starting to despise them.

According to Hogwarts: A History, there were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: Wide, sweeping, narrow, moving, disappearing, rickety. Some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up.

And Taylor was starting to hate every single one of them.

She arrived in Ravenclaw's tower breathless and sweating. Luna was kind enough to supply the password, because Taylor was too busy breathing sweet oxygen. But there wasn't time to dawdle. The return to the dorms took longer than expected on account of getting lost half a dozen times.

They had ten minutes to find the dungeons, and somehow she didn't think it would be enough.

As it turned out, they weren't the only ones lost. Near the great hall, and five minutes away from the start of class, Penny came to rescue, literally. She was leading a group of wide-eyed first years. Most were of Ravenclaw, but there were also a few dressed in yellow and black; Hufflepuff colors.

Taylor joined the crowd. Security in numbers as they say. If they arrived late, it'd be most of the class and the professor would probably take pity on them, right?

As it also turned out, they didn't need to test the professor's pity. Penny knew shortcuts and pathways that avoided most of the pitfalls Taylor and Luna suffered in their journey away from the Great Hall. It took only three minutes at a brisk jog to arrive at the classroom. The gaggle of students filed inside, with Penny greeting everyone and even high-fiving a few others.

It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Mira and Harriet were already inside, sitting together in one of the many double tables. Taylor claimed a table for her own and Luna sat with her.

Penny, and most of the other students, sent strange glances toward Taylor, but whatever it was they found interesting, no one seemed willing to bring it up.

A low murmur of excited whispers filled the room. Taylor managed to get her breathing under control and wipe the sweat away from her forehead. She still felt icky under the robes and tired from running all the way across half the castle to reach the classroom, but she'd done it. She was proud of it.

The potions professor swept into the room with a dramatic swish of his black robes. It felt like he just appeared out of nowhere, but he had walked from a small door near the teacher's desk. The classroom door banged close, conversation died, and without even glancing at the students, the professor took the register.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but every word was clearly audible in the graveyard silence that had fallen over the class. He had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many—" he'd been sweeping his eyes over the children and stopped when on Taylor.

His face turned into a sneer, and he glided closer, looming over her.

"What is this?" The professor hissed.

Taylor opened her mouth, but was unsure what he was talking about. Across the room a few students sniggered. Luna was looking valiantly ahead.

"You think this class is a joke?" His disdain was almost palpable. "Ten points from Ravenclaw," he hissed on her face.

There were gasps from the children around. Some from hufflepuff looked amused, while others looked spooked. Ravenclaw kids were a mixed bag. A few looked sympathetic, but others looked angry: At her for losing points or at Snape for being a jerk, she wasn't sure.

It was so unfair. Taylor's mood turned, she hadn't even done anything. Her nostrils flared and she had to hold back some nasty words and more than a few nasty bugs.

From the top of her head, Nap hooted menacingly, spreading her wings, and all blood drained from Taylor's face.

"Get rid of it," the potions professor demanded.

"She's not an it," Taylor said before her brain could process the words.

"It is what I say it is."

"Then you're wrong." Taylor's voice was flat and unyielding.

"Detention," it was another hiss that silenced the murmuring kids.

Taylor scowled, prepared to defend herself, to argue, or do something. A gentle squeeze from Luna calmed her down.

Perhaps satisfied over his victory, or deemed it below his attention, the professor finished the introductory speech for the class. Taylor was too annoyed to really pay attention. It really wasn't fair.

"Hebert!" Professor Snape barked. "What is the precise effect of adding bundimun secretion to a base of boomslang skin, and why would any competent brewer never do so?"

Taken by surprise, Taylor took too long to think of an answer. It wasn't anything that had been explained in the potions manual (she'd really read it thrice), but she could connect the dots. One would dissolve the other and most likely cause an explosion.

She opened her mouth.

"You don't know, eh?" Snape mocked. "Name the ingredient that distinguishes a Calming Draught from a Draught of Peace, and explain why substituting one for the other would be catastrophic."

That one was another question that hadn't been explicit on the manual. It was just a guess, but the peace draught had a warning about it affecting the brain and the syrup of hellebore would make the effect stronger, and that could be fatal.

"Syr—" She started to say, but Snape interrupted once more, the sneer never leaving his face.

