A/N: Hello lovely peoples who have graced my story with your presence! As a forewarning you should know that this is my absolutely first fanfiction, (I've never even written one let alone published one)so I apologize in advance if it elicits the need to gouge your eyes out with the nearest sharp object. If not I hope you enjoy and don't be intimidated by the favorite/follow/review buttons, they aren't as terrifying as they think they are.
DISCLAIMER: I unfortunately do not own the wonderful world that is Harry Potter and all it entails.
(Updated Version: 7/6/2018)
Just one more glance, then I'll be ready to go. Or so I keep telling myself. All trunks are haphazardly closed, four of the seven beds in various stages of made and not. The other three primly made, not a wrinkle or stain blemishing the plum coverlet, as if they had been empty these past six years. A blank slate. Really, it's not the last time I'll see the room, we'll return for Commencement. The logical side of me insists I'm being melodramatic. But for all intents and purposes this is it. No more all-night study sessions fueled by wideye potions, no more borderline abusive pillow fights. Cecilia and I won't get to roll our eyes at Morgan's penchant for drama, or giggle at Tiffany and Emmaline's cracked out antics. The plastic glow in the dark stars that have been there since first year were the last to be packed, carefully tucked away with all the other junk I deemed necessary. It's doubtful that I'll actually need them in Scotland but I wanted to bring them with me for kicks and giggles. A small bit of home to go with me. Who would ever think that so many memories can be tied into one dormitory?
All of this has reached its end, or at least for myself, Morgan and Jessica. They're not exactly my first choice for companions, we get along well enough. But they make me want to practice silencing charms. And test their permanency. With an inhale I try to memorize the scent of mahogany and cotton candy, the unique combination a result of the mischief of bored second years. Sighing I lug myself and the ancient green suitcase out of our dorm.
My mind feels like it is being assaulted by a whirlwind of emotions each trying to stake their claim. Nostalgia, sorrow, excitement, curiosity, anxiety, but the one common thread weaving through them all is determination. After six years of spending my time here learning, it's odd knowing my last year will be spent somewhere else. However, it could be worse. At least we know what's happening. I almost pity the hosting schools' students, they are simply left in the dark until the last possible moment. The slightly mischievous side of me finds it somewhat comical and I'm anxious to see their reactions. I console myself knowing they didn't have to endure the mountain of apprehension that has decided to relocate onto my shoulders until this very moment. Then again how exactly do you expect a bunch of seventeen-year olds be able to pack all of their belongs for the school year without telling them that their school is participating in this year's Triwizard Tournament?
After the catastrophe that occurred the last time the Triwizard Tournament took place, the Ministry had been hesitant to host another one since. But after years of pursuing it the Minister for Magic of the United Kingdom, Kingsley Shacklebolt, accomplished just that. From what I've read in the Spectral Herald, Shacklebolt has been campaigning that it would be an opportunity that should be utilized to fortify the bond between the younger magical generations once again. It would allow cross cultural relationships to form, supporting a unified magical community. However part of his plan fell flat when he couldn't convince the French Ministry to cooperate. The Beauxbatons Academy didn't express interest to participate once again after the slight they were dealt in 1994. Still distraught that Hogwarts was admitted two champions while they had to make due with just one. I'd heard from my friend Sophia, who often visits her family in France, that they also weren't inclined to spending another "meezerable" year at Hogwarts. Apparently it's not up to their standards and the climate is too harsh for their delicate demeanors. Or at least that's what she tells us, we laugh at the idea of them spending a winter in the Colonial U.S.
Their loss has become our gain though, to fill in the gap Shacklebolt instead extended the invitation to the Salem's Witches Institute and our brother school Ipswich Wizards Institute. The two counterparts joined together in 1893 to become the Essex Institute for the Magically Gifted, for short we just call it EIMG. Of course, we leapt at the chance to prove our worth; it always seems like the American magical community gets forgotten. As if we are a separate entity that is neglected and allowed to do as it sees fit. Which is nice in a way, but still disconcerting. I guess we all yearn for a form of validation.
