Ant Acklin

by Jarnunvosk

Anthony Acklin grew up reading the Harry Potter books. He learns that magic is real, and he's a Nomaj-born wizard, just before turning 11. His troubles seem to be alleviated when he's accepted into Ilvermorny School. However, someone doesn't want Ant at the school, and will stop at nothing to force him out. Welcome to Ilvermorny, Ant Acklin. Hope you survive the experience.

1. The Ilvermorny Conspiracy: Chapters 1-7

Chapter One

The Boy Who Loved Books

Anthony Acklin was a boy like any other. His hair was a dark shade of brown that looked almost black when wet. His eyes were a sort of hazel that looked like chocolatey brown or forest green depending on the light. He had a slight build and was short for his age. He was a bit of a bookworm, maybe, but he loved running for the sheer joy of being breathless. He climbed trees just for the exhilarating sense of terror that came with not being able to climb all the way down, and instead jumping to safety. He loved swimming, holding his breath and diving to see just how long he could stay under. He loved to daydream, sometimes for hours on end, due to an endlessly creative imagination. And no matter how unliked he felt at home, he loved his family.

Anthony had three older sisters: Nicole, Frances, and Marie. Nicole was nearly five years older than him, at fourteen; although he'd turn ten in a few weeks, she'd be fifteen a few months after. Nicole didn't live with Ant. She was troubled, often bullying her younger siblings, and had gone to live with their mother after a fight with the children's stepmother, Mae. Despite Nicole's faults, Ant missed his oldest sister, although he did not miss her behavior.

Frances (never Fran) was, perhaps, the sister with whom Ant got along best. She was a few days more than three years older than him. Frances liked the same books as Ant, and often introduced him to new ones he hadn't heard of but grew to love all the same. Like Nicole and Ant, Frances resembled the children's mother, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. Also like Nicole, Frances was somewhat quick to fight, but unlike Nicole, she tended to aim her wrath outward. One of Frances's favorite pastimes was terrorizing an older boy who had once made the grave error of picking on Ant in front of her at school.

And although they were constantly at odds with each other, Ant also loved his sister Marie. Marie was shrewd, capable, and quite as bookish as Ant or Frances, but she also took after Nicole in some ways. Although not as much of a bully, Marie had a budding gift for manipulating people. Perhaps exacerbated by the golden blond hair, blue eyes, and exceptional good looks she had inherited from their father's family, Marie used her skills to slip out of trouble, often redirecting trouble onto Ant or Frances. After all, if Mae noticed money missing from her purse, and Marie insists she didn't take it, someone must have stolen it. And why not Ant? Boys will be boys, after all.

And Ant loved Mae and his father, Tony, in spite of their own faults. Tony might be drinking or drunk most of the time he was home, and he might have very little tolerance for anyone not like himself, or whose ideologies varied from his own, but he worked hard to provide for his children, and none of them had ever known hunger, even if they weren't exactly rich. The religious Mae, divorced from her first husband (a preacher) and forced to move to the opposite end of the country without her own daughters, might take out her frustrations on the kids, and Ant especially, but Ant knew that her influence made his father a better person, and her strict rules and arbitrary punishments were born from a place of love, even if that made them no easier to bear. Because of the love he bore for her, and the effort she gave, it was Mae he called "Mom", rather than the children's biological mother, Joanna.

It was a blustery, overcast, cold winter day in Las Vegas when, coming home from the nearby park with Frances and Marie, Ant noticed a man in a car following them. The man was young, with short dark hair parted on the right and combed back. His pale face was frozen in a look of intent concentration, although his eyes were covered by dark sunglasses. He wore a blue suit with a dark red tie. As he realized Ant had noticed him, he rolled up the window of his car and picked up speed, passing the kids and disappearing around a corner. He didn't tell his sisters, but brought his hands up to his ears, pink in the frigid wind, and suggested they get home a little faster.

It wasn't a long walk back to the apartment where the Acklins lived. It was warm inside, and the kids shucked off their coats and shoes, hanging the coats in the small closet near the front door and placing their shoes on a small rack on the other side of the door. Rubbing fingers and ears for warmth, Ant made sure to shut the door quickly, but quietly behind him; it wouldn't be smart to upset his parents by leaving the door open too long, or by slamming it. His father was watching the television intently; there was a football game on. Ant knew that his father's favorite team would be playing in a few hours, but Ant's father was the type to watch a game even if he hated both teams playing. At a desk on the far wall, Mae tapped away on her computer's keyboard. Neither adult made any sign they had noticed the kids coming in.

The apartment was, in truth, rather too small for five people to live in, with only one bedroom and one bathroom. The front door opened onto the living room, which had enough space for the couch, on the left wall when facing away from the front door, a coffee table in front of it, the television mounted on the wall opposite the couch, and a desk on the wall opposite the front door and the windows to its left. There was a small closet to the right, then an entrance to the kitchen, which also had space for a small dining table with four chairs around it. Knowing better than to walk in front of the TV during football, the kids entered the kitchen, which also exited into the hallway on the opposite side of the living room.

While his sisters went about their own business, Ant approached Mae timidly. He stood there, not interrupting, but waiting for her to address him. After a few moments, she did so, eyes still on the screen. "We're a little hungry…" Ant started, but she interrupted him.

"Don't you know how to feed yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ant said evenly, afraid to sound impatient or patronizing. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay to use the stove, 'cause the girls were talking about making ramen. And, uh, to see if you wanted some."

At this, Mae finally looked away from the computer. Briefly, the look on her face was stricken. It was clear to Ant that she regretted snapping at him. Then her lips spread in the barest smile, and she said, "Yes, please." She patted Ant on the shoulder and turned back to her computer monitor.

Ant returned to the kitchen and began preparing the instant noodles, thinking all the while. He had never been apologized to by his parents, not even in situations like the one that had just occurred, where he knew that far more than an apology would swiftly follow if he had spoken to anyone like that in front of his parents. He wasn't angry about it but had long since accepted that this treatment was part of his life. To an extent, his sisters got it the same, but Ant had heard his parents apologize to them at times, and they often went out of their way to accommodate the girls. Ant noted while turning up the heat under the pot of water he had placed on the largest burner of the stovetop that the girls were far comfortable asking for what they wanted than he was.

While the water boiled, Ant went into the hallway, pulling a plastic tote box from the floor of the lowest shelf there. Contained within this box were Ant's most prized treasures: some old toys that had been given to him by a friend before the family had moved to Vegas, a plastic tub of Lego bricks, and a motley assortment of books. Of these, his favorites, by far, were the box set of paperback Harry Potter books. The set of books had been a Christmas gift from his grandparents, first unwrapped and joyfully clutched to his chest only four days prior. In that time, Ant had speedily reread his way through the first three. Now was as good a time as any to start rereading the fourth, he thought. As he sat down, Marie entered the kitchen and began to stir and poke at the water on the stove, glaring at it as if her eyes could make it boil faster. Ant began reading, and he had time to finish the first chapter of the book before he noticed Marie approaching the kitchen table with a bowl of noodles held carefully in both hands, and a spoon in her mouth.

Ant got up, gathering three bowls from one cabinet and three spoons from a drawer, then ladled the soup into the top bowl on the stack. When it had a good amount in it, he carefully lifted the bowl and one of the spoons and carried them out to Mae. When he came back, there was only one bowl and spoon left; Frances sat at the table with her own bowl. As Ant re-entered the kitchen, she looked up from her bowl and thanked him. Ant served himself and returned to his book, carefully eating with his favored left hand while holding the book a safe distance away from any of the bowls with his right. He barely got through the first page when a loud voice right next to him made him jump.

"Put that damn book away while you're eating!" Mae cried out.

Ant got up, stammering, "Yes, ma'am," and began walking with the book back to the hallway as his father, oblivious to the events in the kitchen fifteen feet from him, gave a loud roar of pleasure as one team scored a touchdown. Ant inspected the book lovingly as he walked, desperate to be sure he hadn't spilled any liquid on it when he jumped. The book was dry. Ant had not yet pulled out the tote box to return the book safely to its box with its ink-and-paper siblings when there came a firm, polite, but loud knock at the front door.

Chapter Two

The Invitation

Ant remained in the hallway, book in hand, while Mae went to answer the door. His father had not turned down the television despite the presence of a visitor. Ant heard the door opening, followed by Mae's voice, saying "Can I help you?"

The voice that responded was deep and lustrous, with a pronounced British accent that Ant had only heard in movies previously.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. My name is Terrence Boot. I work at Ilvermorny School, and I've come to speak with you and your husband about the possibility of your son attending our institution." Following this announcement was sudden silence, as the TV was finally muted. Mae repeated Terrence Boot's words to Tony, who Ant could see rise from the couch to greet the man at the door. A moment later, Mae called for Ant to "get out here", so he did, forgetting to set down the book as he hurried to obey.

When he stepped into the living room, he saw his sisters in the kitchen entrance, watching the handsome British man at the door, as well as Mae closing the door behind Terrence, who glanced around the room, disguising a look of dismay as he did so. Then Ant and Terrence locked eyes, and Ant recognized him as the man from the car, who had been following him. Terrence looked down at the book in Ant's hand, and his face visibly lit up.

"A rather good book you've got there," the man said. "One of your favorites, is it?"

"Yes, sir," Ant responded. The words were strange in his mouth; while Mae insisted that the children use sir or ma'am when speaking to adults, Tony didn't care for it; as a result, the kids only called him "sir" when asked a direct "yes or no" question in front of Mae. Tony felt that there were better ways to show respect than to call someone "sir".

Terrence smiled, nodding, then said, almost as an aside, "It'll certainly make things easier."

Ignoring this, Mae asked Terrence, "Where exactly is your school?"

Terrence spun to face her, somewhat dramatically. "Glad you asked, Mrs. Acklin. Ilvermorny is a private school in Massachusetts. If you'll allow young Anthony here to attend, his position there is guaranteed for the next seven years. There is no tuition, although Anthony will be required to buy his own school supplies, some books, and his school uniforms. I believe the full list costs around, ah, two hundred dollars per year."

"A private school that doesn't charge tuition?" Ant asked when a few seconds had passed in silence.

Terrence turned back to me, smiling still. "Sharp mind there, Mister Acklin. Ilvermorny doesn't charge tuition because it is fully funded by other means. There are some donations from alumni, some from the government. Rest assured, it is a, ah, top-notch education. There's not a school to rival it on this side of the Atlantic," he said, nodding at the book in Ant's hand. At this, Ant simply looked down at the book for a brief moment, confused.

Terrence paused a moment before he continued speaking. "Please, ma'am, have a seat." He gestured to the couch beside Tony Acklin. Mae passed Terrence and sat down.

"Anthony is guaranteed a place at Ilvermorny because he was accepted into the school at birth. Ilvermorny is a school of magic-" (Ant's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened) "and Anthony is a wizard." Ant gasped audibly, and the silence exploded into noise.

"This is some kind of bull-" (Tony used a word Ant knew better than to repeat) "scam. That (he repeated the word) isn't real."

"The Bible says 'thou shalt not suffer a-'" Mae interjected.

"I read those books first, it should be me!" shouted Marie.

Frances and Ant were silent, but their faces didn't bear the same expressions. Ant was doubtful, confused, and above all afraid to become excited about this: he felt certain that it would be torn from him. Frances was just shocked and seemed angry at her parents' and sister's reactions.