"Since someone thought they didn't need to read the books before classes started, I'll give you an easy one. What is the function of a bezoar and from which animal is it typically harvested?"

Poisons and the stomach of a goat. The answer popped up in her head fast and easy, but she could see in his eyes that he wouldn't let her answer. Taylor scowled and crossed her arms.

"Five points from Ravenclaw," he said. "Bundimun secretion is a powerful magical corrosive that eats through organic matter. Boomslang skin is a potent magical conductor used in transformation potions. Combining them creates an accelerating volatile reaction activating its magical properties unpredictably, risking an explosion or uncontrolled transfiguration effect on whoever is nearest."

He paced around the room.

"The distinguishing ingredient which appears in the Draught of Peace but not the Calming Draught is the syrup of hellebore. Substituting it incorrectly would matter because the Draught of Peace affects the nervous system at a deeper level. Getting the concentration wrong, or using it in the wrong base, risks sending the drinker into a permanent stupor rather than simply calming them."

Snape had returned to the front of the class, staring at the silent students along his beaked nose.

"A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat. It acts as an antidote to most poisons."

There was a moment of silence.

"Why aren't any of you writing that down?"

Things didn't improve after that. Snape grouped the students that weren't already sitting in pairs and ordered them to mix a simple potion to cure boils. He offered no explanation, no commentary on ingredients, no dos and don'ts, nothing at all.

Taylor pushed the broiling anger away from her chest. A quick check with the book, and a small discussion with Luna, they set to gather the ingredients from the cabinet, and prepare the potion. They divided the work thusly: Taylor would work the ingredients, making sure everything was in order according to the book and keeping the timings, while Luna did the actual mixing.

Meanwhile, the professor swept around in his long black cloak, looming over students, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising everyone. The words were harsh, unkind and more than one student burst into tears. Thankfully, Taylor didn't gather any additional attention from the professor, although the way he belittled every student only made her angrier.

Luna and Taylor's plan worked surprisingly well. There was one hairy moment when Taylor almost forgot to pull the cauldron out of the fire: her spy bugs on Hero-Harry and his gang had all died suddenly in one of the greenhouses, and the spike of pain in her head before the bugs died made her wince. Across the castle on the same side as the greenhouses, every bug she could feel picked up the echo of something screeching. Distracted by that ongoing development, Taylor missed the timing to remove the cauldron from the fire, but Luna picked up the slack, plucking the cauldron and its boiling soup away and tossing inside the last ingredient. Their potion ended up being almost exactly as described in the book.

Still, that didn't seem to please the potions master.

When the class ended, the man vanished every potion with disparaging comments of "rubbish, waste" and those were the kind ones. No one, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, managed to craft a potion to his standards. There were more than a few sniffles from the kids, most coming from the other Ravenclaw girls and a few of the hufflepuff students.

Taylor packed her parchment, quills, gloves, cauldron and marched out of the room. Or tried to. Snape was there to block her on the way out.

"You'll serve your detention at eight o'clock tonight, in my office." His voice was the same carrying whisper from the start of the day. "And if you ever think of bringing it again to my class, don't even bother showing up."

She left without answering.

Outside, her dorm-mates waited.

"He's worse than a strigoi," Mira said as soon as they were clear of the dungeons and far enough away that Snape wouldn't hear. Her voice had an odd accent. Clearly she wasn't from around here, but Taylor couldn't place the accent.

"He doesn't know how to teach," Harriet agreed. "I think he's the worst professor I ever had, and I went to muggle school."

"He's a bully," Taylor grumbled.

"Maybe he's lonely and sad?" Luna offered in her same dreamy voice.

Four pairs of eyes looked at her. Taylor walked closer and gave Luna a one armed hug, to which Luna leaned into. Mira looked unbothered and Harriet looked uncomfortable. Nap flapped her wings and nested on Luna's head.

After potions, they had history of magic. It was another class Taylor was excited about. She'd heard during breakfast it was taught by a ghost. There were so many things she wanted to ask them. The dourness from potions class chipped away with the growing excitement.

---

History of Magic class had been a disaster. In some ways, worse even than Snape's class. At least in potions class there was a practical segment. Professor Binns droned on in the most boring voice ever. Worse yet, he recited directly from the book. It was a waste of time. Taylor could read by herself just fine. Thankfully the ghost didn't seem to mind Nap attending class too, or maybe he hadn't even seen her.