Continuing the track downward, my suitcase making a satisfying thunk thunk thunk sound every time it hits the next platform. "Oh no there's an elephant stampede coming our way, clear the area; CLEAR THE AREA!" Finishing the last of the stairs I look up, not that I needed to. Only Emmy would make such a lame joke, not to mention her iconic southern drawl. Cecilia just shakes her head with good humor, she's always been the mom of the group. They're still amused I choose to carry out most tasks sans magic, preferring my mundane nature. I find it lazy to levitate my bags down rather than just simply carry them. Emmy has her tiny arms splayed out as if protecting any one standing behind her from my descent of the stairs, head darting from left to right like she's checking on peoples wellbeing. Cecilia says she's rambunctious, I say deranged. I'm not sure what she thinks she can accomplish with her tiny curvy frame, she can hardly stretch her one arm past Cecilia's body. At only 5'5 I still tower over her, but I suppose that's what makes her best suited to be our seeker.
"Your jealousy is showing Emmy, I am nothing if not the epitome of grace and poise." I automatically retort delivering my most lady-like curtsey, just barely catching myself on the edge of the couch.
"Yes Sawyer you have all the grace of a raging Yeti attempting the foxtrot." Cecilia answers in between snorts of laughter her long dark brown curls being tossed over her shoulder as she shoves Em's arms back. She momentarily looks irritated but it quickly sputters out into delight. I'm secretly convinced that she was Tinkerbell in a past life, they both share light blonde hair (although hers is currently cropped into a pixie cut, very suiting) delicate facial features and a small frame but it goes beyond that. Neither of them seems to hold more than one emotion at a time, whatever she's feeling she puts her all into it regardless of how dangerous the outcome may be. You can always tell when Em is about to do something devious because there will be a mischievous quirk to her lips and a twinkle in her eye, both of which I'm noticing right now.
"Touché." I say slowly waiting to see what she's about to do. Next thing I know I am being bombarded with hugs and being squeezed as we become an entanglement of girly limbs and my luggage is knocked out of my hands. Waves of affection crash over me; these are my very best friends. Six years of living together and going through puberty, sharing classes, meals, laughter and a fair amount of tears will do that to you. So much time and effort has gone into creating secret handshakes, inside jokes, coordinated walks; a lot of bonding will occur when you attend a school with no means of electronics. Entertainment requires imagination and we had it in spades. We were the three musketeers, three amigos and if you ask Emmy we were the three narwhales. Which according to her are the aquatic relatives of unicorns.
"Our little muggle has grown up so much." Emmy wails right in my ear while we're still embracing. Oddly enough to her that is a form of endearment. Even though that word used to sting, in her familiar twang it's loving. I guess that's just a part of being southern, coming from Oklahoma she has this ability to say just about anything and it will sound sweeter than peach cobbler
"Psshhh I put the muggle in muggleborn." I finish weakly the lame joke that we thought was clever all those years ago. I'm kind of anomaly at the Salem's Witches Institute, being one of the few muggleborns to be admitted. There's very little history on it, but it had been so long that it was a culture shock to the students and faculty. The founders of the school were originally Sarah Solart, Sarah Warren, and Tituba. For anyone who has even the slightest knowledge of the Salem witch trials will recognize those names as the woman who were first accused of witch craft. Due to the violent history between the founders and the villagers muggleborns aren't very common. It's not that they are pure blood elitist; there are plenty of witches and wizards with varying blood statuses. People marry muggles all the time, of course there are still a few who pride themselves on purity. But in my opinion, that's their loss, I mean you can only interbreed so many times until it starts affecting the gene pool.
My reception wasn't the warmest when I first started. I still remember how some of the meaner students would say I reeked of torches. Girls like Alexandria King. They thought it was clever because it was one of the ways muggles would execute "witches" during the Salem trials, burning them at the stake. However my ostracization didn't last long. One day she and her clique had me corned after taking my wand away yelling cruel names at me saying I didn't deserve to be there. From seemingly out of nowhere they started falling to the ground paralyzed and when I looked up from my crouch I saw Cecilia with Emmaline not far behind standing there panting heavy, wands still raised. Everyone involved had a months' worth of detention, and Alexandria and her lackeys had two months for instigating. The three of us have been best friends ever since. That's when I first realized what it truly meant to be in Solartia, even though they hardly knew me. In Solartia we're a family, we're a pack, loyalty goes a far way even though you may not like someone you still have to protect them; and they did just that.
"Okay you tiny midgets let go of me!" I shriek at them as I try to struggle out of their death grip and my memories. But to no avail I accomplished nothing in the physical, only my thoughts falling off.