"Please, please, I can address your concerns if you'll just hear me out!" Terrence said loudly over the continuing noise.

The short silence that followed was broken first by Tony Acklin. "Magic," he spat out through clenched teeth, "isn't real. You're here trying to sell something, or pull one over on us, or…"

In response, Terrence raised both hands, palms outward, and said, "I assure you, I have nothing to sell and no intentions but to invite Anthony to study at Ilvermorny. And magic is most definitely real." He reached into his suit jacket with his right hand and pulled out a slender length of wood. It was very dark, nearly black, with what appeared to be a spiral of laurel leaves in a lighter shade of brown from base to tip. With a flick, the coffee table rose off the floor, spun slowly in a full circle, then lowered itself to the floor with a barely audible thud.

Terrence turned to Marie. "As for you, my dear, I'm sorry to say that not everyone is born to magic. Had you been born a witch, you'd have been welcome at Ilvermorny as well. Mug- I mean, Nomaj-born wizards are exceptionally rare in the States as it is, due to Rappaport's Law. It's possible you have a wizarding ancestor, but magic is not, shall we say, a dominant gene."

Last, he turned to Mae. "The Bible was written by men who feared anything that differed from their narrow worldview. It tells women not to speak, ignores known fact in pursuance of requiring its adherents to obey unquestioningly, and gives instructions on the proper ways to sell your daughters into slavery. I don't much think it serves as a great basis for moral living." He peered at her closely as she opened and closed her mouth, waiting for the words to defend her chosen book. He headed her off by speaking again. "Besides, there are many wizards who believe in Christian teachings. At Ilvermorny, your son is likely to have the same amount of exposure to religion that he would at a Mug- I mean, nomaj school.

Mae found her voice at last, grabbing whatever objects were within reach and hurling them at Terrence, shrieking "Hypocrites and Jesus haters! You're the Anti-Christ! Be gone from here, Satan!" Dodging the heavy glass ashtray that flew at him to clunk unbroken against the wall and using his wand to freeze in midair the (filled) coffee mug that followed, Terrence spun for the door. It flew open as if of its own accord, and he stepped out of it as a bowl of hot soup followed, shattering as it hit the door and spraying hot soup at Marie and Frances, who stood nearest.

Ant had known he would not be allowed to go learn magic, even if he was a wizard. Despite his attempts to convince himself of this, the actual fact of it struck him hard. He turned back into the hallway, putting his book back in its slipcase tenderly. Tears filled his eyes as Ant retreated into the bedroom, his parents' bedroom, and lied down on the floor on the far side of the bed, facedown on his arms, and sobbed silently.

Chapter Three

The Scholarship

Ant had, perhaps, half an hour of uninterrupted sorrow before he heard someone enter the bedroom. Mae spoke, and her voice was harsh. "Get your ass up. You still have chores to do before bed." In the time it took Ant to look around to her, she had already left the room. He pushed himself up, wiped his bleary eyes, and looked around the room. His eyes caught a flash of motion from outside – someone was standing near the window, pulling away when he realized he'd been seen. Ant was sure it was Terrence Boot.

Ant made his way to the bathroom, where he washed his face and gently patted it dry with the soft hand towel hanging opposite the sink. He looked in the mirror. His eyes, at the moment a dark shade of green, were slightly puffy and looked a bit bloodshot. It wouldn't do to be seen crying; he'd be given something to cry about. He splashed cool water on his face again, then dried it off with the towel a second time. When he looked back at the mirror, he was sure it had helped, because his eyes seemed less red and puffy. He took a few deep breaths then exited the bathroom. He could hear the football game on again, and he thought it had been turned up louder.

He made his way into the kitchen, where his bowl of cold noodles sat congealing on the table. Ant wasn't hungry in the slightest now. He poured the bowl into the trash can, which wasn't quite full. He looked around for other items he could throw away, and he ended up emptying the bathroom trash can into the main one, so it would be full enough to justify taking out to the dumpster behind the building.

Ant tied off the trash bag and carried it to the door, pausing only to pull a jacket out of the closet. Then he walked quickly around the back of the building, tossed the bag into the dumpster, and continued around until he came face-to-face with Terrence Boot.

"I'm so sorry about that-" Boot began, but Ant interrupted him.

"I can't live with knowing I could have studied magic and being stuck in this house. And I doubt I'd survive long anyways with Mae doing her best to stomp the magic out of me."

Boot's eyes widened in shock. "Do you really think so? No, I can tell you're probably right. It's just a question of how to resolve this peacefully. MACUSA policy is to give you the information directly and to have you convince your parents of the importance of learning to control your magic… but I can see how that would go poorly here." He sighed heavily and turned away from Ant. "I'm going to have to ask Professor Hicks how to proceed with this. I may need a day or two," he said embarrassedly.

"Can't you use a memory charm? Make them forget?"

"Goodness, those Potter books have given you quite the early education, haven't they? But I'm afraid not. At least, I should say, without permission. But considering that your mother-"

"Stepmother."

"Considering that your stepmother is barely a step away from being a Scourer, I'm sure they'll allow it. I just need permission first."

"Hurry, please, I don't know what it's going to be like in there now that they know I have magic."

"I'll do my best. But if you should somehow convince them, I'll need some kind of sign. Is this a task you perform every day?" He gestured to the dumpster. Ant nodded. "Then I'll send my owl here as soon as I can. Let me know by this time tomorrow whether you've convinced them, and I'll return to discuss your school things."

With that, Terrence revolved on the spot and vanished with a crack.

The next twenty-four hours were, somehow, simultaneously the best and worst in Ant's life. Mae was on the warpath; nothing he did was tolerated. He was grounded for loitering outside so long, "No doubt," Mae said, "trying to beg that demon-worshipping freak to come back." When Ant tried to bring up the possibility of going to Ilvermorny, Mae rounded on him like lightning and slapped him, hard, in the face. When tears welled up in his eyes, she grabbed his chin. "One tear falls, and I'll give you something to cry about."

Ant blinked furiously trying to make the tears ago away. He was forcibly reminded of a time, almost a year previously, when he had been accused of stealing something from a friend's house. The truth was that the item hadn't been stolen, but mislaid, and when the friend found it, he had covered up his mistake and refused to admit that nothing had been stolen. Mae had decided that Ant was guilty and had resolved to make an example of this situation to ensure he never stole again. The punishment that followed had been, as Ant had guessed, harsh. Grounded for months, regular whippings with a belt and being forced to write sentences – a wordy, multi-line run-on that might have been a paragraph if properly punctuated, a thousand times. And in his memory stuck the last of the belt whippings from that punishment, in which Mae had somehow cut her arm on Ant's wristwatch. Rather than stop to stem the flow of blood, the sight of her own blood, the pain of the cut, seemed to send her deeper into rage. Ant was grateful that none of the cuts from the belt that day had left permanent scarring.

Even so, he wondered now if the cut Mae had received was from his watch – which, after all, didn't really have any sharp edges – or if he had somehow done so with magic, as a defense mechanism. If it was, he knew he couldn't allow it to happen again. If he was magical, he needed to use it to protect himself, but not to attack.

He blinked one last time, and this time, his eyes were dry. There were no tears running down his cheeks, despite the pain as Mae held his chin tight, angling his face up to her own. "Yes, ma'am," Ant responded, somewhat late, and when Mae saw he wasn't going to cry, she released his chin rather forcefully. Ant stumbled backwards. He waited until Mae had turned away from before rubbing his sore chin, then began to help his sisters clean the kitchen before dinner.

Even this became unpleasant rather swiftly, as Marie treated him with unwonted venom. Carrying a small stack of bowls and plates, Ant stumbled over Marie's foot as she stuck it out behind her into his path. He fell to the floor, one of the plates shattering, sending shards of broken porcelain throughout the kitchen. Marie yowled in pain. Ant pushed himself up, realizing detachedly that he had picked up a number of porcelain splinters and shards along the way, then moved over to the dining table, where he sat with his bloody hands on the tabletop.

When Mae came rushing into the kitchen, Marie pointed a finger at Ant and began crying and shouting, "He k-k-kicked me, then threw the puh-puh-plate on the floor and it broke and…" she broke off, sobbing. While Ant suspected the pain was imaginary, her tears, pouring fast and heavy from her blue eyes, were certainly real.

"Go rest on the couch, honey, I'll get you an ice pack."

Ant opened his mouth to protest, and Mae rounded on him, hand raised. Ant threw his hands up to block his face, which was still sore from the last slap he had received. Mae let out a gasp of rage that he dared try and block her but couldn't seem to move her arm any nearer despite visibly struggling. At least, she wrenched her arm free of whatever held it and moved closer to Ant, grabbing one arm to force it down while her other hand raised to hit him again, stopped only by an interrupting cry:

"What the hell are you doing?" Both Mae and Ant turned in shock to face Frances, rage in her eyes, pouring out like sparks. She stood at the far end of the kitchen, having backed away from the remnants of the broken plate.

"Watch your mouth or you're next, young lady."

"No! She tripped him, she did it on purpose, he's got glass in his hands from the plate she made him break, and YOU'RE PUNISHING HIM?!" The last three words came out as a shriek that was audible over even the football game. "All he did wrong was get invited to some magic school and you're acting like he did that himself! He didn't do anything to deserve getting grounded or slapped the first time and he definitely didn't do anything to deserve it again!"

By this time, Tony had entered the room behind Frances, drunk enough by now that his eyes were slightly unfocused. He looked between Frances and Mae, and it occurred to Ant that Tony was probably afraid that this, here, was the beginning of another family-shattering fight between his wife and one of his daughters. He made to step between them but jumped back before putting his weight into the step that would have filled his foot with tiny porcelain daggers. His gaze seemed to sharpen, and he looked from the glittering shards of plate on the floor to Frances shaking with anger, to Mae grasping one of Ant's arms tightly, to the blood silently dripping from Ant's upraised hands onto the table.

Tony left the kitchen, walking around to the other entrance to come closer to Ant, brusquely moving past Marie, who had stayed in the kitchen entryway to watch the events unfold after being told to rest. Mae released her vice grip on Ant's arm and moved to fetch a broom, sweeping the glass into a pile in the center of the room while Frances retreated out of the kitchen. Tony inspected his son's hands closely, carefully removing the largest pieces of porcelain. Ant noticed the pain for the first time as the pieces were removed, a sharp stinging that covered the entirety of both palms. Within a few moments, Frances sat at the table as well, wielding a pair of tweezers in one hand and a large, shallow bowl of warm water in the other.

Tony stepped aside as Frances began the work of removing the shards and slivers from Ant's hand, dropping them on the table and having Ant rinse his hands off in the bowl to allow her to see the porcelain more clearly.

"Thanks," Ant whispered shakily as the water became tinged with pink.

"No problem," Frances whispered back. "Just promise me you'll do whatever you can to go to that school."

Ant nodded. "I will."

"Ant. You can't be a wuss about it. You can't let them shout you down or slap you into silence. You need to fight for what you want." She looked around at Mae, now kneeling to sweep the pile of porcelain onto the dustpan. "I saw what you did. You used your magic to hold her arm back."

Ant blinked. Whatever barrier he had made had only lasted a few scant seconds, but yes, it had given Frances enough time to come to his rescue. He only hoped he wouldn't need to do so again.

The next morning, Ant was sharply nudged awake shortly after five. He was sleeping on the floor, nearer the window of the living room. Marie slept on the couch. The coffee table was rotated to be perpendicular to the couch, and Frances slept on the floor on the other side of it.

