The Will of the Wands
Disclaimer: Sorry to disappoint you- but unfortunately for us, we do not own Harry Potter. But alas! We do own your reviews! And our own ideas (sniff, sniff), but we'll just have to get over that. -Siaryst & Dufoli
Chapter 1 – The Alliance
Three days into the second summer holiday for the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in which Lord Voldemort had returned, the headmaster had already stepped into action, preparing for the battle that lie ahead, crouching across the path like a lion surveying it's prey. The first thing he had managed to do was wrangle a meeting with the stubborn Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
"And as I was saying, Minister," Albus Dumbledore smiled politely, "if the wizarding world has grasped that Lord Voldemort is indeed back to power, we should discuss taking the proper precautions."
"And what do you think those would be?" Cornelius Fudge, a short, blustering man, stammered. He twirled his bowler hat in his hand as he stirred his tea nervously with the other. Apparently, he did not like the sound of Dumbledore's proposal at all.
"Well, I think an alliance between wizarding schools would suffice, for starters." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he drummed his long fingertips on his ancient desk.
"Oh, you do, do you?" asked Fudge. He gulped a bit of his tea. "I suppose that would do, but I will have to take it up with the Wizengamot, you know." Dumbledore nodded. "If that's it, Albus, then I do believe that I must be going. I will inform you when the meeting is arranged. Good day." The portly man thanked Dumbledore for the tea, and swished out of the office, robes askew.
"I do not think he is taking us very seriously, do you, Fawkes?" The white-haired man stared at a scarlet bird perched on a limb attached to the edge of the desk. The bird hooted softly in reply. "No, I didn't think so."
One week later, the same men met in a dingy old courtroom many stories underground, surrounded by stone benches filled with various witches and wizards. Seated on the bench above the podium where the man called Albus Dumbledore stood were about fifty witches and wizards all wearing plum robes that bore a silver W on the chest. They peered down at him as he began to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot," Dumbledore began, "I would like to open a discussion centering on forming an alliance between several other wizarding schools and Hogwarts. I believe that the coming months in which Lord Voldemort will most likely begin devising his plans of attack will be extremely crucial if we want to unite against him. The beginning lies with the schools. Our children are important- they will carry on our laws, our way of life. I ask if I could initiate an alliance with several educational wizarding establishments."
"This alliance will be made between the schools you have listed here?" asked a small, grey-haired wizard on the high bench.
"I do believe I have listed them all, but if you would be so kind as to read them off, to make sure." Dumbledore bowed politely to the bespectacled wizard, who had raised his eyebrows.
"Very well." He cleared his throat. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, ask the High Court of the Wizengamot to put to the vote whether or not an alliance could possibly be made between Hogwarts and the following list of schools, their locations, and reigning headmasters/headmistresses;
Beauxbatons Academy, France, Madame Olympe Maxime
Durmstrang Institute, Finland, Sir Geoffrey Harmon
Coblenz Schule of Magics, Germany, Professor Judith McGonagall
Milan Scuola di Magica for Bambinos, Italy, Professor Peter Brannon
Alfheim Academy of Magic, Norway, Professor Nichole Jensen."
"Very well, Dumbledore, that seems well in order. The vote really isn't necessary. Carry on with your alliance," the wizard on the high bench muttered.
Instead of accepting the grant, Dumbledore began to speak again. "Actually, I have received an owl from another school that wishes to join the alliance. One, I believe, from the United States."
There was a flurry of conversation in the courtroom until the bespectacled wizard sent up red sparks with a puff of smoke and a sound like a cannon with his wand.
"Silence!" he roared. "Albus, you want to add a school from the United States?"
"I would very much like to, Chief." Dumbledore bowed.
"And, er, how are you prepared to deal with the prospect of this school being the only one outside of Europe?" the wizard asked grimly. He looked as though he thought he was cornering Dumbledore by asking him this question, and that he wouldn't have any ideas as to how to deal with it. He was wrong.
"I suppose there will have to be representatives from this school stationed at Hogwarts, which will be the headquarters, naturally. There are no other schools in the United States who wish to join us- they all believe, as I feared, that Voldemort has not risen again, and are no threat to our world."
"And the name of the school?" the wizard inquired.
"Oh, yes, thank you." Dumbledore raised his wand and flicked it. In shimmering gold letters, words formed in midair.
Manhattan School of Magic, New York, Governess Jennifer McCarthy
"Very well, Dumbledore. You may carry on with your alliance. This meeting is adjourned."
"So we may begin with the alliance, then?" Minerva McGonagall asked over the rim of her goblet.
