The Three Strikes
1: Welcome to Whately's
The chocolate frog almost reached the open window when a deft hand snatched it in midleap. The bearer of the hand, a eleven year old boy in dark robes, with a freckled face and hair cut in a mullet, held the struggling confection closer to his eye and tentatively bit off one hind leg. He smiled with a look of relief the inside wasn't bone and muscle, consumed the rest of the frog and licked the melted chocolate off his fingers. The boy felt eyes on him; looking in the terrarium to his side the toad within gave the boy a condemning stare.
"Don't give me that, I saw the shopkeeper feed you one of your smaller cousins and you didn't mind." He turned to the window, watching the forests of British Columbia pass by.
Sitting across from him were two other boys his age. One had blonde hair cut neatly, and a handsome face similar to a young prince William, on his lap rested a cage with a barn owl inside that exchanged glares with a caged rat sitting by the third boy, a mulatto with short dreadlocks.
For a while the three sat in silence, looking out the window. Finally the third boy turned to the first, "You hear about that Sirius dude breaking out?"
"Hear about it, " the blonde boy answered in an unmistakably British accent, "My mum moved us across the ocean and had me transferred here on hearing he was loose."
It took a moment for the three to realize they conversed but forgot to introduce themselves. The blonde boy went first, and introduced himself as Thurston Windsor (wincing when he said Thurston). The third boy reached out a hand and called himself Daniel Svarsgaard. The first boy shook Daniel's hand, "Joel McGruffry. It's actually Billy Joe but I call myself Joel to sound less like a rube."
Thurston laughed, "And I gripe about my name sounding too blue-blood! How about you be Thurston and I'll be Billy Joe?"
"How about," Daniel started "He be Joel and you be- Thirsty?"
Thurston and Joel giggled, "Thirsty. It'll give my mother conniptions. I LOVE it!"
They laughed until the train jerked upward and picked up speed, nearly falling out of their seats. Daniel, farthest from the window grabbed a handrail, "Have we been derailed?"
Thurston looked out the window, "We aren't just off the track, we're off the bleeding ground!" And indeed the land was falling away from them fast.
The snack trolley came past, the witch pushing it completely calm. Daniel held out a hand to stop her, "'Scuse me, but are we supposed to be airborne?"
Her eyes rolled, "Of course we are, don't they ever tell you first years?" She moved on past.
Joel turned back to his friends but the window caught his eye. By now the train had pierced the clouds and waiting behind the layer of vapours was-
It looked as if a mountain had been uprooted and hung on an invisible hook in the sky. On one face of the mountain was a plateau the size of a football (rugby) field and behind it was Whatley's Academy of Sorcery, which had been carved into the rock itself, there was even a station for the flying train.
The three were silent when the last car had stopped, they walked out on autopilot, not even getting their bags as the conductor elves took them to the first year dormitories. Older students told the first years to follow them to the great hall.
As the three boys walked Thurston's eyes darted looking at the murals and paintings that moved and looked back at him. Staring down from the ceiling were wizards in Puritan clothing opposite Native men in elaborate costumes and frightening masks.
Joel leaned closer to Thirsty's ear, "Shamen. There were some nasty power struggles with them in the past, ugly for everyone."
Thirsty was about to speak when four witches ploughed their way through the boys, three of them following another with bleach blond hair, who might have been pretty had her nose not stuck so high in the air the capillaries risked breaking.
Thirsty groaned, "My sister. Named Hero, which kind of fits as Mum keeps pointing out I should try to be more like her." He stared at Hero's new sycophants, "And she's already got a bunch of yes-witches."
The Great Hall was massive; it seemed to take up more space inside than out. Seven long tables faced an eighth that rested on a platform, where the faculty watched over. The older students took seats at the table designated for their year, then the first year students circled the empty table playing a little musical chairs before finally taking seats, those of newly formed cliques sitting together. Once everyone sat and the noise died down the Dean called for attention. Dean Mather was tall and wiry; he wore a light kimono decorated with bizarre creatures and a wig like the kind judges in muggle courts were associated with. On speaking his voice carried all throughout the hall yet seemed calm and civil, "Greetings first year students, and welcome back students of old. For you novices, know that the catacombs beneath the school proper are dangerous, and off limits to students unless supervised by a member of the staff."