Mae stood over him in the semi-darkness. "Get your jacket and shoes on and come outside."

Ant rubbed his eyes, then pulled on his shoes, not bothering to go find socks, then pulled open the closet to pull out his jacket. He stepped outside and the bitter cold snapped at his nose, cheeks, and ears. He wished he'd grabbed a hat too. He saw Mae in the parking lot, standing over something squat and rounded in the pre-dawn gloom. She held something in her right hand that poured liquid into the round object. As Ant approached, he realized that the round thing was a small coal grill, and the thing in her hand was a container of lighter fluid. And in her left hand, he saw a book of matches.

She sat the lighter fluid down, lit one of the matches, and beckoned him closer. He let out a scream of shock and horror as he looked into the grill and saw, not charcoal, but his beloved books. Before he could rush forward and save his sodden treasures, Mae dropped the match dead-center onto the top book, the fourth Potter book, its new binding torn and bent, blackening as flames danced across it. Shock turned to anger, and as Ant's anger rose, the flames roared higher with it, a tongue snapping out at Mae's sleeve. Mae rushed toward Ant instead, possibly sensing the connection between him and the flames that had come so frighteningly close to her, and slapped him again, harder than she had the night before.

"I will not have that devilry in my home and I will beat it out of you if I have to." She pulled her arm back again to deliver another slap, but found her arm held back an invisible force once more. She raged at it, screaming curses at Ant for daring to use his freakishness against her again, at last aiming a kick at him that would have connected, had that same invisible force not caught the leg in time, as well. But Ant was just as bewildered as she was.

"I would not do that, were I you," the British voice came lilting out of the shadows.

"Let go of me," Mae hissed. Sensing that he would not, she drew in a deep breath, preparing to scream –

"Silencio."

- but when she released that breath, it came silently. She couldn't make any sound at all. With a flick of his wand, Terrence released her from the spell holding her arm and leg in place, and, overbalanced, she fell to the ground silently. She stood up quickly, but the instant Terrence saw her move towards Ant, he flicked his wand again, uttering, "Petrificus Totalus," And she went as rigid as a board. Terrence flicked his wand again, catching her as she began to fall and returning her to an upright position.

He addressed Ant now. "Professor Hicks insisted I come right back, said you were probably in danger." His eyes looked sad as had inspected Ant's face. "It appears I never should have left you unprotected, and for that I'm sorry." He knelt, taking both of Ant's hands in his left, and began quietly chanting, almost singing, and tracing his wand over the cuts in Ant's hands. A few miniscule flecks of porcelain popped out of a couple wounds before they closed.

Inspecting his work, he smiled at Ant and said, "I understand you produced a Shield Charm last night. I'm sorry I left you in that situation, but I can't deny you've impressed me. That should have been well beyond your ability. Now give me a moment while I deal with her." He jerked his head at his captive audience.

He pointed his wand at Mae and, screwing up his face in intense concentration, said, "Obfusciate." Nothing happened at first, but then Mae's eyes rolled in her head, and when they returned to normal, her eyes looked oddly blank, as though she were sleeping with her eyes open.

Terrence looked at the grill containing my beloved books, and muttered, "Evanesco. Don't worry, Anthony, I'll replace those books." For when he said the first word, the contents of the grill had vanished. "Can't have her suspecting something."

He turned to address Ant again. "I've been given permission to alter your family's memories of yesterday. They will not remember me coming over but will instead remember yesterday as a boring Sunday in which the only event of note was the football game on the telly. They'll not know you're a wizard. I will return in a few hours to inform them…"

Twenty minutes later, Ant locked the door behind Terrence and settled back onto his pallet of blankets on the floor. Terrence had walked him through the plan then modified the memories of each member of the family. He not only changed the events of the previous day, but had also inserted a memory that, some months ago, Ant had applied for a scholarship to a prestigious college prep school in New England with parental consent.

At nearly seven, Ant decided there was no point trying to sleep and decided to busy himself on tasks that would put his parents in a good mood. First, he folded his blankets and put them and his pillow on their shelf in the hallway cupboard. Ant knew how to make their coffee the way they liked it, so next he prepared the coffee machine but did not start it yet – he didn't want to anger them by waking them too soon. He set the oven to preheat, then put away the dishes that had been washed the night previous – including the plate that Terrence had repaired with a flick of his wand.

"Not a trace of yesterday should remain," he had said. Ant thought of the books in his tote box, the ones Terrence had conjured with a twirling wave. They were nearly identical to the ones Mae had burned, if a little too new – they didn't have the spine-creasing that came of being read even once. Ant was sure that no one would notice though, since only he would have known his books so intimately.

He continued busying himself in the kitchen. He put biscuits on a baking tray to await the oven; he pulled out eggs and flour and breakfast sausage. And when the clock read 7:45, he began cooking in earnest. The biscuits went into the oven, the sausage into the heated saucepan on the stove. As the sausage cooked, Ant added flour and milk. It was a comfort food recipe his grandmother had loved, and taught Tony, who had in turn taught his children. As he started the coffee machine, Ant saw movement out of the corner of his eye and jumped. But it was only Frances, coming to help him cook.

She turned on the burner next to his and began preparing the eggs. Ant smiled sadly at her. He had wanted to let her keep the memories of the previous day, but Terrence had insisted it would only make things more difficult, and that Ant would have plenty of opportunities to tell her the truth later.

Frances saw the look on his face and asked, "What?" quizzically.

Ant shook his head, whispering, "I just felt like doing something nice. Thanks for helping." While he made the gravy, she cooked the eggs. It wasn't long before the smell of breakfast brought the whole apartment to wakefulness. Mae came into the kitchen and began pouring coffee for herself and Tony. Ant piped up, "Good morning," as she entered the kitchen.

Mae still seemed a bit blank, for it took her almost ten seconds to reply "Good morning" before carrying the coffees into the living room. When Ant made plates for his parents and took them into the living room, he saw Marie waiting expectantly for her food, despite the rule that the kids ate at the dining table. Ant made her a plate (because it would seem rude not to) but placed it on the dining table and called for Marie to come eat. She took her food back to the couch, but Ant and Frances ate at the dining table. They knew that if they followed, the rule would suddenly be enforced, and that Mae's and Marie's moods would take an instant turn for the worse, and that Marie had a gift for making others' good days into bad ones.

The kids left home around ten to go to the same park they'd gone to the day before. Ant had suggested it, because his parents were likely to be in a better mood if they could have time alone, without children underfoot in the small apartment. Terrence said he'd be back at one, so Ant did his best to keep his sisters at the park until fifteen minutes before. There was a large structure at the playground, a squashed-looking hemisphere about eight feet in diameter and five in height, made of metal bars in a pattern of hexagons and pentagons, like a soccer ball. Ant invented a variant of tag on the spot, where one person climbed the outside of the structure trying to tag those clinging to the inside of it. If those on the inside touched the ground, they were "it". This kept them at play long after his sisters got bored of the swings, until at last Ant saw it was a quarter to one and announced that he was hungry. Flushed, hands stinging from climbing the cold metal bars, they made their way home.

As yesterday, the kids made ramen for lunch to recover from the cold. Ant ate his noodles rather quickly, not having distracted himself with a book, and sipped at the hot broth while keeping an eye on the stovetop clock. The instant the digital display changed from 12:59 to 1:00, there was a crisp knock at the door.

Ant was seated closest to the door, so he answered it. Terrence stood there in a different suit, this one a rich, deep blue with cranberry trim, a cranberry-colored tie, and a pocket handkerchief in a blue-and-cranberry plaid. "Hi, how can I help you, sir?" Ant asked politely.

"Hello, you must be Anthony!" Terrence said, shaking his hand. "My name is Terrence Boot, and I'm here representing the Massachusetts College Preparatory School. We've reviewed your application and decided to send someone to your home to discuss it with your parents directly. Are they home at the moment?"

"Yes, sir," Ant said enthusiastically. Then he turned to face the living room and said, "Mom, Dad, there's someone here about that scholarship I applied for at the beginning of the school year!"

Tony turned off the television and rose, coming to the door. "Tony Acklin," he said, reaching out a hand. Terrence shook it and introduced himself, then introduced himself to Mae, saying, "Charmed, Mrs. Acklin."

Terrence pulled out an official-looking letter. He passed it to Ant, saying, "Go ahead, my boy, open it."

Ant read the envelope. It said it was from the Massachusetts College Preparatory School, all right, and it had a printed crest featuring a Celtic knot pattern and an address for the school on it. It was addressed to him. He tore the envelope carefully, extracting the letter. "Dear Mr. Acklin, we at MCPS are…" He paused, looking at his parents for dramatic effect, "pleased to inform you that your application to attend our school, as well as your application for financial tuition assistance, have been accepted." There was more information about textbook costs and fees, so he handed the letter to his father, beaming. Tony perused the list of charges that would not be covered by "financial assistance".

"Oh, congratulations, son!" Mae cried out joyfully. She stepped forward and hugged Ant.

There were papers to sign, approval to give on certain terms, travel plans to make. All of it was nonsense; Terrence had told Ant they'd be travelling to Ilvermorny by magic. And Ant went from having one of the worst days of his life to having, as he thought, one of the best.

Chapter Four

Before Start of Term

The next few months seemed to drag along, but when August arrived, Ant felt as if they had flown past.

He had returned to his Nomaj middle school a few days after his eleventh birthday, determined to keep his grades all A's for the new semester. While he knew his admission to Ilvermorny wasn't dependent on his grades here, his parents didn't, and he didn't want to see Mae's reaction if he came home with anything less than perfect grades. The classes themselves seemed unimportant, considering than in a few months he'd be learning magic, but they were easy enough, and he put in a great deal of effort to ensure that his parents thought it was too easy for him, too.

Winter limped on, scouring Las Vegas with high-speed winds but little precipitation until at last it broke in March. The city celebrated the few days of spring before the city (and surrounding desert) found itself suddenly oppressed under the weight of rising temperatures. As Ant walked home from school with his sisters each day, soaked with sweat, he looked forward to end of the summer and a new school year.

That summer held one more surprise, though: Tony's brother, Andy, passed through town on his way to visit another of their brothers, Brian, in Alaska. Somehow, Ant found himself part of the expedition, and after a few days of driving, Ant found himself on his uncle Brian's wooded parcel of land on the outskirts of a remote Alaska town. He performed a variety of chores his uncle Brian tried to disguise as games – Ant didn't fall for this, but nor did he mind; he could see the value of the chores he completed and was, for the first time in his home life, praised for work well done. He chopped and stacked firewood, he helped remove rocks from a large square of land surrounded by rebar poles tied with twine. When he wasn't doing chores, he wandered the woods near his uncles' trailer, never wandering too far, but never quite remaining within sight, either.

Those glorious summer days also brought another treat: a package sent from his grandmother, containing the newly-released fifth Harry Potter book. Ant could only read by sunlight – the only power they had was from a gas generator, and his uncle wouldn't waste that on mere reading light – but luckily, at those far northern latitudes, Ant was treated to twenty hours of sunlight each day and found himself finished with the book within a single day. Brian, whose adult sons had never shown interest in books, was so amazed at Ant's dedication to reading that he even allowed him a few days without chores. Ant found himself a cozy spot in the woods, where the branchless trunk of a fallen fir tree nestled up to a yew whose overgrown branches would protect him from any sudden rains long enough to protect his treasured book.