Ten minutes into the class and Taylor had conked out. She had more interesting things to do than listen to a ghost drone on about something she already knew.

For the remainder of the History of Magic class free period, Taylor worked with Dum, and co. The first thing she did was migrate their temporary nest from the previous tower to Ravenclaw's tower where her dorm was. Easy access to her friends was paramount. She set them to create a nest under the conical cap of the tower. From what she could see, there wasn't any easier way to get there, the only hatch was locked and hidden in the ceiling of the room below, tucked under the decoration. The place was perfect. Large, out of the way, and a breeding ground for spiders, and now pixies.

The nest reconstruction finished at the same time Binns finished his boring regurgitation. For a moment, Taylor wanted to unleash her power, all at once. There were a lot of more classes happening at the same time, and here she was, stuck in a classroom wasting time. She pushed those urges away, filing it away for consideration later in the day. She liked the idea of listening ahead in classes, but she'd have to be smart about it.

Students filed out of the room and towards the great hall. This Wednesday morning had gone long enough and it was finally lunch time.

Taylor sat in the great hall adding food to her plate, still looking unhappy with the classes. It was a magic school. Why were the professors doing their best to kill all the magic?

"We have Charms with Gryffindor in the afternoon," Luna consoled.

Taylor bit into her food with more gusto than was necessary. One could only hope Luna was right.

 

[okashihime]

Taylor offered tribute to the feathery Royalty on her head, soon followed by more treats from Luna, Mira and a reluctant Harriet. It soon became apparent that magic school had a higher tolerance for the strange. Other kids from Ravenclaw also offered their tribute, all which Nap gobbled happily. Nap thrilled and even flapped her wings in what Taylor thought might be appreciation, although she'd have to be careful with that much food or Nap might get fat.

The image of a fat bird trying to fly and flailing miserably sent her into fits of giggles.

Pocket full of smuggled food, Taylor returned to the dorms to leave her potion and history supplies and get things for the charms class. She also took the opportunity to feed the workforce. Bity had started to buckle against her control wanting to take a bite out of Dum. Best nip that in the bud.

With her new nest and hive set up, Taylor started to migrate what she thought were useful bugs to the tower. There were many types of spiders and other critters she wanted some time alone with to examine and see what they were and could do.

Taylor tried to set up her expectations for the class with a very low bar, but didn't manage to control her excitement. There were so many cool charms in the book and the chance to learn them properly pushed away all the morning sourness. The brief contact she had with their professor in the morning was enough to at least hope the class would be magical, no pun intended.

Unlike potions class, charms wasn't difficult to find at all. It was close to the Ravenclaw tower, a corridor away from the tower entrance. That made things a lot easier.

The charms classroom was bigger when compared to Potions. There were rows of double tables spaced around, memorabilia piled against the walls, shelves filled with books and even more books piled where the teacher's desk should have been. It was vibrant and whimsical. It also had a warm, slightly cluttered academic feel, with bookshelves, candles, and various objects around.

Taylor approved of the place. What would she find among that many books? Secrets? Interesting stories? Mind bending forbidden truths?

They weren't the first to arrive: a group of Gryffindors were in the classroom already. Of the half dozen, two garnered Taylor's attention.

The first one was Ginny. She was smiling and gesticulating in broad movements; she fit very well in the gold and red colors. The second was a blond boy with shining blue eyes and an a wide, expressive mouth. He was carrying an old camera with a big flash unit attached to the side. The boy was taking pictures of everything.

Ginny made a beeline for them as soon as she saw them.

"Good afternoon, Ginny." Luna greeted.

"Would you believe it?" Ginny said in lieu of greeting. "My stupid brother convinced Harry to steal dad's car so they could come to Hogwarts. Doesn't Ron know that Harry could've gotten hurt? Or worse, expelled? What was he thinking?" She went on and on about her complaints. Clearly, she was still obsessed with the Potter boy, and maybe a tad fed up with her brother.

More students trickled in and in no time at all, the room was packed with bright eyed children.

Like the potions classroom, the charms professor office was near the 'teacher's desk'. Unlike Snape, Flitwick didn't swish dark robes or spoke like a brooding vampire, he hopped onto the pile of books, smiling.