"You know the rules Sawyer." Cecilia reminds me, squeezing me extra hard to prove she won't let go. "On the count of three, one-two-three!" At three we all released our loudest and best imitation of a wolf's howl, some of us are eerily better than others. Dissolving into a fit of giggles we finally let go each other so that we can breathe again.
"Do you really have to go; you could stay here and just skip the whole deal. We could even tell them that you have become deathly ill and are incapable of leaving the campus." Emmy whines this at me sporting her best puppy face, except it's so exaggerated it looks more like a pink slug has taken residency on her lower lip. At 17 we are all capable of behaving maturely but we don't feel the need to use a façade that we're beyond the age of still kidding around. Unlike some of peers we're comfortable with who we have become and refuse to let go of our inner child.
"Or you guys could just come with us! It's not like you don't meet the requirements. I mean just think at the possibilities, traveling, adventure, near death experiments, hot British guys." Waggling my eyebrows on the last point I offer them my cheesiest grin.
"Yeah if only I weren't the Solartia Quidditch team captain." Em quickly responds. "It's not like we aren't already losing one of our best players." Narrowing her eyes at my decision to forfeit my position as chaser, I fight off my guilt knowing that Travis a 3rd year in our house showed great potential and should prove a fair chaser. Besides they'll still have Alice and Jace. I had always been fascinated with flying; even before I found out I was a witch. As kids my brothers and I would take turns jumping off the top bunk with objects to see who could "float" the longest. So of course when during our first year we received flying lessons, I was instantly drawn to it. Which isn't to say I was naturally good, rather the opposite really. I couldn't even get the broom to raise, I slid off of it, and acquainted my face with the trees around campus more than I care to admit. But I was determined to perfect the skill and joined the Solartia team my 2nd year after one of the backup chasers was seriously injured. I've been a fixture on the team ever since, until now.
"Sissy you know I would love to, but I can't just ignore that I'm Head Girl. However, the British guys' aspect is tempting." Cecilia says rapidly to divert Em's irritation, she slips in the term so easily that it reminds just how close we are. Although the three of us our best friends, I'm even closer to Cecilia. We often introduce ourselves to strangers as sisters getting a kick out of their dubious looks, it started a couple of years ago and calling each other Sissy stuck. Cecilia and I share almost no common features except that we're both human and female. She possesses this exotic quality from her Hispanic heritage, with big deep brown eyes, naturally full lips, and loose dark brown curls. Not to mention her short albeit voluptuous figure, needless to say she turns heads. While in contrast I look like your typical American girl next door, rocking the round face, large almond shaped hazel eyes, and wavy blonde hair. Don't get me wrong I'm not insecure about my appearance, I come across fairly pretty I'm just nothing spectacular.
"Yeah I know." I pout at them. "But it won't prevent my slow descent into depression of being without my two favorite people in the world," Heaving dramatically I throw my wrist across my forehead to demonstrate my weariness. After glancing down at my watch I notice its twenty minutes after ten and I'm supposed to be at the main courtyard for our departure at 10:30. "Sorry guys but if I don't leave now I'm going to be late."
I don't even make two steps before Em has her hand thrusted up in front of my face. What is truly concerning are the impish looks they're both sharing. "Close your eyes," Em barks at me "and no peaking!" Doing as I'm told I set my bag down once more and cover my eyes with my hands. All I can hear is a rattling metallic sound and mysterious muttering. "OPEN!"
When I raise my eyelids I'm not even sure what I'm seeing at first, they have it shoved so close to my face that the bars are almost bumping my nose. Looking beyond that I see a wide pair of black eyes edged with tawny and white feathers leading out to a perfect heart shaped outline of the beautiful creature. "You guys got me an owl!" My elated squeal was probably heard throughout campus, but I couldn't care less. I have my own owl, over the years I've always just used the schools because I didn't see the point of having one. The only people I wrote to were my family. Over the holidays most of my friends had internet and therefore Facebook so that's how we kept in touch.
"We couldn't not be able to talk to you the entire school year, so this was the only solution." My sister informs me reasonably with a dazzling smile gracing her features. Without my permission, my eyes began to water at the overwhelming emotion. Gah I'm overreacting today, curse my female hormones amplifying every tiny little thing. Wiping at my eyes I hug them once again thanking them repeatedly until they threaten to smack me if I don't stop. Emmaline kindly reminds me that I have three minutes or I am going to be late, and also that my new owl's name is Narwhal (of course she already named him that; it would go against their morals to give him a normal name).