Ant read the book first for pleasure, then re-read it as if reading a textbook. He kept a notebook and pen with him and wrote down odd details that made him think, as well as making note of spells, incantations, and wand movements that were described. Knowing as he did that the stories within the books were biographical rather than fictional, he was determined to learn everything he could from them before going to Ilvermorny. Terrence had made it clear that Ilvermorny had few Nomaj-born students, and Ant was determined not to fall behind his classmates, who would surely have access to far more information about magic than he got from a few books.

Once the chore-free grace period was over, Ant found himself with less and less to do anyways, since his uncles had progressed to the point of laying the foundation and actually building the house that would stand within the square section Ant had helped clear of rocks. What was a patch of nondescript dirt one day was suddenly concrete, then the bones of a house, then a two-story structure built around the chimney of an iron wood-burning stove. Before long, the house was closed to the elements and Ant's uncles began the work of making the house habitable.

Summer in Alaska began shortening; before long, the sun was setting noticeably sooner. The days, never hot by Las Vegas standards to begin with, became cooler. Ant found himself simultaneously dreading returning home, but anxiously and excitedly awaiting what followed. It was mid-August when his uncle Andy drove him to the airport in Anchorage to fly back to Las Vegas, and when he stepped outside the airport, the heat struck him like a physical wall. He hadn't exactly missed it in Alaska.

Tony was there to greet his son, to help him get his baggage, and to discuss his experiences and show off his souvenirs (these included a variety of books given to him by Brian's neighbors, who found him precocious, a large, extremely soft roll of muskrat fur, and a vest comprised of several portions of moose leather bound together by long, thin strips of leather). After Ant had talked about every detail of the place, Tony filled him in on the events that happened in Las Vegas over the summer.

Frances was no longer living with Tony and Mae. One early summer day, she and Marie had taken a bus to the local pool, only to find themselves face-to-face with their biological mother, who hadn't recognized them, and who had cursed at them, asking what the eff they were looking at. Frances' distress at being unrecognized by her own mother led to her dragging Marie off the bus. Nicole, who had been sitting elsewhere, recognized her sisters as they ran past but hadn't had time to stop them before they left the bus. She rushed back to Joanna to ask her if she had noticed her daughters on the bus, and this led Joanna to finding her ex-husband's home.

Frances and Marie explained this to their father, and sure enough, it was only a few days before Joanna came calling. Frances insisted on spending the summer anywhere else, as long as she didn't have to see Joanna. Frances had gone back to Florida to spend the summer with Mae's daughters, but after a month there had begged her father to let her stay and go to high school there. In the end, he had relented.

When Ant and his father got home, it was all hugs and celebration that the boy was back. His parents were mystified at how much he'd grown in the last two months; indeed, the only reason his feet would go into his shoes was that his shoes were falling apart. When they took him shopping, Ant's new shoes were four sizes larger than his previous pair. They bought him new jeans, no bigger in the waist but a couple inches longer in the leg. He got a few new shirts, some collared, some not. Ant felt like he was loved and valued for who he was, and almost wished he'd be around for more than two weeks.

For the day after Ant had returned from Alaska, a letter from Ilvermorny appeared. It contained a plane ticket for him as well as a list of textbooks and uniform items he'd be needing for school. The list of books, as Terrence had warned him, were mundane; not his actual textbooks, but a list meant to placate his parents' memories. The plane ticket was for the penultimate day of August; the flight, from McCarren Airport to Logan International Airport in Boston.

Those last two weeks seemed to drag along more slowly than the previous months had. Ant felt like he had spent a week packing his bags for Ilvermorny, only to find that thirteen days still remained before his flight. Daily he would reopen it, folding his clothes smaller to make room for books, against Mae's wishes.

Two days before his flight, Mae took Marie clothes-shopping. When they were gone, Tony presented Ant with a thick envelope. Ant peered inside it to find it full of crisp twenties. He looked up in a combination of awe and fear; he'd never held so much money before.

"That's for your textbooks and school uniforms. The letter said you'd have to pay for them at the school, so I wanted to make sure you had enough to get you through everything. Hide that in the bottom of your luggage. I don't want it disappearing before you leave. And buy yourself something cool with what's left over." With that, the discussion ended.

Ant couldn't sleep at all the night before his flight. He felt charged with energy. He occasionally dozed, but never for longer than an hour. The lights had been turned out at nine in the evening, and Ant had spent two and a half hours lying awake with his eyes closed, breathing peacefully as if asleep, the living embodiment of fake it till you make it. He opened his eyes at one point and saw the wall clock with its hands signifying that it was nearing midnight. When next he opened them, it was half past midnight. Then it was one in the morning, then quarter to two. He lay with his eyes open for half an hour, staring at the ceiling in silence and shadow, eyes occasionally darting to the clock, illuminated by a sliver of light that had slipped in between the blinds on the window.

At some point he fell asleep. He dreamed that he was standing in line to get through security at the airport, Terrence Boot just behind him. The line wasn't moving. The people in front of them turned, as one, to face Ant. He looked at Terrence behind him, to ask why they were even in line anyways, but it wasn't Terrence there when he turned. It was Mae, and she grasped his arm. Her mouth didn't move, but Ant could hear her voice whispering, "You don't belong there. They all know it as much as you, as much as I do. You're nothing special, you're ordinary, average. Maybe a little too smart for your own good, but it won't take you far. You'll settle for whatever cheapest college will have you, then take a low-paying job for convenience and end up stuck in it for life, just like your father. You'll never amount to anything, never be important. In the grand scheme of things, you're nothing but an ant."

Chapter Five

Death Valley

Ant rose at dawn, unable to pretend to sleep any longer after having jolted awake from his dream. He put on jeans – somewhat inadvisable in Las Vegas heat, but he wouldn't be in Vegas much longer – and one of his new collared shirts. The shirt was a deep red, the jeans dark blue, reminding him of Terrence's suit in Ilvermorny's official colors. It wasn't long before he heard the alarm clock in his parents' room; Mae and Tony would be up soon. Ant decided to make things easier for them by starting the coffee, then he started getting things ready to cook. Someone entered the kitchen, and as much as he wished it was Frances joining him to help cook, he knew it was Mae getting her morning coffee. She rummaged in the fridge for creamer, made herself a cup wordlessly, then ruffled Ant's hair affectionately as she walked past him.

Ant made fried egg sandwiches for the four of them and plated them up; by the time Tony was dressed, they were ready to eat. Ant brought the sandwiches out to the living room, pushing Marie's blankets aside to give himself somewhere to sit on the couch. Silently daring someone to question his right to eat in the living room, Ant took the first bite of his sandwich. Warm food seemed to dispel some internal cold he hadn't realized was dampening his spirits. The fractured family ate in near silence, the rasp of toast and quiet chewing seeming to fill the apartment. At last, they were all finished. Marie gathered up the plates while Mae hugged Ant and told him to study hard and keep his grades up. Marie herself hugged him, saying, "I'll miss you."

Ant grabbed his luggage and he and Tony headed for the truck.

Twenty-five minutes later, Tony pulled his truck into a departure area and retrieved Ant's luggage from the bed of the truck. He walked around the truck slowly, postponing goodbye. When he got to Ant on the sidewalk, there were tears in Tony's eyes. Ant was surprised, but somewhat less surprised to find himself tearing up as well. Tony wrapped his son in a gruff, one-armed hug. "I'm proud of you. You worked so hard and got into a school like that, I never coulda. You'll never have to work a job like mine, that was my biggest hope for you." He placed the luggage on the sidewalk and held Ant by his shoulders at arm's length, inspecting his son as if memorizing him in preparation of comparing how much taller and older Ant might be when he came back. "I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

Tony released him and the two walked toward security together, where they would have to part. Ant kept his eyes on that distant security sign. At some point, Terrence appeared and greeted the pair of them. Ant greeted him back politely, but he paid little attention to the conversation between Terrence and his father. The reality of leaving his family was hitting him for some reason. He hadn't felt this way before leaving for Alaska. Wasn't this just another wonderful adventure? It wasn't like he'd never see them again. Then words popped unbidden into his head: "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." He didn't know why Dumbledore's words had popped into his head. Nobody was dying. But he had some feeling of dread that just wasn't leaving him. He broke from his reverie when he realized that he was less than a foot from the labyrinth of barriers that marked the beginning of the security line.

Ant looked to his father and hot tears began spilling from his eyes again. "I'll miss you," he muttered. Tony hugged his son again, a firmer hug encircling his son with both arms.

"I'll miss you too, buddy. Go to that school and show 'em what you got. Make me even prouder. I love you."

"Love you too."

They both paused a moment while Ant furiously wiped the tears from his face with the balls of his hands. Then they looked each other in the eyes, Tony's bright blue and Ant's a murky brown-green, and they said goodbye. Tony stood there, watching his son weave through the barriers to get to the security gate, until an airport employee came to tell him he needed to move his truck before they called a tow.

Ant didn't pay attention to his surroundings again until they were at the security gate. There was not much of a line this early. As they got to the gate, Terrence whispered to Ant, "Play along," and then addressed the security guard.

"Excuse me, there's been some kind of mistake. I just had our tickets printed out, but these are for Boston; we're supposed to be going to New York." The security guard inspected the tickets, tapped away at his computer, and nodded.

"Sorry, sir. Happens every once in a while. If you can go back to the desk, they'll take care of it." He gestured toward a long service desk with our airline's logo above it.

They exited the security line to go around. Terrence quietly explained, "We'll be Apparating to get your school things, they only bought these tickets so your parents wouldn't question things. The school wrote the money off, but I figured we could refund them and get you a little extra financial assistance, yeah?" He grinned at Ant, and Ant couldn't help but grin back.

Terrence was able to get the tickets refunded pretty easily, and passed the money off to Ant. As they walked away from the desk, Terrence quietly mused on the folly of Muggles and their paper money. As they walked, they came to an alcove where they were hidden from three sides, and only visible if someone stopped on the fourth side and looked directly at them. Terrence led Ant to the alcove.

"Apparating isn't exactly pleasant. You'll want to hold my arm, tight. Take a deep breath and exhale all the way. I'll turn on the spot, and you must keep a tight grip on my arm. Got it?" When Ant nodded, Terrence surreptitiously waved his wand in an overhead circle, saying, "Muffliato. That'll stop the Mug – uh, Nomajes from hearing us Disapparate and thinking there's been a gunshot or something. Deep breath, now."

Ant took his arm, inhaled deeply, and slowly released the entire breath. When his lungs were empty and straining of air, Terrence twisted on the spot. Ant redoubled his grip, but he couldn't let go if he'd wanted; he felt as though the air had compressed around him, squeezing his chest, pressing on his closed eyes, stopping him from moving at all.

Then the pressure released, and Ant took a deep, shuddering breath of hot, clean desert air. He opened his eyes to see that they were in the middle of nowhere. It was almost unbearably hot. There were scrub brushes around, but no sign of other life. All around them the air rippled in a heat haze. In the distance, Ant thought he could see a large fountain, but he knew that in the desert, such things didn't exist. It was a mirage.

"Right then," said Terrence, walking towards the fountain. "Let's get going." And after a few steps, he disappeared into the rippling air. Ant stared, dumbstruck, for a moment before rushing after him. The heat haze didn't seem to retreat: he closed in on the rippling spot and was through it in an instant.