"Welcome, welcome to charms class! Charms is the oldest branch of magic we know of. Long before potions, long before transfiguration, witches and wizards were charming things. A charm is an act of will made real. When you cast your first successful charm, you won't just be moving a feather or lighting a candle, you'll be doing what every witch and wizard before you has done, back further than memory goes.

"Some of you will find charms come naturally. Some of you will struggle at first. Both are perfectly fine. What matters in this classroom is not talent, talent is an accident of birth. What matters is practice, attention, and a willingness to make mistakes in front of others. I have been teaching for many years and I still learn something new every term. Magic rewards the curious.

"Now! I know some of you have already had a difficult morning." He beamed at them. "Charms class will be different. In this room, we celebrate mistakes because mistakes mean you are trying. The only thing I ask is that you pay attention, ask questions, and never — never — be afraid to say you don't understand. Are we agreed? Wonderful. Let's begin with a practical demonstration!"

The professor swished his wand ("Here it comes!"), and out of nowhere, there was a perch in the middle of the classroom. Another swish ("Up, up!") and the perch levitated away from the ground, gently moving toward Taylor. There was a third swish ("And down!") and the perch was by her table.

Taylor had stopped paying attention to the professor to watch the magic, and found it surprising that the man was now standing on her desk.

"You're magnificent, aren't you?" He said, offering Nap a treat. "But dear, you can't sleep on her head all the time, she's going to get neck pains when you're done growing up."

Nap somehow seemed to understand Flitwick; she hooted back.

"Yes, I know it is the most comfortable perch, but just a little while, let her rest while in class?"

Nap hooted again, flapped her wings and landed on the perch.

Taylor was left wondering what the heck had happened.

Class was magical in the best sense of the word. Flitwick was attentive, didn't mind questions and even encouraged active discussion and working together among students. Instead of starting with theory, Flitwick immediately had them learn their first charms spell.

"The levitation charm," he said, swishing his wand slowly and pronouncing the words very clearly.

"Wing-gar-dium Levi-O-sa"

Taylor realised then that she hadn't mastered the spell at all. Her levitation was barely passable when compared to the professor. Her wand work was sloppy, her pronunciation atrocious. It was a miracle the spell worked at all. A wide smile crept into her face without her even noticing it. Yes, this was a proper magic class.

"Now you try it!" Flitwick encouraged.

All around, wands waved, some forcefully, others sloppily. A few shouted, others whispered. Taylor pushed all that out of her head. There was no need to see how others were doing. She knew the spell, she could already cast it, now she just needed to perfect it. She visualized the wand movement, comparing what the professor had done and her own shoddy wand-waving. She repeated that until they looked like they matched. Then she whispered the words, putting the right emphasis on each correct syllable.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she whispered together with the improved wand movement.

The feather rose and rose, stopping where she wanted it to stop. It didn't bob and wobble like her levitation usually did.

"Marvelous!" Flitwick called out. "An almost perfect first try! Ten points to Ravenclaw!"

All around, students gawked. By her side Luna had a blinding smile. Ginny looked happy too, while Gryffindor 'first pick' Nneka Adeyemi kept switching between her own unmoving feather and Taylor's floating one. The blond boy with the camera, for some reason, snapped a shot, leaving Taylor almost blind with the flash of light.

A warm something bubbled inside her chest. It was almost enough to make up for the disaster that was the morning classes. Almost.

Among the renewed flurry of wand swishing and shouts, Luna's soft whispers landed on Taylor's ears. "Show me how you did it."

Taylor looked at her earnest friend's eyes and nodded, thinking the best way to explain her process. Which she did to the best of her knowledge.

Luna nodded along the entire explanation, the smile never leaving her face. "Very categorising of you," she said when Taylor finished explaining her visualization, how she saw each movement, and how she pushed into the words what she wanted the spell to do. It was, in the end, a cribbed explanation she'd read in the magical theory course book.

Her friend tried a few times, with each attempt, the feather remained unmoving and the frown on Luna's face grew.

"That won't do," said Luna at last. Then she swished her wand in a way that just vaguely resembled the wand movement, and chanted the spell like she was singing a song. The feather wobbled, rose an inch, then fell down again.

"How?" Taylor asked in disbelief.

Luna smiled serenely, "I asked the shimmerlings to help!"