As I'm walking out of the common room for the last time with my suitcase and newly acquired Narwhal in hand I hear Emmy yelling over my shoulder "Go show those cocky Europeans just how bad ass we Americans can be and bring home that Triwizard Cup!" Without turning around, I swear I hear Cecilia telling her that you can't use it as a gauntlet and drink alcohol from it. She's a charmer that one.
XXX
Tearing through the campus I desperately try to reach the courtyard in time, I could kill those two for making me late. I had set aside plenty of time to make it to the meeting place with even some to spare. But then they had to go and get all sentimental and sweet and give me Narwhal, just the thought of his name makes me giggle. Or at least I would have if I wasn't panting for breath, its moments like these that make me wish that apparating was a possibility on campus. Taking the last left turn past one of the archaic brick buildings used for lower level classes that leads to the courtyard, I'm almost there when I collide into another body. My bags go flying along with Narwhal's cage as I come crashing to the ground. Disoriented I groan at the pain of catching myself on my elbow, biting my lip against the pain I raise up to see what happened to find no one else but Alexandria King lurking above me. Yay, my favorite tormentor.
"Oh my Sawyer, I am so sorry I didn't see you there!" She girlishly squeals in her fakely sweet voice like it was truly an accident. I quit giving her the benefit of the doubt over five years ago "I was just coming to get you, we were all so worried, that you had changed your mind about going." Knowing her she's more likely to hex me to ensure I don't go. Glancing beyond her tall figure I see that she's drawn quite the attention and is putting on a rather lovely little show. Extending her hand out to me, I realize I don't have a lot of options for the situation. Alexandria likes to play the perfect little witch who does no wrong and is kind to everyone; she's always reminded me of deceiving candy coated dragon feces. I'd rather eat my own shoe than take her offered hand, but if I don't I'll just come off looking like the bad person. Assessing this all within the span of three seconds, I take her sickeningly smooth hand plastering on my most convincing smile letting her pull me back up. When I'm once more on my feet she drops my hands and moves to pick up my scattered belongings. Grabbing a very flustered Narwhal in his cage I wheel back around as she is giving my suitcase back to me. She leans just close enough to be in my face and mouths MUDBLOOD at me. Well two can play this game. Locking arms with her I put a bounce in my step like we're just the best of gal pals.
"You know Lexitive," I start in a falsely cheerful tone, tacking on her most loathed nickname. Immature, yes, but effective. "I'd rather be a mudblood any day than dare think of the mutations going on in your polluted gene pool from all the incestuous interbreeding." I say this low enough so only she can hear, but from afar we just look like two excited girls gabbing away. Letting go of her arm I flutter my fingers at her and catch up with the rest of the group waiting for us without sparing her a second glance, I would bet five gallons she's already seething with anger.
There are exactly twenty of us going to Hogwarts to potentially compete in the Triwizard Tournament, ten from Tituba, seven from Solartia, and a huge intimidating three from Warren. Nine females and eleven males, although I'm still pretty bummed that neither Sissy or Em are going. Luckily for me Sebastian Quinn is going, if I had to pick a third best friend it would be him.
"Sawyer!" speak of the devil. "I was wondering what rabbit hole you had fallen down this time, you're normally so punctual." He kindly chides casting his sage green eyes down at me. And when I say this I mean it, at a disturbing 6'5 he's easily the tallest at school. If I hadn't seen for myself just how slight he was our first year I never would have believed it. He had always been the smallest of our year and most kids didn't hesitate to point this out to him, even a few of our housemates. That's probably why we grew so close, the lovely bond of being outcasts. But when we came back for third year he had sprung up to a staggering 5'10 and was gaining some muscle to his previous skin and bones frame. Puberty was treating him kindly and people were noticing. Since then he's become everyone's favorite person, he's always been amiable, funny and charming it just took the rest awhile to recognize it.
"Oh you know I had to say my goodbyes to Tweedledee and Tweedledum," I respond affectionately sidling up next to him. "then had a lovely encounter with my favorite Queen of Hearts." Rolling my eyes at her petty behavior, I kind of feel bad sinking to her level and verbally lashing out at her. But if I hadn't she would h avekept digging her figurative talons in until she got a reaction.
"Yeah I saw, down kitty." Laughing at his own cleverness he makes a pathetic meow sound forming his hand into an imitation of a claw. Alexandria being in Tituba where the house mascot is a black cat or panther depending on whom you're asking.