On the other side, the air was cool, but not cold. It felt like the desert at night. Ahead was the large fountain Ant had glimpsed through the curtain of rippling air. On either side, shops lined the street. It reminded him of an Old West town from movies, but the shops weren't sarsaparilla bars and shady saloons. There was an apothecary, a bookshop, a boutique, a store that sold Quidditch supplies, and many more that Ant couldn't really discern the purpose of without stopping, which Terrence didn't seem to want to do. He led Ant to the end of the road, where a lone building, painted a gleaming white, had two wizard guards outside. They nodded and allowed the two to pass.

There were a few wizards inside, waiting for appointments, Ant guessed. A human teller, red-haired and pretty, waved them forward as they entered. Ant started digging in his luggage for his envelope of cash, then resumed walking. The teller smiled at him when Terrence explained to her that he would be exchanging dollars for dragots. Ant noticed her nametag, which said LYDIA MUNKEN on it.

"First time in the First Bank of MACUSA, hon?" she asked, her voice showing off a hint of a southern drawl.

"First time in anything magic," Ant replied. "What's muhkooza?"

"Magical Congress of the United States of America," Terrence answered crisply while Ant began laying out his money.

All told, Ant had a little over $900: five hundred from his father, and four hundred and change from the refunded plane tickets. Ant tucked five twenties into his wallet but pushed the remainder forward to be exchanged. Lydia swept up the money, running her wand over the disarrayed pile. "All right, eight hundred twenty-six dollars comes out to two hundred forty-eight dragots and seventy-nine sprinks." Ant assumed she'd push a stack of coins at him, but she pushed a plastic card across the counter instead. "Sign that."

Ant picked up a fountain pen from the counter and wrote his name in cursive on the front of the card. The black ink seemed to sink straight into the plastic. After a second, it glowed bright blue, then he saw his name printed there: ANTHONY ALBERT ACKLIN. He lifted the card and inspected it; as he tilted it, the printed name melted back into his signature. It restored itself to print when he looked directly at the name again.

"Give it back one more second," Lydia told him. She waved her wand over it again then handed it back. "Now it's got your balance on it. You can use that at any store operated by a witch or wizard."

"Thank you, Ms. Munken," he said as Terrence waved his goodbye. She beamed at him and waved goodbye.

As they exited the bank, Terrence began remarking that Ant would have an easy time of buying his school things with that amount of money, but Ant absently cut him off.

"Terrence, how different is America from England? In terms of wizards, I mean?"

He considered before responding. "I'm not sure how much exposure you've had to English culture, but the wizarding community here is quite as different from the U.K. as the Mug – ah, Nomaj culture is."

"Pretty much all I know about the U.K. I learned from the Harry Potter books. And I know you like tea and the Queen."

He laughed at this. "That we do, Anthony. Well, if truth be told, the wizards here are typically a bit more… suspicious" (Ant suspected the word "paranoid" had been Terrence's first choice there) "of Nomajes. Wizarding culture here was hounded by the Scourers, traitorous wizards who teamed up with Nomajes and thought they had a calling to stamp out magic forever. So, wizards went into hiding, forbidden to even consort with Nomajes, and the Scourers congratulated themselves on a job well done. Well, most, I expect. You'll learn in History of Magic that the Scourers never really believed their work was done. In here first," he added, steering Ant towards a bookshop.

Inside, Ant found copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, Chadwick's Charms ("Get the boxed set of all seven," Terrence said, "save you some time and money down the road."), One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, A History of Western Wizardry, Magical Drafts and Potions, and A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Other books that caught his eye were Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Through the Ages, so Ant grabbed those as well. Ant paid a little under twenty-eight dragots for his books. "A lot of the textbooks are the same as those at Hogwarts," Terrence mentioned. "Ilvermorny takes a lot of inspiration from Hogwarts, things like prefects and Houses and the House Cup."

On the way to the exit, another book caught Ant's eye. It was a rather small, leather-bound book with a cord of leather tied around it in an intricate knot. The clerk, seeing his interest, said, "That's a journal. Blank on the inside. Knot only comes undone for the owner. Two sprinks if you want it."

Ant did, so he paid for the journal and tucked it in with his other books.

They visited several of the other shops as well, getting Potions ingredients, a cauldron, scales, a collapsible telescope for Astronomy, then Ant's school uniforms. It was rather less like robes than it was a navy-blue suit with dark red ("Cranberry", Terrence insisted, "always call it cranberry.") tie and a Celtic knot symbol that Terrence informed him was called a Gordian Knot, and the insignia of the school. Ant was looking forward to getting his wand, though, and was sorely disappointed when Terrence pronounced their shopping spree over before they found a wand shop.

"Oh, no, you don't get your wand until school!" Terrence said. "Haven't I told you? That'll be right after your Sorting."

"Sorting? So are Ilvermorny's Houses like Hogwarts?"

"Well, like Hogwarts, sure. But they're not the same Houses. You've got Great Horned Serpent, Wampus, Thunderbird, and Pukwudgie. They're named after creatures. You'll get a good idea of what they're about before the Sorting."

Ant absorbed this quietly. He had suddenly envisioned himself stuck in Slytherin House and barely repressed a shudder. "And I get a wand after?"

"That's right."

"What do you do at Ilvermorny?"

Terrence raised an eyebrow. "I knew you'd get there eventually. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. How could I not, being a former member of Dumbledore's Army?"

"Dumbledore's Army? You're – you're – Terry Boot?"

"That's Professor Boot to you now, isn't it?" he laughed.

"Yes, sir. But you know all about-"

"Let's curb that discussion for now. Save that for History of Magic. For now, we're going to find you a place to stay the night."

"We're not going to the school tonight?" Ant asked curiously.

"Nah, they wouldn't know where to put you, not being sorted yet. We'll get there tomorrow, you'll get Sorted into your House before the Welcome Feast, then term starts the next morning. It's rather like Hogwarts in that regard."

"And will we be Apparating with all my stuff?" Ant wasn't sure the teetering pile atop his luggage would survive Apparation.

"No, we'll get you a room at the inn here and have them send your non-essentials on. Just keep one of your school uniforms to wear for the Sorting and feast."

They arrived at the inn, an adobe building that seemed much larger inside than from without. Ant had a separate room from Terrence, who'd be sleeping next door to him. Ant set aside his uniform for tomorrow, his journal, his Defense textbook, and a ball-point pen (he'd gotten the standard fountain pens and ink bottles, too, but felt that this would be more convenient on occasion) and allowed the concierge to take the rest of his luggage to be shipped to Ilvermorny.

Ant inspected his room carefully. There was a large, hard-looking bed with ample pillows, blankets, and sheets; a small table with two chairs; a hamper for dirty clothes that buzzed when he touched it; a bathroom with a massive claw-footed tub with a curtain and shower option, a toilet, and a sink with an ornate mirror. He took off his clothes, dropping them into the hamper, which quivered alarmingly, then took a shower. There were a variety of soaps and shampoos, so he tried the simplest looking ones, which made him smell like a forest after rain. When he got out, he put on the fluffy robe hanging from the bathroom door and noticed that his clothes – which he had definitely put in the hamper before showering – were folded atop it, warm as if fresh from the dryer. They were soft and smelled of soap.

He spent the next hour writing in the journal, everything from Terrence – Professor Boot, he reminded himself – showing up before New Year's Eve all the way to today, and the village in Death Valley. Then he started reading The Dark Forces, paying particular attention to the spells described in the book; Ant wanted a head start, thinking it would put him on par with the wizard-born students. He began copying notes and wand motion diagrams on even pages of the journal, while his fledgling memoirs occupied the odd. He got through the first three chapters before calling it quits for the night, considering the long day he'd have tomorrow.

Due to their evening arrival time, however, they didn't leave early; in fact, Ant woke up early and continued outlining his book, only interrupted when Professor Boot knocked on his door at eight. He opened the door with journal in hand, and Professor Boot pushed in a cart with two breakfast trays. "We won't be leaving for a bit, so I thought you'd want breakfast." He laid out breakfast on the small table, noticing Ant's textbook open to the fifth chapter. "Getting ahead, I see."

Ant sat his journal down too, and Professor Boot looked at it and barked a laugh. "Really doing the thing properly, aren't you? Remind me at school to teach you how to prevent that book from filling up, if you do this for all your classes you'll be needing a trunk full of them by the end of the year." Ant wrote a reminder down in the book and turned to breakfast.

"Thanks for bringing this," he said as he began cutting a ham steak.

"Of course. Breakfast is on Ilvermorny's dime, just like the room itself."

Ant asked more questions about the classes at Ilvermorny. It turned out all of the same classes that were offered at Hogwarts were offered at Ilvermorny as well, with the addition of a few extras. "Some of the advanced classes – sixth and seventh year – offer additional courses. So, if you start Divination in your third year, and continue it at the advanced levels, you might take Xylomancy in sixth year. Or if you're particularly gifted at Transfiguration and want to become an Animagus, you can take that as an elective alongside Transfiguration in seventh year."

Ant was intrigued by the idea of becoming an Animagus. He thought it over as he chewed.

"Electives are a bit different from Hogwarts, though. Second year you'll take some aptitude tests that gauge whether you have what it takes for the classes – nothing serious for most of them, hard work and study will get you far – then you're allowed to choose between those you have an aptitude for."

When they finished, Professor Boot asked Ant if he wanted to continue his studies or get a look at the village. "Death Valley is one of a very few all-wizard settlements. American wizards like to pick remote places and shield them with magic."

Ant did want to see more of the town, so they continued trekking through it, stopping in all the shops. There was a Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Professor Boot had to drag Ant away from the broom displays. "You're not allowed your own broom at Ilvermorny. Even the Quidditch team uses brooms that belong to the school, it's fairer that way." Many of the shops were very specialized, and Ant was mystified by all the items whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess at. There was an animal shop as well, but Ant merely admired them and chose not to buy one. He couldn't take an owl home, anyways.

Past noon, they stopped at a café and ate lunch on the terrace. Ant ate while looking off into the distance, trying to see if he could spot the dome of protective enchantments that blocked Death Valley Town from Nomaj eyes. After lunch, they returned to the inn, where Ant finished chapters five and six of his textbook then showered and dressed in his Ilvermorny uniform. He had never tied a tie before, and he was on the point of going to Professor Boot's room to ask for help, but when he placed the tie around his neck it swirled to life, tying itself perfectly in a double Windsor. Ant picked up his jacket to put it on but felt something moving in one of the pockets. He unbuttoned the pocket, and a piece of gold, thin and about two inches long, featuring a circle of unblemished gold on one side, zoomed out of the pocket and affixed itself to his tie between the third and fourth buttons of his shirt. He laughed from the sheer exhilaration of seeing magic in action.

When four o'clock arrived, Professor Boot knocked at his door and told him it was time to go. Ant put his two books in the pocket of his jacket that the tie clasp had come out of; they didn't leave a bulge in the jacket at all. They went out to the lobby and informed the concierge that they were departing, then Ant took Professor Boot's arm and took one more ride into compressing darkness.

Chapter Six

Sorting and Choosing

Ant felt considerably cooler as soon as the darkness faded. He opened his eyes to find himself in a castle courtyard, surrounded by low stone walls, overlooking a series of mountains – by the standards of someone who had seen the Rockies, these were glorified hills – and valleys. It was not quite sunset. Since there was no time delay in Apparating, as far as Ant knew, he assumed they'd gone a couple time zones east. As he looked around the courtyard, he saw a mass of other kids his age, and separated himself from Professor Boot immediately.