---

By the end of class, Taylor had improved her wand-waving and pronunciation to the point Flitwick awarded her five more points for going the extra effort. Luna had also improved, even if somehow, it didn't look like her spell should work. Most of the students managed to levitate the feather in some capacity, with the ones that didn't being the ones which Flitwick encouraged and cheered the most.

Homework was to read the introductory chapters of magical theory, which would be the subject of the next class on Friday. For those who couldn't perform the levitation charm, extra practice was also added as homework since they would need to demonstrate the spell again on the next class.

Once class was over, they had a free period in the afternoon, but Taylor had a few other things to take care of: Namely, talk with the professor.

"Miss Hebert! Good gracious, that was some inspired spell casting! Where did you learn that?"

Taylor blushed a pretty shade of red. It was too much to think the professor wouldn't know she practiced ahead. "Practiced at home," she mumbled. "mum helped."

"Ah, but isn't your mother a muggle?"

Taylor nodded. "She remembered hearing the words from dad."

Flitwick's exuberance diminished a little. He nodded sadly. "Daniel, poor boy. It was a shame what happened."

But Taylor didn't want to talk about her dead dad she never met. She wanted to talk about classes and horrid professors.

"Professor, since you are the head of Ravenclaw house, I want to make a formal complaint."

Flitwick blinked, then nodded seriously. "Go on," he urged gently.

"Professor Snape is a bully, he shouldn't be teaching us. He's a horrid man and hasn't said a single kind word to any of us and he keeps insulting the other students all the time. You said mistakes are fine, but Snape took points for one and even called Pippa Rosewood names."

Flitwick blinked. Taylor wasn't sure if that was because it was news to him or because it surprised him to hear her say it.

"History of Magic is a waste of time. It was only the first lesson, but Professor Binns did nothing but read directly from the book. Not even asking questions about it helped, he just read again from the book to answer."

"I was expecting you to complain about the detention, or the lost points." Flitwick said, sounding distracted.

Taylor shrugged. After suffering through the first potions class, she could understand why Snape didn't want Nap inside his classroom, she even agreed in principle. She hadn't known owls weren't allowed and he could have just told her so instead of… that, but arguing with bullies after didn't help. Mum had told her many times, and she'd seen it first hand. No, what she wanted was a real potions professor who was willing to teach his students, instead of bullying them.

"I'll inform the headmaster," The charms professor said and Taylor took that as the dismissal it was.

Outside charms, Luna and Nap were still waiting.

"Did it go well?" Luna asked.

Taylor smiled. "I think so."

Luna fell into step beside Taylor, humming a song Taylor had never heard before. "What now?"

They had a free period and then dinner. Later that day Taylor had her detention and at midnight, her first Astronomy class, not to mention reading her mum's letter and writing back. The night didn't have enough hours, but she had a few hours to finally explore the magic castle.

"Now," Taylor said, not hiding the glee in her voice, "now we explore!"

She laughed out loud, maybe a tad maniacally, given how other students looked in her direction. It was all good though. It was a magic school, being a little strange was the norm.

 

[okashihime]

The corridors of Hogwarts had a way of rearranging themselves when you weren't looking, but having learned her lesson, Taylor moved through them with the confidence of someone who wasn't getting lost. And she wouldn't because she was cheating, with a bug trail.

Her explorations efforts had a method to the madness: she'd read enough about the castle in Hogwarts: A History to have a vague feeling on how things worked. She also had a gamut of knowledge on how magic was supposed to work from the many fantasy books she read before magic school became real. So, when she rounded a corner and found a suit of armor standing sentinel beside a tapestry, she stopped, planted her feet, and informed it in a clear, level voice that she would accept its challenge to single combat if it had one to offer, but in return, she wanted whatever secret it was guarding. The armor did not respond. Taylor took this as a sign of respect or that it didn't have any secret to lose and moved on. Luna trailed a half-step behind her, humming, occasionally reaching up to pat the wall as though encouraging it.

"This one's sulking," Luna observed, gazing at the armor ahead. "They do that in the autumn."

Taylor nodded as if that made sense, which to her it more or less did. There was no reason to discount Luna's opinion on things.