"Yes indeed, Minerva. Send owls straight away to the other schools. I daresay we shall need a name for this alliance, and also a representative teacher and student from the Manhattan School of Magic as well." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, stirring his carrots around on his plate.
"Very well, Headmaster."
Exactly two weeks and four days later, after much consultation and debating, the Will of the Wands was made between the seven schools of magic.
Millie stumbled onto the granite walkway of Platform 9 3/4. She quickly scooped up her black trunk in one hand and her small owl in the other, narrowly missing being run over by her two older brothers, who were charging through the gateway.
"Millie!" She turned, brushing her thick brown hair out of the way, to see her neighbor, Dakota, run towards her, eyes eager. "Oh my gosh, Mill, I'm soooo excited to go to Hogwarts! It'll be so much fun!" The girl wrapped Millie in an awkward hug, squashing the flustered owl between them. Poor Snowflake squawked loudly, beating her wings and thrashing against her owner's grip. Startled, Millie stepped back, into a tall 6th year boy.
"Oh, sorry." Millie mumbled, looking down at her jeans as her face flooded with color. Dakota, however, was staring unabashedly at the boy's face. Suddenly she shrieked and seized the startled stranger's hand.
"You're Harry Potter! Oh my goodness! I can't believe I finally met you! I've even read about you on the Internet! You're the most famous-"
Millie looked away, ashamed, as her friend gushed on, pumping Harry's hand energetically. Harry, however, was looking like he would rather get run over by the scarlet Hogwarts Express than stand and listen to a first year rattle off his credentials.
"Um, yeah, ok. Gotta go." He quickly dove into the throng of people worming into the train, and Dakota went into a blissful silence for a whole thirty seconds.
"I think he likes me, Millie, don't you? I can't believe it! I wonder when he's gonna ask me out. I mean, really, did you see the way he looked-"
"Dakota?" Millie broke in. "Hello? Dakota? Please. Be. Quiet."
A thoughtful silence ensued, lasting a record amount of time for her friend, which meant about one and a half minutes.
"No, but seriously. He actually spoke to me. Seriously. Don't you think he's cute? I think if I were his-"
"Shut up, Dakota." Millie grumbled, weaving through the press of people and onto the train. Her face was still hot from the encounter. Harry would most likely make a point to never even look at her again; much less even speak to her, in fear that Dakota might be lurking nearby, ready for his autograph.
Inside, the train felt crisp and cold, unlike the head swimming fumes of exhaust and grease on the platform. Settling comfortably into one of the seats, she turned to the window, watching the other side of the station for a while. Suddenly she heard someone enter the car. Turning slightly, Millie blinked. There sitting at the far end of the bench was another girl her age. She was clutching a suitcase plastered with bumper stickers reading things like 'American Pride', 'Phantom of the Opera', 'God Bless the USA', 'Aerosmith Tour 2003', and 'Support the Red White and Blue!' As if this wasn't revealing enough, her shirt was from company called Old Navy, an American flag plastered across the front.
'Hmmmm,' Millie thought to herself. 'I wonder what an American is doing here.'
Dakota tossed her dark braids impatiently. "Come on, Mum! We've got to go, you said so yourself! Come on, I have to talk to Millie. Oh, I hope we're in the same house! Do you think Millie has already left? Do we have to be there early?"
It was September first. Dakota Williams, like her sisters Kennedy and Riley before her, was finally going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wouldn't be totally alone in the journey, either. Her neighbor and all-around best friend Millie was going as well.
"I don't think Millie is badgering her parents to take her to King's Cross this early. Why don't we Floo to Diagon Alley and browse around until your train leaves?" Mrs. Williams breezed into her youngest daughter's bedroom, which was plastered with posters of a blazing orange labeled The Chudley Cannons. "Sweetheart, don't you think it's a bit bright to have all of these hanging up in here?" She stared at the posters in distaste.
"No, Mum. I like Quidditch," Dakota said happily, jumping on her bed. She hopped around chanting, 'I'm going to Hogwarts, I'm going to Hogwarts!' Her tightly braided hair flopped on every bounce. In the corner, her ferret squeaked.
"But Dakota, wouldn't you like a nice picture of some flowers or something? Kennedy has an aquarium theme. Wouldn't that be darling in here? Especially with the big windows? Or, you could use Riley's horse pictures she used to have in her room, now that she's decided to go classical. Speaking of which, that piano needs tuning." Mrs. Williams looked at her youngest daughter and shook her head. Where had she gone wrong?