A cigar-chomping goblin to Mather's right tugged the Dean's robe. Dean Mather leaned over and the goblin whispered in Mather's ear. Mather straightened up and spoke again, "And our defence against the dark arts teacher Professor Stryker would remind us, with Sirius Black on the loose, to watch out for any adults not of the staff or any signs of intrusion and report both to him immediately." Dean Mather sat down and plates and food materialized over all the tables.
Between mouthfuls Joel looked over the faculty table. Stryker glared over the tables, his robe in camouflage colours and sporting a crew cut his expression bellowed 'What is your major malfunction?'
To Mather's left sat a svelte woman with flowing hair and long, slender fingers. The plate in front of her was empty; rather she dipped three fingers into the clear goblet in front of her, and it looked as though the digits drank up the wine like straws.
To Stryker's right sat someone who looked like he belonged in a heavy metal band, flashy robe with exaggerated shoulders, a heavily made-up face and Elvis/Billy Idol lip curl. Something in Joel looked forward to hearing from this teacher.
The feast ended, a fifth-year student directed the first-years to follow him. They walked through corridors that looked alike save for different portraits whose subjects scrutinized them carefully. Eventually they reached a flight of stairs across from a door.
"Upstairs," The fifth-year pointed, "is the girls dormitory. Downstairs is the boys and there," gesturing to the door, "Is for any hermaphrodite students."
Joel, Thurston and Daniel gave each other weird looks, and were surprised to see several students head for the door. The others climbed up or down the stairs and the fifth-year looked at the three, "I suggest you get some sleep, you're going to be facing Stryker in the morning, you'll need your strength."
The three entered the dorm; found that their supplies had been placed before beds next to each other, which seemed a rather unlikely coincidence. They changed into nightclothes, turned off lights but struggled to go to sleep, fear and curiosity of the future conspired to keep them awake.
1: Welcome to Whately's
The chocolate frog almost reached the open window when a deft hand snatched it in midleap. The bearer of the hand, a eleven year old boy in dark robes, with a freckled face and hair cut in a mullet, held the struggling confection closer to his eye and tentatively bit off one hind leg. He smiled with a look of relief the inside wasn't bone and muscle, consumed the rest of the frog and licked the melted chocolate off his fingers. The boy felt eyes on him; looking in the terrarium to his side the toad within gave the boy a condemning stare.
"Don't give me that, I saw the shopkeeper feed you one of your smaller cousins and you didn't mind." He turned to the window, watching the forests of British Columbia pass by.
Sitting across from him were two other boys his age. One had blonde hair cut neatly, and a handsome face similar to a young prince William, on his lap rested a cage with a barn owl inside that exchanged glares with a caged rat sitting by the third boy, a mulatto with short dreadlocks.
For a while the three sat in silence, looking out the window. Finally the third boy turned to the first, "You hear about that Sirius dude breaking out?"
"Hear about it, " the blonde boy answered in an unmistakably British accent, "My mum moved us across the ocean and had me transferred here on hearing he was loose."
It took a moment for the three to realize they conversed but forgot to introduce themselves. The blonde boy went first, and introduced himself as Thurston Windsor (wincing when he said Thurston). The third boy reached out a hand and called himself Daniel Svarsgaard. The first boy shook Daniel's hand, "Joel McGruffry. It's actually Billy Joe but I call myself Joel to sound less like a rube."
Thurston laughed, "And I gripe about my name sounding too blue-blood! How about you be Thurston and I'll be Billy Joe?"
"How about," Daniel started "He be Joel and you be- Thirsty?"
Thurston and Joel giggled, "Thirsty. It'll give my mother conniptions. I LOVE it!"
They laughed until the train jerked upward and picked up speed, nearly falling out of their seats. Daniel, farthest from the window grabbed a handrail, "Have we been derailed?"