The portraits came next, a long gallery of them, and Taylor stopped at every third one to introduce herself and ask whether they had any quests, warnings, or cryptic advice to dispense. Most of the painted figures looked affronted, before pretending to be asleep. One stout wizard in plum robes told her to push off. By the time they reached the third floor she had verbally extended a tea-party invitation to two passing ghosts (one accepted; the other drifted through a wall mid-sentence, which Taylor decided was a polite decline), arranged an alliance to trade castle secrets with a portrait of a sleeping knight, and declared a particular staircase 'trustworthy' after watching it for nearly a full minute.

Luna found all of that perfectly reasonable, and said so after Taylor maybe forth sneaky glance to see her reaction to her antics. It was exactly the kind of solidarity Taylor had been hoping for in a friend. She was pretty sure Luna wouldn't judge if she found Taylor playing with bugs. Luna wasn't like the others.

Taylor afternoon of exploration ended up, maybe, with more adventure than she had been expecting. It started with ghosts, or a ghost (she'd later realise it was a poltergeist).

She had led Luna in a meandering path around the castle poking her nose into every interesting thing she could find. She offered more duels to suits of armors (none accepted), had chats with chatty portraits, and sneaked around nosy students. Up fascinating stairs and down curved corridors the duo went. Their destination was a classroom, with the posh looking wizard from the books, second year students, including Harry and his gang, and Cornish Pixies.

A lot of havoc wreaking pixes.

Taylor had noticed the cluster earlier in the day, but unwilling to spoil the surprise, made sure she wasn't paying attention to them. Knowing she'd have time later in the day to explore, it seemed a good opportunity inspect possible friends and see more of the castle.

The pixies, for their part, were having the time of their lives. A clot of electric-blue bodies zipped through the air, upending inkwells, knotting the curtains, and, with what Taylor could only interpret as real glee, suspending a very dignified-looking boy from a chandelier by the hood of his robes.

To anyone else it was a disaster.

And disaster invited more disaster.

Someone cackled, high, wheedling, delighted and unheard in the chaos of the classroom, and a squat ghost in a violently orange bowtie came corkscrewing down through the ceiling. The ghost took one look at the two first-years lurking in the corridor and peeking inside the classroom, clasped his hands together, and beamed the grin of a creature who had just been handed a present it did not have to wait for.

Taylor smelled the bully from a mile away, even if it was a dead bully. Still, she decided to try diplomacy first: She gave him a small, courteous nod, grabbed Luna's hand and without turning her back on the ghost, retreated.

That appeared to disappoint him, by the frown on his face. He followed them, going through walls and ceilings and paintings.

"Ickle firsties! What are you doing sneaking around?"

Luna waved at the ghost. "We're exploring! And you?"

The ghost's face split into a grin of the wicked and damned.

"No." Taylor said with all the conviction she could muster, even though she knew what came next.

The ghost only smiled wider. Then even more chaos ensued.

In the blink of an eye, he had messed up the whole corridor: the portraits were dangling, the hall was full of dust and dirt, the decoration scattered and broken, glass windows shattered and doors cast ajar.

"STUDENTS VANDALISING THE SCHOOL!" He bellowed. "STUDENTS DESTROYING THE CASTLE DOWN THE DEFENSE CORRIDOR!"

Taylor didn't wait to see what would happen, she ran, dragging Luna with her. Behind them, the ghost kept bellowing. She broke her own rule, watching from every single bug nearby for any place to hide or incoming pursuers, and not a moment too soon. Barreling from a nearby passage, came an old man preceded by his cat. She had heard of him during the lunch break, Argus Filch, the caretaker(who hated students more than Snape and doled out punishments like they were candies), and his cat, Mrs. Norris.

Getting caught was out of the question. She didn't want a second detention on the second day of school.

Filch stopped at the devastated corridor, his face split into a snarl. Mrs. Norris dashed the same way they had ran to, and Filch came hot in her wake.

They fled blindly across corridors, through doors with Taylor doing her best to avoid any other student, but Mrs. Norris wasn't making it easy to escape: the damned cat had a preternatural ability to follow them around.

Filch was gaining on them fast; and on the other side of the corridor just past the bend, waiting behind a wall and barely out of sight was the same ghost that started all this mess. They were out of options. Taylor was getting desperate.

She stopped at a stretch of blank wall. There was a passage behind it; she could feel the bugs nestled in the dark on the other side, but no matter how she pressed and prodded she couldn't find the seam, the catch, the trick of it.