"Thanks for the ride, Professor," he said, hoping that it sounded as cool to the others as it had in his head.

Professor Boot smiled and gestured to the fortress-like castle ahead. "I've got to go in, but you won't have to wait long for the Sorting." Speaking louder, he addressed them all. "It shouldn't be much more than twenty minutes before someone comes out to escort you to the Sorting. I recommend you take this time to get to know each other. The friends you make at Ilvermorny will be your friends, coworkers, and allies throughout life." He winked at Ant and turned away, through the tall lacquered wooden doors behind him.

Ant looked around at the crowd of students. He guessed there were about fifty of them in the courtyard. Near him was a boy with golden blond hair, pale green eyes, and a round, friendly face. Ant moved toward him and the boy held out his hand.

"Donhold Rappaport," the boy said.

"Donald?"

"Donhold. There's an 'h' in there."

"Sorry. I'm Ant Acklin."

"Ant?"

"It's Anthony, technically, but my dad goes by 'Tony', so my family just took to calling me Ant."

The boy nodded appreciatively at this. "Any idea which House you'll be sorted into?"

Ant froze for a moment, then spoke. "Professor Boot told me about the Houses, but he didn't really have time to tell me what each one means."

Donhold accepted this in stride, and he began explaining the philosophies of the four Houses. "Well, there's Pukwudgie. It's named after a creature that's like a goblin or house elf. They stand for the heart of a wizard. Apparently, they make good Healers. Then there's Thunderbird, which stands for the soul of a wizard and makes adventurers. Wampus represents the body of a wizard, and makes warriors, and last is Great Horned Serpent, which stands for the mind."

"Oh. I don't know. I guess I'll just take what they throw at me."

Donhold laughed. "Go with the flow, huh? I like that. Maybe we'll end up in the same house."

After this, Ant turned to meet more of the students. There was a girl with tanned skin and black hair. She introduced herself as Isla Santiago. She had a look about her that suggested she might rip the arm off someone who tried to stand in her way. Ant decided it'd be best not to be her enemy.

He also met a boy named Mario Abrantes, who looked very serious with his hair carefully combed and his stoic expression; a girl named Basimah Lakhani, whose eyes reminded him of Marie's, but looked gold flecked with blue rather than the other way around; and a variety of other students. After a while, he found that he had only retained the first few students' names. He was shaking the hand of Shaun Brandt, a brown-haired boy with slim features and an easy, lopsided smile, when the doors opened again. Ant stood on tiptoe to better see who had opened it.

"Well, get in, then," grumbled the creature. It was about two and a half feet tall, with grey skin and bat-like ears set rather lower on its head than human ears. The students shuffled into the entrance hall. In front of them was the school's emblem, the Gordian Knot, on the floor. Directly in front of it, between two staircases that joined above the statue, stood a carving featuring the creatures the Houses were named for. There was a balcony above, teeming with staff and older students. The first-year students filed around the walls, not wanting to get much closer to the center of the room. As the door closed behind the last of them, a dark-skinned elderly woman made her way about halfway down the grand flight of stairs, until she was standing immediately above the statue. Ant saw her dark but greying hair was done up in many small braids.

"When I call your names, you will step forward onto the Gordian Knot and be chosen by a House. Afterwards, you will proceed through the door on your left," (she gestured at it with her right hand) "and you will be chosen once more, this time by your wand. Abrantes, Mario."

Mario Abrantes stepped forward with a deep breath, clasping his hands together as he looked upon the statue. There was a moment of expectant silence, then part of the statue came to life: the Pukwudgie raised an arrow in salute. Above on the balcony, a quarter of the students roared their approval of the new addition to their House. Mario hurriedly moved toward the wand room.

Next "Acaba, Renata" stepped forward. Instantly, the thunderbird carving came to life, beating its wings with a screech. The Thunderbird students above applauded and Renata raised a fist triumphantly, half-skipping her way to the wand room.

Ant was already moving before the witch on the stairs started saying his name. He knew he was early on the list and doubted a group this small would have any names between "Acaba" and "Acklin." The witch waited for him to stop moving before she announced his name questioningly, to which he nodded in confirmation.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, during which Ant had just enough time to wonder how long it'd take before they just kicked him out, when the wampus, a large cat-like creature, roared its approval at the same time the Great Horned Serpent writhed and illuminated its horn. Nobody had told Ant what to do if more than one statue reacted. There was a lot of muttering from the gallery above, and even the dark-skinned woman seemed surprised.

After a moment, she addressed Ant. "Choose your house," she called in grand tones.

Ant looked between the wampus and the serpent. Wampus created warriors, while Great Horned Serpent created… what? He hadn't been told. But something about the snake carving bothered Ant. He recalled that another magical school's house with a serpent emblem turned out many Dark wizards. So, he made his choice based on that knowledge: "I choose Wampus!"

The Wampus students roared twice as loud as the previous two houses. Ant exhaled deeply and moved quickly from the hot seat, toward the door to the wand room.

On the other side of the lacquered oak door was an expansive, cathedral-like room. It was silent here. Ant couldn't see the students who'd gone in ahead of him. It was like a library, with rows and rows of shelves, each packed with partially unboxed wands. A hand-made sign sat near the entrance that read, "Find your wand from the masses. You will know when it chooses you."

Ant walked through the rows like he would in a library, inspecting the shelves with a roving eye and stopping to give more attention when something caught his fancy. He handled over a dozen wands on shelves of varying heights. None of them felt like they had chosen him. He moved deeper into the room, where the shadows and dust seemed to grow thicker. There were fewer wands on these shelves. Ant moved more slowly, inspecting each in turn. When he reached the last shelf in the row, there were only three wands on it. He looked closely at them, then lifted one of the wands, which was redder in color and looked more natural and less manufactured than the other two. It had what appeared to be petrified plant bulbs along its length, and a slight forward curve; if held vertically, the tip would be angled away from the wielder's face.

As soon as the wand was drawn fully from its box, the box snapped shut and the wand released a burst of heat into Ant's palm. The wand tip glowed a warm red color, as did the bulbs along its length. When the light faded, Ant knew he had found his wand. He placed it carefully in the right side of his jacket, where a wand pocket was sewn specifically to assist the left-handed boy.

Ant turned to leave but jumped in shock when he saw he wasn't alone. An impossibly ancient-looking Pukwudgie stood there silently. He chuckled when Ant jumped in fright.

"Thirteen-and-a-quarter inches. California redwood. Jackalope antler core. This wand, boy, was the last wand ever made by the hands of Isolt Sayre. Treat it well, and it will treat you well back." The Pukwudgie turned and stumped away slowly. Ant heard him murmuring, "Oh, Isolt, how your school has grown. You'd be so proud."

Ant moved in the direction the Pukwudgie had, but he when he turned the same corner, there was no one there. He did, however, see a sign for an exit. He followed this to a large double door with no knobs. He pushed on the wood; it didn't budge. He paused for a moment, thinking, then a lightbulb came on in his head. He said, "Oh!" and drew his wand. Presented with a wand and the wizard it had chosen, the doors opened.

Ant found himself – disconcertingly – on the second floor, behind a group of older students. They turned to greet him when they saw the door opening, and some of them rushed to shake his hand. He had taken quite a while to find his wand; he heard the name "Quentin, Randall" called, then chosen by Thunderbird. One of the students who greeted him, a tall, well-built black boy, wore a badge with an identical but smaller Wampus on it. He whispered to Ant as he shook his hand. "Peter Tailor. I'm one of the Prefects for Wampus House. You may not know this, but it's really rare someone gets chosen by more than one House – I'm sure you're gonna do really well in Wampus."

"Thanks," Ant said, smiling weakly at him. He was amazed and a little terrified that so many people already had high expectations of him. To be sure, he had high expectations for himself, but if he disappointed himself, he'd just feel motivated to try harder. He didn't think the others would be as forgiving if he disappointed them, too.

"Rappaport, Donhold!" There was a sharp intake of breath. Utter silence filled the room at the sound of the name "Rappaport". Ant was on the verge of asking why, but Peter pushed his way to the railing to see Donhold for himself. There were three seconds of strained silence and then the unmistakable sound of the Wampus's roar, followed by gasps. Ant saw the carving through the shifting mass in front of him and understood why: The Great Horned Serpent's horn was glowing, the Thunderbird was flapping its wings, and the Wampus looked down expectantly at Donhold. The whispers started up again: who would he pick? Which of the three Houses? How rare was it for two students to be chosen by more than one house? How rare was it for a student to be chosen by three? Then the whispers suddenly died as Donhold's voice, thin and quavering, said, "I choose Wampus!"

It was like an explosion. The Wampus students were whooping, stomping, and clapping. Ant joined in, glad to have at least one familiar face in the dormitory.

Donhold found his wand rather quickly and made his way up to the gallery. By the time he arrived, Isla Santiago had been chosen by Great Horned Serpent and the witch, who Peter told him was the headmistress, Professor Eulalie Hicks, was down to the last three students, who turned out to be "Tripplet, Clayton" (Pukwudgie), "Unfeldt, Inara" (Thunderbird), and "Villanueva, Vicente" (Wampus, to delighted cheers). The students turned from the balcony to face the doors behind each group and waited for the last students to be chosen by their wands and make it to the gallery. Once Vicente Villanueva stepped through the door, it closed itself behind him and melted into the stone wall. The prefects then announced, "To the Dining Hall!" and led the way down the stairs to the Welcome Feast.

Chapter Seven

Son of a Scourer

The next morning was Monday, September the first, and the official start of term. Ant was quite excited to begin his classes and was dressed and ready to go down to breakfast while his dormmates, Donhold and Vicente, were still blinking the sleep from their eyes.

He made his way to the Wampus Student Lounge, which was all on one level and featured the boys' dorms on one side and the girls' on the other. The lounge itself featured study tables with benches, couches, and comfortable chairs. The room was lit via windows in the roof, which Ant was sure were enchanted, because they were only on the third floor of at least seven.

Despite it being early on the first morning, the Wampus Lounge was already alive with activity. A few third-year students were practicing dueling stances under the watchful eye of a seventh-year prefect. One second-year girl was building a structure like a house of cards, but from textbooks, using her wand to carefully lift and place the books. The house was already six levels high. Off to one side of her house, a third-year boy was Transfiguring a pen into a bowling ball. On the first attempt Ant witnessed, the bowling ball was made of lightweight plastic, and when the boy lifted it, ink oozed out onto his fingers.

Ant spied Peter and walked over to him. "Good morning!"

"Morning, Ant. On your way down to breakfast?"

"Yeah, if I can remember the way," Ant said. He was pretty sure he'd get there eventually, but if Ilvermorny was anything like what he'd read of Hogwarts, he didn't want to wander through it blindly.

"Come along with me, I'm about to take a group of girls down there." He gestured over his shoulder. Ant recognized the girls but didn't know their names. "Hold on while I talk to Felicity."

