“Mr Muller and Mr Sheppard are out in the driveway waiting to welcome the Hogwarts students. They’ve told me not to try and make you do any work, just…don’t swing from the light fixtures or anything like that, and don’t make Mrs Doherty next door come in yelling about the noise you lot are making, she frightens me.”
 

“Ella and Corwin are old-school purebloods,” Georgia says. “You know, big mansions a hundred and fifty years old, generation after generation Sorted into the same house, don’t know how to drive a car…”

 

 “I love it here. It’s just safe and friendly and…nice.”
"Safe and nice is boring. I bet you guys do heaps of exciting things at Hogwarts.”
“Well, not really. We just go to classes, eat food, sit exams and play Quidditch.”

 In addition to Hogwarts preparation, Formal Fever is sweeping the school. The Year 12 and 13 Formal has been set for August 15, and I get the feeling the teachers are sick of their Year 12s being totally distracted by one thing or another.

 We cross in front of the teachers to the stool where the famed Sorting Hat is now singing.

Singing. The Placing Pounamu does not sing.

These Brits are outdoing us at every turn.

 “Come sit,” Lucy says, steering me towards a circle of plush red couches that are filled with people, most of whom I don’t recognise. We join Larissa on one couch – it’s a bit of a squish – and Lucy proceeds to introduce me to the boys sitting opposite us.

 “Now, just as a bit of revision,” Professor Rutherford continues, holding up a hand for silence, though it’s not exactly necessary – “We’re going to do non-verbal blocking practice. I know this is pretty basic stuff, but it’s always good to start off slow after a long holiday.”

Non-verbal? Basic?

We emerge out into Hogsmeade, and Henry takes my hand, which immediately increases my heart rate an unhealthy amount.

“You do know where you’re going, right?” I ask cautiously.