"Solartian's don't meow we ferociously growl." I retort playfully narrowing my eyes, to further prove my point I jokingly bite at his bicep that is at my level. What can I say I'm a wolf through and through.
"You really should see a professional about your odd tendency to bite people." He tells me in a fake scold, I've been doing that for years and I have yet to see it bother him.
"It's how I show my love, I like to think that it just adds to my quirky charm." Batting my eyelashes up at him, as obnoxiously as I can. Looking around I notice that we haven't even made the preparations of leaving, the other students are still milling about with their luggage on the ground just chatting. "Hey where is-"
"Headmistress Milton, right behind you my dear." I give a slight jump at her abrupt appearance, but it actually isn't that uncommon for her. Headmistress Milton is a relatively unassuming figure with average height and build, plain black hair with silver threaded through it, and gentle brown eyes who appears to look fifty. But I wouldn't recommend judging her by looks alone she's much older than that and the furthest thing from average; she is a wily old bat with an eccentric sense of humor. She's also incredibly caring, fair, and would do anything for her students. Milton can be stern when need be, earning your respect not demanding it from you although she more than deserves it.
"Sawyer, although it does warm an old woman's heart to see your enthusiasm for being a Solartian, if you could refrain from biting Mr. Quinn I would be much obliged." A genuine smile crosses my features as I hear her say this, as a student here she was also in Solartia. Unlike some of the faculty she has never treated me poorly because of my heritage.
"Alright students," she turns addressing the entire group easily capturing their attention smiling at each and every one of them. "I know you are all excited about the trip. However, decorum requires that I remind you that this is a privilege, not a right. You have proved your worthiness of this honor as exemplary young adults and I expect it to remain this way. Any extreme shenanigans or tomfoolery occurring, and I will send you right back here without even sparing it a second thought." At this she pauses and pointedly looks at Blake Thompson and Jason Maddox, the class clowns of our year. "If you are carrying out such behavior, do try to at least not get caught. We have a reputation to not only uphold but also improve. You will treat both the faculty and the facilities with the utmost respect. As well as their students" Glancing down at her watch, she tuts at the unsatisfactory time. "Now we must head down to the old pier on the beach that is where we will be departing for Hogwarts. And do make haste." Having been properly dismissed, we all start shuffling about picking back up our belongings as we begin the five-minute walk to the pier. Nodding at Sebastian with a nervous grin on my face we start our descent.
Campus is located on one of the many islands that rest on the coastline of Massachusetts in the Salem Sound; it's roughly five miles in its circumference and has both a forest and a small lake within it. To the untrained eye you'll just see a vast landscape of more ocean, and the magic surrounding it will maneuver the ship around the island unbeknownst to them. Think of it as the Bermuda Triangle, no one can ever find it. The only place you are capable of apparating is on the singular pier where we arrive and depart every year via ferry.
"I wonder if we're just apparating there or what?" Sebastian asks somewhat bitterly. "Milton hasn't budged on giving anything away; she says it's a 'surprise'". He has a problem with not knowing something; his curiosity practically eats him alive and I sometimes question if he should be in Tituba because of it.
"Doubt it, not unless we want to do side-along." Rumor has it not everyone passed, I just barely scraped by. "Ooh look, we're about to find out." I mutter back as we reach the pier, walking down the old rickety wood I take my steps cautiously afraid of falling into the brackish water. It's not that I can't swim, I love swimming; but I've been told horror stories of what it is that wades in the water to prevent intruders. As we reach the end of the peer it's no mystery what we're all thinking 'What's next?' With the question resting just on the tip of my tongue Milton raises one hand to signify that we need to be quiet. Seconds tick by turning into minutes as we silently wait, for what we don't know. Peering out into the empty waters I notice a vague object start to peak on the horizon. Whatever it is, it's getting concernedly larger by the millisecond until I'm seeing a small roundish island about forty feet wide that wasn't there just a minute ago. It appears to be just like any other island with a rock encrusted shore ebbing away to some sparse foliage. I've seen many weird things since starting Essex, even turned Sebastian into a platypus once but this has got to take the cake; nothing can out trump this. And then it popped its enormous turtle head up, I stand corrected.
"For any of you familiar with Dreadful Denizens of the Deep you will be able to recognize this magnificent creature as an aspidochelone, his name is Nicodemus and he will be our form of transportation."