Peter walked over to a different girl. She was short and curvy, with tightly-curled brown hair and a friendly face. Like Peter, she wore a Prefect's badge on her chest. They shared a few quick words, during which Ant introduced himself to the first-year girls. One girl, Elen, was tall for her age, at least half a foot taller than Ant. She had a thin face, blue eyes, and a confident smile. Lunetta shook Ant's hand next; the first thing he noticed about her was that she was very dark-skinned and very pretty. She moved gracefully, like a dancer, and had her hair drawn back tightly into a bun that seemed to explode into a large, puffy ball of hair. Then Ant met Audra, a girl with olive skin and red hair who seemed very shy. The last of the girls was Adrienne, whose sleek-looking hair fell in waves down her back. She glared at Ant suspiciously and seemed to be about to open her mouth to ask him something when Peter returned to guide them outside. Adrienne changed her mind, apparently, but Ant was sure he'd hear whatever she had to say eventually.

As they departed the lounge, Ant heard the telltale crash that told him the boy had succeeded in not only Transfiguring his pen into a bowling ball, followed by curse words and incantations being shrieked by the girl whose book house now lay in piles all around her.

At breakfast, a stocky wizard in dirt-stained robes that had once been navy and cranberry handed out schedules. Ant looked over his in anticipation while the wizard, who Ant guessed was Herbology teacher Professor Sunley, argued with an older Wampus student about whether to take Herbology or have a morning period free. He wasn't sure what to make of his schedule, which featured Magical Theory and History of Magic bookending each school day, and the other classes split up between Monday/Wednesday, Tuesday/Thursday, or else on Friday. Ant noted that Friday mornings after Magical Theory were devoted to Flying lessons, which made him feel excited and anxious.

Donhold and Vicente arrived just after Professor Sunley had chased the sixth-year boy away from the table, still arguing about Herbology. Peter, who had taken their schedules when Professor Sunley had given him his own, passed them on. Seeing Ant's bemused face, Peter took a look at his schedule and began commentating on it.

"Theory first thing in the morning isn't bad, it's just a lot of lecture and notes. Charms and Defense, that's a pretty good morning every day of the week." He inspected the afternoon classes next. "Transfiguration is rough, but you shouldn't have too much issue with it. And History of Magic… well, let's just say you'll be glad not to have to take it every day after first year."

Ant wasn't sure what to make of that – he enjoyed his History classes at his Nomaj school – but nodded along with Peter anyways. It wasn't long before he accepted the truth of Peter's words, however.

By the end of the week, what struck Ant the most about his classes were how in-sync the curricula were with each other. Their lessons in Charms and Defense felt like they were directly built upon what they had learned in the class period previous, during Magical Theory. Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions all emphasized the importance of theory and the positions of stars, planets, and moons in spellcasting, plant-growing, and potion brewing before Ant and his classmates learned about how to chart those important celestial bodies in Astronomy on Friday nights. The only two classes that seemed disassociated from the others were Flying and History of Magic.

Flying was an experience unto itself. The students spent the first lesson, outside the grove of wand-wood trees on a level area of Mount Greylock's northern face, learning how to polish, trim, and stow the school brooms. Mister Castle, who taught Flying and was the school's Quidditch referee, told them all about how he, Professor Spaulding, and her brother worked together to build the school's fleet of brooms from those trees whose wood was magical, but not of wand quality. Each of the brooms had identical specifications, which he said were about middle-of-range for a moderately expensive broom, and which allowed the school's Quidditch games to be on a much more even level than some schools, which allowed wealthier students the advantage of buying better brooms. The class was disappointed that they wouldn't be flying any time soon – some students, like Donhold, a Great Horned Serpent boy named Landon, and Lunetta Frank were especially disappointed, as they had grown up flying and were keen to show off. Despite all this, Ant swelled with pride when Mister Castle showed the class his broom's tail twigs, showing how well Ant had done to remove as little as possible while clipping off split ends and keeping the tail even and tidy-looking.

History of Magic, though, was as unpleasant as Peter had implied. It wasn't that the class was boring, as Ant had suspected Peter meant, or that it was difficult, even; Professor Lowell just seemed to take vindictive pleasure in terrorizing his students. He would call on students to read passages from the textbook, and if they made a mistake in reading it would cost them House points. If a student answered a question incorrectly, or without enough detail, they lost House points. Professor Lowell didn't even seem biased towards a particular House. At the end of the week's last History lesson on Friday afternoon, each of the Houses had lost at least twenty points in the first-year class alone, although no House had lost more than Wampus.

Ant suspected it was the look on his face, Wednesday afternoon, when Professor Lowell started talking about Scourers, that had caused the professor to pick on him. Ant had been curious to learn more about the Scourers, who they were, and what they had done to send the wizarding community so far into hiding. Lowell had lectured dispassionately on how the Scourers considered themselves the first wizarding enforcers of rule of law in the New World. He explained how the organization succumbed to corruption, abusing their power to take what they wanted and turning their wizarding enemies over to Nomajes for execution. The Scourers went as far as to incite the Witch Trials, which allowed them to abuse the Nomajes' fears to settle personal vendettas.

Then Professor Lowell talked about how the American wizards formed a government to bring the Scourers to justice, and how many Scourers escaped by pretending to be Nomajes and hiding their magic. Professor Lowell snapped his book shut at this point, then glared in turn at Kevin, a boy from Thunderbird Ant had met in Charms, Shaun, who Ant had met before the Sorting and who sat on Ant's right in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and lastly at Ant himself. He spent the next part of his lecture explaining how the Scourers had trained their descendants to follow in their footsteps, looking only at those three boys until the rest of the class had also realized which students he was staring at. Then, he seemingly changed the subject.

"Incidentally, studies undertaken in various nations around the world show that wizards born to Nomaj parents often have a secret wizarding parent somewhere back in their family tree. I wonder whether that's true of our own Nomaj-born compatriots," he continued with a nasty smile.

Kevin's face was blank, as if he didn't understand what was being implied. Shaun's face went pink, but he kept his expression carefully under control. Ant narrowed his eyes in anger. Students were turning to look at him from all over the classroom, including, he noticed, the smug-looking Adrienne he had met that morning. He could tell she believed the professor's implication that he was descended from Scourers. Ant didn't know whether he was, and he didn't care; he felt it was unfair to judge someone by the actions of someone who lived two centuries before.

"Have something to say, Mister…" Professor Lowell checked his register, "Acklin?"

"No, sir," Ant replied, politely but firmly.

"A question from me, then," Lowell said, smiling. "In what year was Rappaport's Law enacted?"

Ant stared blankly. He remembered someone mentioning it but didn't know anything about the law. "I don't know, Professor."

"That's disappointing. Even a Nomaj-born student should be aware of the MACUSA's laws. Five points from Wampus. The law was enacted in 1790." There was a sharp intake of breath from the Wampus students. He had only taken a single point at a time from other students. "Let's try again, shall we? What was the main subject of Rappaport's Law?"

Ant wracked his brains, trying to recall what Professor Boot had said about the law. It came rushing back after a moment. Nomaj-born wizards are exceptionally rare in the States as it is, due to Rappaport's Law. "Rappaport's Law," Ant guessed, "separated the magical and Nomaj communities." Under the table at which they sat, Donhold placed a note in Ant's lap. It read, repealed 1965.

"Simplistic but generally correct. Another five points from Wampus." At this, there was outrage. Even the students from other Houses were protesting. Professor Lowell held up a hand and waited for silence. When the students settled down, he said, "Another five points from each of your Houses, and it'll be fifty if someone speaks out again." Nobody in the class even dared breathe loudly. Lowell then turned to Donhold and Ant, and said, "I asked Mister Acklin, not Mister Rappaport, so I don't appreciate him passing notes giving answers to the student who didn't bother learning anything about the world he was entering into." He pointed his wand at Ant, and the note reading repealed 1965 flew off his lap into Professor Lowell's hand. Ant looked directly into his eyes, mentally standing his ground. He's not Mae, Ant thought. He can't hurt you. "Your Scourer ancestors would be disappointed at how little effort you've put into this, Acklin," he said, igniting the note with the tip of his wand.

Half an hour later, when Peter asked the first-year boys why Wampus had lost fifteen points, Ant was still too angry to explain. Donhold looked uneasily between Peter and Ant, opening his mouth and closing it as if constantly changing his mind about whether to speak. After fifteen seconds of this, Vicente interrupted it. "Professor Lowell accused Ant and a couple other students of being descended from Scourers. Then he asked Ant a bunch of questions. He took five points for getting one wrong, then five points for getting one right, but Donhold had passed him a note, so he said they were cheating. But when he took points away for getting it right, almost everybody got mad at him, so he took five more points from every House."

"Did you pass him the answers?" Peter asked Donhold.

"Well, yeah, kinda, but not really." Donhold said, looking shifty.

"How could you kinda pass him the answers?" Peter asked exasperatedly.

At this, Ant finally spoke up, defiance in his voice. "Professor Lowell asked when Rappaport's Law was enacted. I didn't know, so he took five points. Then he asked what the law was for. I answered, and got it right, then Donhold put a note in my lap saying the law was repealed in 1965."

"I thought he would ask that next, and that you didn't know. Sorry," Donhold said, looking sheepish.

Peter sighed softly. "Giving answers to a student when the teacher has asked for them is right on the edge of cheating. Giving answers the professor hasn't asked for isn't though. I can't get your points back, but you should be careful around Lowell." He walked away, leaving them alone.

Ant spent the rest of Friday afternoon until dinner continuing to outline his books. He had finished The Dark Forces on Tuesday and had started the first volume of Chadwick's Charms immediately, but Wednesday's History of Magic class had convinced him set it aside to start A History of Western Wizardry instead. He intended to have the outline completed before they saw Lowell again on Monday. After dinner, he resumed this until it was time to leave for Astronomy. He had expected Astronomy to take place at the top of the highest tower, as it did at Hogwarts. There wasn't a classroom number on the schedule, so Ant had asked Vicente during lunch that day where to find it.

"I heard Felicity telling girls to meet her in the entrance hall tonight around ten-thirty. She's probably going to show them the way then," he responded.

So, at half past ten that night, the Wampus boys found themselves in the entrance hall a short distance from the girls. Lunetta waved cheerfully at the boys. Ant and Vicente waved back; Donhold smiled shyly. Adrienne glared at Ant, as if it was his fault Lunetta had waved, then at Lunetta for being friendly with him. Lunetta acted as if she couldn't see the look on Adrienne's face. Again, Ant had a feeling that Adrienne intended to say something to him, but a painting next to the door to the wand room swung on its hidden hinges, revealing Felicity coming down a flight of stairs.

"Oh, you guys made it too. Good, I wasn't sure if Peter knew that you'd need directions. The Astronomy meeting area is outside." Felicity gathered them all behind her like ducklings and headed out into the cool night air. She led them a short way down the mountain – the castle on the summit was still in sight – then took a turn, leading them on a torch-lit terrace ring that took them in a clockwise loop to the western face of the mountain. There they saw flat stretch of ground with a half-built semi-spherical structure about forty feet across taking up about half of the available space. The students from Great Horned Serpent were already present, telescopes set up on tripods at various points. Isla, the girl Ant had met in the courtyard before the Sorting, waved over at the Wampus group, and gestured for them to come over.

Ant had had the impression that she was waving at him to come over to her, so he started toward her. He hadn't taken a full step after changing direction when a leg appeared in front of his own and he tripped over it, falling to the ground on top of his telescope. He knew before looking up that it had been Adrienne that tripped him, and he knew before inspecting his telescope that it was broken.

Felicity rushed over to help him, but Ant quickly stood on his own and drew his wand. Felicity instantly stepped back, not sure if she should intervene. Adrienne, meanwhile, tossed her telescope aside to draw her wand.