"Open," she told it, shoving at the stone. "Open Sesame. Open, please!"

The wall did nothing.

"Help me look," she said to Luna, who began patting the stone with the serene diligence of someone soothing a nervous animal.

Mrs. Norris rounded the corner behind them.

Taylor grabbed Luna's hand and whisper-yelled "Run!", then sent a knot of flies straight up Mrs. Norris's nose and into her eyes. The cat yowled, crashed against the wall and stop chasing them. With one of her bigger bugs, a fat spider tucked into the room where the ghost lay waiting, and a few other fliers, she nudged a shard of pottery off the windowsill. It tumbled and shattered. The ghost spun toward the crash, and in the half-second his back was turned, Taylor and Luna bolted past.

They kept running until panting breaths turned into giggles then into laughter. They ran until they couldn't anymore. Taylor lay splayed on the blessedly cool floor, gasping and laughing. Luna had a special smile of her own.

"That was…" Luna started.

"Amazing!" Taylor laughed harder. "We should do that again!"

A quick look around to see where they'd ended up revealed some sort of trophy room. Curiosity prickling at the back of her mind, Taylor got up, checking the awards and old plaques.

Dumbledore had a slew of awards accredited to his name: Barnabus Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting, Gold Medal for Ground-Breaking Contribution to the International Alchemical Conference, Order of Merlin, First Class, among many others. McGonagall had awards too: Transfiguration Today Most Promising Newcomer, Head Girl. A Tom Riddle also contributed to the line up: Special Award for Services to the School, Medal for Magical Merit, Head Boy; what an overachiever.

Along the lines of Quidditch awards, a Jonathan Bubbly won The "Dangerous" Dai Commemorative Medal. A Charlie Weasley had a Star Seeker award, while a James Potter, a star Chaser.

Another Weasley, Bill, was a Head Boy.

Of the newest awards, some were credited to Gilderoy Lockhart: Order of Merlin, Third Class, and Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile five times. What did a charming smile have to do with spell-casting and teaching she didn't know, but an Order of Merlin seemed important enough.

What she didn't find was any award or trophy to any Daniel Hebert. It was to be expected. He went and died.

Taylor didn't notice Luna until she was by her side. Thankfully, she didn't ask questions.

"It's almost time for dinner." Taylor said, still looking at the awards.

"I hope there are peppermint humbugs today."

Taylor snorted.

---

While everyone was distracted eating dinner, Taylor had Dee and Dum sneak into the classroom with the trapped pixies and unlock the cage. It took a bit of finagling to unlock the cage, and if it wasn't for the absolute control of her power, the pixies would have wreaked even more havoc. They were nothing like Dee and Dum: they were wild and chaotic, and ready to cause mayhem. Instead, she guided them out and around corners, away from prying eyes and toward the nest.

The growing number of bugs in her hideout was shaping up nicely. There were twenty-seven different species of spiders, twenty-one different fliers, as well as a huge variety of crawlers and creepies.

After dinner, she bade farewell to her dorm-mates and marched toward punishment, but she was intercepted in the common room, by Penny again.

"Hebert," she said in greeting.

"Penny," Taylor nodded back.

"Professor Flitwick is going to administer your detention instead of Professor Snape. He's waiting for you in the charms classroom."

"Thank you," she said, unsure why things changed.

Penny gave her a playful shove, then returned to mingle with the older students.

Flitwick was waiting for her when she got there.

"Miss Hebert! Good on you for joining me!" He waved her inside, and purposefully toppled a stack of books. "Oh my, the room is a mess!"

Taylor stared at the professor, who winked at her.

"Well, go on and organize it. You may return to your quarters once you're done." And with that, he left, leaving Taylor on her own.

It took her about one minute to pile the books back again. Then she spent the next three and a half hours reading from every book she could grab. She even enlisted Dee and Dum's help. It was the best!

---

The night ended with a tired troupe of children marching down the Astronomy tower carrying telescopes and yawning. The lesson was fun. Watching and cataloguing the stars wasn't something Taylor had ever done, or thought she'd enjoy. It also helped that Luna had little stories and theories about each and every star in the sky. Taylor thought those were made up, but she didn't much care; they all sounded so interesting she wanted to hear more.

Very late in the night, while her dorm-mates were lost to Hypnos, Taylor finally grabbed her mum's letter and sat down to read it.