Thurston looked out the window, "We aren't just off the track, we're off the bleeding ground!" And indeed the land was falling away from them fast.
The snack trolley came past, the witch pushing it completely calm. Daniel held out a hand to stop her, "'Scuse me, but are we supposed to be airborne?"
Her eyes rolled, "Of course we are, don't they ever tell you first years?" She moved on past.
Joel turned back to his friends but the window caught his eye. By now the train had pierced the clouds and waiting behind the layer of vapours was-
It looked as if a mountain had been uprooted and hung on an invisible hook in the sky. On one face of the mountain was a plateau the size of a football (rugby) field and behind it was Whatley's Academy of Sorcery, which had been carved into the rock itself, there was even a station for the flying train.
The three were silent when the last car had stopped, they walked out on autopilot, not even getting their bags as the conductor elves took them to the first year dormitories. Older students told the first years to follow them to the great hall.
As the three boys walked Thurston's eyes darted looking at the murals and paintings that moved and looked back at him. Staring down from the ceiling were wizards in Puritan clothing opposite Native men in elaborate costumes and frightening masks.
Joel leaned closer to Thirsty's ear, "Shamen. There were some nasty power struggles with them in the past, ugly for everyone."
Thirsty was about to speak when four witches ploughed their way through the boys, three of them following another with bleach blond hair, who might have been pretty had her nose not stuck so high in the air the capillaries risked breaking.
Thirsty groaned, "My sister. Named Hero, which kind of fits as Mum keeps pointing out I should try to be more like her." He stared at Hero's new sycophants, "And she's already got a bunch of yes-witches."
The Great Hall was massive; it seemed to take up more space inside than out. Seven long tables faced an eighth that rested on a platform, where the faculty watched over. The older students took seats at the table designated for their year, then the first year students circled the empty table playing a little musical chairs before finally taking seats, those of newly formed cliques sitting together. Once everyone sat and the noise died down the Dean called for attention. Dean Mather was tall and wiry; he wore a light kimono decorated with bizarre creatures and a wig like the kind judges in muggle courts were associated with. On speaking his voice carried all throughout the hall yet seemed calm and civil, "Greetings first year students, and welcome back students of old. For you novices, know that the catacombs beneath the school proper are dangerous, and off limits to students unless supervised by a member of the staff."
A cigar-chomping goblin to Mather's right tugged the Dean's robe. Dean Mather leaned over and the goblin whispered in Mather's ear. Mather straightened up and spoke again, "And our defence against the dark arts teacher Professor Stryker would remind us, with Sirius Black on the loose, to watch out for any adults not of the staff or any signs of intrusion and report both to him immediately." Dean Mather sat down and plates and food materialized over all the tables.
Between mouthfuls Joel looked over the faculty table. Stryker glared over the tables, his robe in camouflage colours and sporting a crew cut his expression bellowed 'What is your major malfunction?'
To Mather's left sat a svelte woman with flowing hair and long, slender fingers. The plate in front of her was empty; rather she dipped three fingers into the clear goblet in front of her, and it looked as though the digits drank up the wine like straws.
To Stryker's right sat someone who looked like he belonged in a heavy metal band, flashy robe with exaggerated shoulders, a heavily made-up face and Elvis/Billy Idol lip curl. Something in Joel looked forward to hearing from this teacher.
The feast ended, a fifth-year student directed the first-years to follow him. They walked through corridors that looked alike save for different portraits whose subjects scrutinized them carefully. Eventually they reached a flight of stairs across from a door.
"Upstairs," The fifth-year pointed, "is the girls dormitory. Downstairs is the boys and there," gesturing to the door, "Is for any hermaphrodite students."
Joel, Thurston and Daniel gave each other weird looks, and were surprised to see several students head for the door. The others climbed up or down the stairs and the fifth-year looked at the three, "I suggest you get some sleep, you're going to be facing Stryker in the morning, you'll need your strength."
The three entered the dorm; found that their supplies had been placed before beds next to each other, which seemed a rather unlikely coincidence. They changed into nightclothes, turned off lights but struggled to go to sleep, fear and curiosity of the future conspired to keep them awake.