"You tripped me on purpose," Ant growled at her.

"It's not my fault you're so clumsy you can't take two steps without falling on your scrawny ass," Adrienne replied coolly.

Ant narrowed his eyes, then aimed his wand. Adrienne jumped away, howling; she didn't know any magic that could help her defend herself, or else had forgotten under pressure. Everyone around them but Felicity laughed, because Ant hadn't pointed his wand at her but at his telescope. He remembered something Professor Hegel had said in Magical Theory that morning and one of the spells he had drawn a diagram for from Chadwick's Charms before switching to the history text, waved his wand precisely, and said clearly, "Reparo." As he waved the wand, the broken parts of the telescope flew back into place and the cracked lens mended itself with a flash of reflected light.

Felicity looked like she wasn't sure whether to smile or scowl. "You're not supposed to use magic in the school except in class, Ant. I'm going to have to report this to Professor Spaulding."

"Aw, but, Felicity," Lunetta pleaded, "Ant didn't do anything wrong, he didn't even use magic inside the school! We're outside!"

Ant smiled at Lunetta for defending him; Adrienne scowled again. She picked up her telescope, finding that it had been dented when she tossed it aside. Ant didn't offer to fix it for her. Felicity thought for a moment, then said, "It's the spirit of the rule that counts. I'll have to let her know." Adrienne smiled until Felicity rounded on her, looking less like a mother duck and more like a mother bear. "I did see you trip him, though. Violence against another student is a far more serious infraction, Adrienne. I'll be reporting that too. Ant will likely get a warning and points for Wampus for performing the Repairing Charm so well. You're likely to get detention, so don't gloat. And behave. Professor Cosmont will be out in a moment." Felicity looked toward the dome structure, then walked back toward the path up to the castle.

Ant heard Adrienne mutter something as he continued over to Isla. He thought he knew what she had said but ignored it. Lunetta, however, spluttered with outrage. "Apologize for that right now!" Adrienne turned to look at her, sneering, and only scoffed and shook her head before moving to the other end of the field to set up her tripod. Ant set up his telescope on Isla's right, and Lunetta set up on her left. Donhold moved to set his up on Ant's right. Within moments, the first-years from Thunderbird and Pukwudgie arrived. Shaun came by and greeted Ant warmly, then moved to set up his telescope a few feet in front of Ant. Ant saw Adrienne inspecting her telescope, then attempting to use Reparo as he had done. Apparently, you couldn't just wave your wand and say the incantation, because with a bang, a leg fell off her tripod, tipping her telescope onto the ground once again.

By the time Professor Cosmont emerged from the dome structure, followed by a seventh-year girl from Great Horned Serpent and two sixth-years, a boy and girl from Pukwudgie, the first-years had set up their telescopes in a five-by-six grid facing away from the castle. Professor Cosmont was middle-aged but had a youthful smile, greying black hair, and a bounce in his step. The professor introduced himself, then asked the class: "Can anyone name the structure we're building here?" There was a moment of silence, then Ant raised his hand. "Your name, son?"

"Anthony Acklin, Professor. Is it a planetarium?"

"It is, Mister Acklin. Five points to Wampus. My Advanced Course students and I are building it to allow us to stargaze even on those nights that are cloudy, and to look at the night sky on nights other than the current one."

Professor Cosmont used this as a launch point for his lecture, which was all about recognizing constellations and being able to find them in the night sky. He directed them to point their telescopes at specific constellations in turn and to mark them down on star charts he handed out. Adrienne had to ask for help; her tripod was broken, and she couldn't see out of her telescope. The professor took one look at it and said, "Well, you didn't honestly expect to be able to see out of a broken telescope, did you?" He waved his wand and there was a small, bell-like chime as the metal casing of the telescope undented itself and whatever was broken inside was repaired.

Professor Cosmont called time about twenty minutes later and asked the students to hand their charts in. He looked at each of them in turn before stowing them in his shoulder bag. Occasionally he commented on a chart before stowing it, small pieces of praise such as "nicely done", "good work", or in Adrienne's case, "Not quite done? Don't worry, you'll be bale to finish it next week." Ant didn't feel especially pleased that Adrienne hadn't finished, because even if she hated him, he wanted Wampus to do well in the House championship.

Professor Cosmont walked the students back to the entrance hall, his Advance Course students accompanying them as well. The seventh-year girl was chatting animatedly with Isla. Ant noticed how similar the two girls looked and realized they might be sisters. In the entrance hall, when Donhold started up the stairs, Ant hung back and inspected the painting Felicity had come through earlier. Donhold turned when he realized Ant wasn't next to him and asked, "You coming?"

"In a sec," Ant replied. "I wanna get a closer look at this thing."

He inspected the painting. It featured an old man in a powdered wig with an arrow sticking through his head. He appeared to be sleeping. Ant looked around the edges of the massive frame – about seven feet high in all – and didn't see any hinges. When he realized the entrance hall had gone silent, he looked around. He wasn't alone. Lunetta was inspecting the portrait too, but from a few feet back.

"I saw Felicity use the passage behind this to get down here from the Wampus Lounge earlier," Ant explained. "I was wondering how to get in."

Ant heard a loud harrumph and jumped a bit. The man in the portrait, not asleep at all, was looking down at him. "All you had to do was ask, didn't you?" the man asked him. His voice had an accent Ant had only heard in old-timey radio shows. Ant was taken aback. He had read about portraits that seemed to be alive in the Harry Potter books, but he was still shocked to meet one for himself.

"Yes, sir," he told the portrait. "Sorry for waking you up."

"Not to worry, dear boy, next time just use the password and I'll open up without you needing to spend so long staring at me like you meant to try to remove my arrow." He waggled his eyebrows and lifted his wig. The arrow wasn't running through his head but was instead part of the wig. Ant laughed, which the man seemed to enjoy. "The password, incidentally, is 'Theodard.'"

"It was nice to meet you, sir. I have to get up to the Wampus lounge now."

"Good night, then! Off you go," he said, swinging forward on his hinges to allow Ant and Lunetta to pass.

"Are you sure this leads to the third floor?" she asked as the portrait closed behind them. "We don't want to get lost."

"Either it leads to the third floor, or Felicity was somewhere she shouldn't have been before leading us outside," Ant pointed out.

The staircase was narrow and wound its way upward in tight spirals. It was dark, but Ant drew his wand again, flourishing it and muttering, "Lumos." Nothing happened.

"Well," Lunetta giggled, "I guess we can't expect you to be too far ahead of the rest of us. Lumos," she said, and her wand tip lit and illuminated the stairs. They began climbing, with Lunetta taking the lead.

"Thanks," Ant muttered. "Guess I need more practice."

"Well, you know, on the way up the mountain, I made friends with Isla Santiago and she suggested making a group to study and practice together. Maybe you could join?"

Ant smiled, then realized that she wasn't looking at him, so he added, "Yeah, that sounds cool."

"Don't let what Adrienne called you bother you. Most people don't think that way." She looked over her shoulder at him as she said this.

"Thanks. I'll try not to." Ant sighed. "I guess I should have expected it."

"You shouldn't have to expect people to use disgusting slurs to describe you," Lunetta said with cold fury in her voice. Ant instantly realized that being called a Mudblood was probably nothing compared to the things Lunetta might have heard growing up. His family had their prejudices, and although Ant had decided when he was very young to be as different from his family as he could, that didn't protect him from the knowledge of the kinds of hatred his ancestors had been capable of without magic. His heart sank as he wondered whether, somewhere in the distant past, his family had something more embarrassing than racists on it.

"Thanks, Lunetta. Seriously. For the light, the advice, defending me… and mostly for being a friend."

She smiled and said, "No problem, Ant," as she pushed open the portrait at the top of the stairs.

It was no more than ten minutes since they had split off from the rest of the group, and they closed this portrait, which featured a sleeping young man in what looked like it must be the original Ilvermorny school uniform. They had exited right next to the archway that led into the Wampus lounge. A voice behind them rang out as they passed under the arch. Donhold, pink and with a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, was rushing to catch up with them, followed at a more languid pace by Vicente and the other girls.

"How did you get up here before us?" he called out. The young man in the portrait twitched.

"That portrait didn't make us cross the length of the castle twice to get to the third floor," Lunetta informed him.

"That sounds nice," Donhold said hopefully.

"I'll tell you the password for it later," Ant said as Adrienne came within earshot. "Don't want to share it with the wrong people."

Ant climbed into his bed some twenty minutes later, ready for his first weekend at Ilvermorny. Like the bed he had slept in at the hotel, this one was as hard as a slab of stone when he climbed onto it, but as he shuffled to make himself comfortable, the bed softened and contoured to his body. Each night here had been, he thought, the most comfortable he remembered being. He never woke up sore or still tired, and always seemed to wake exactly when he wanted to.

This night was different. Ant woke up in the dark, not knowing why he had woken until he tried to check his watch to see what time it was. His arm wouldn't move. It was stuck by his side. His legs wouldn't move either. Was he under the effect of a Full Body Bind Curse? But no, he could move his head. He lifted it, poking his chest with his chin and looking down his nose to see what was holding him down. He was wrapped tightly to his bed with what appeared to be particularly thick paper. He struggled, but the paper wouldn't break. Ant thought he could see words on the paper as he shimmied around. Ant could see slightly more clearly; he supposed his eyes were adjusting to the darkness.

"Donhold," Ant whispered, turning his head to the left, where Donhold's bed was. "Help me, someone played a prank on me." There was no response. Ant suddenly realized he couldn't hear Donhold's snoring, or Vicente's soft breathing. He peered around into the darkness, then realized – he couldn't hear them because he wasn't in his dorm. If he was, there'd be a window between his bed and Donhold's, and he'd be able to see stars through it.

Realizing that the prank was more thorough than he'd originally anticipated, Ant decided it was time to call for help again. This time, he shouted instead of whispering. "IS ANYONE THERE? I NEED HELP!"

From somewhere in the direction of the foot of his bed, Ant heard a distant thud and rustling, then the slapping of multiple pairs of feet on a stone floor. Then he heard a voice say, "Lumos," and realized where he was. He was in the middle of the Wampus lounge, in the empty floor space where the second-year girl had been building her book house.

The student who had ignited his wand stood a few feet from Ant's bed. He held his wand over his head. He had dark, curly hair, piercing green-blue eyes, and olive skin. His face was shadowed by what Ant quickly realized was stubble. He was shirtless, muscled, and hairier than Ant's dad. Ant guessed he must be a seventh-year, because there was no way he was still a minor. Shortly behind him was a seventh-year girl wearing what could charitably be called a nightgown. Ant supposed he must have interrupted something, and his face went very red. The man's eyes looked distant as he read whatever was written on the thick paper binding Ant.

"Go get dressed," the young man said softly, and Ant saw the girl leave the circle of dim light, feet slapping the pavement lightly as she went back to wherever they had been before Ant called for help. Then he walked over to the side of Ant's bed. He was so close, Ant could smell his deodorant. Then he knelt down and carefully waved his wand the length of the paper, slicing it with a spell Ant guessed was the Severing Charm he'd read about. "Careful not to rip it as you get out of bed," he said to Ant. "Who hates you this much?"

Ant slid out of the bed, then turned back to read the words written there. In the wandlight, he could see that they had been written in something red, something that had dripped as the culprit wrote, making it look like the message had been written in blood.

GO HOME SCOURSPAWN