"Nope, I like Quidditch!" Dakota sprang from the bed. "Is Dad coming shopping with us? Maybe he'll show me the broom he used to have! He always said that they had them in a museum!" She laughed at the thought as she landed neatly on the floor.
"No, your father has business to take care of. He's an important man." She pulled Dakota over to where she was sitting in the window. "Now, do you want to wear your hair down or leave the braids?"
"Um, what do you think? Which one will go better with my new Hogwarts robes?" At the moment, Dakota was wearing the Muggle clothes she preferred; cargo khakis, a blue short-sleeved shirt, and Nike shoes.
"I think the braids would look cute. But your sisters had their hair down when we took their picture in the hall before leaving," her mother said.
"Braids it is!" Dakota announced. Mrs. Williams groaned inwardly.
"Whatever you want, Pumpkin. Now, do you hear that? I think Diagon Alley is calling to us," she said, cupping her ear.
"Come on! Let's go!" Dakota jumped up, pulling her mother with her. They stampeded down the stairs to the marble fireplace in the front hall of their manor, in which her father's business partners often came through at different intervals.
"One pinch, that's all we need...do you want to go first?" Dakota took the grains of powder from her mother's outstretched palm.
"Diagon Alley!" she shouted. With a blaze of green flames, the eleven year old vanished.
As soon as Mrs. Williams had joined her daughter, they set off hand in hand down the cobblestone street. After browsing around in Apothecary and Flourish and Blotts, it was well past ten-thirty. Mrs. Williams told Dakota that it was time to catch the next fire to King's Cross.
As she pushed the trolley towards Platform 9 3/4, Dakota heard the unmistakable voices of her sisters. She grumbled inwardly. They always had to come along and ruin whatever she had going for her. She remembered how it was when they went to Hogwarts. One year she'd been constantly in trouble for being 'rowdy and inattentive'. When end-of-the-year marks were sent home, her parents were so proud of her! Dakota had been in all her glory. Until Kennedy and Riley came home the next day.
She glowered at the memory. Her parents had gushed over her sisters for weeks afterward. Riley had gotten eleven OWLs and Kennedy had been chosen as the next Head Girl. What dim spotlight had shone on Dakota momentarily had been wrenched away from her.
Dakota took a deep breath and glanced behind her. Her sister Riley was showing off her new haircut, which had changed the long flowing hair that Dakota loved to a short, spiky bob. Her mother seemed to love it. Go figure, Dakota thought bitterly. She couldn't wait to get away from them.
"Oh, Riley, it looks so sweet!" Mrs. Williams was beside herself with glee. It was true- the short hair accentuated her middle daughter's lean figure, and with the dark hair and tan skin they'd inherited from her Sri Lankan upbringing, she looked stunning. But that was to be expected- Riley had always been the smart dresser.
"You think? I thought it'd contrast the boring outfits I have to wear for Ministry recitals nicely," Riley said coolly. She hated dressing up, unless she could wear whatever she wanted. Right now, she was wearing black jeans and a Weird Sisters concert shirt.
"I told her Father wouldn't be pleased," said Kennedy, whose long hair was pulled back into a professional french braid. "You know how he likes for us to look good."
"Your father will be fine with this. I thought he'd have kittens when Riley came home with the beadwork," their mother replied. Dakota smirked. Yes, that had been a sight. Her father had taken one look at Riley's hair and then treated the family to a nice long rant about how he was a respected member of the wizarding community, and his family was supposed to support him and reflect their stature. Glancing at her wristwatch, Dakota nearly fainted. It was five minutes to eleven!
"Mum!" She stared at her mother. She was lost in conversation with her older daughters about something- probably about how completely darling they could make my bedroom look while I'm at school, Dakota thought.
"Mum, we've gotta go, the train leaves in five minutes!" Mrs. Williams looked up. A dawning look of comprehension spread across her gentle face.
"Oh, yes, you're right. Why don't you go along and find Millie, there's a good girl! We'll be there in a minute, popkin."
Not waiting for her mother, Dakota ran at the barrier separating the Muggle platforms and the Hogwarts platform. She looked in awe at the Hogwarts Express. It was even bigger than she remembered it when she saw her sisters off.
After a brief encounter with Millie and the famous Harry Potter, Dakota loaded her things on the train and stood on the step, waiting for her mother. She didn't come. The whistle blew, signaling the one-minute-warning. She sighed, and picked up her shoulder bag and her pet ferret's cage, and went to find a compartment.
She found an empty one, with large seat cushions the color of bluebells. She threw her things down beside her, and stared out the window facing the barrier. Perhaps her mother would wave or something. Slowly the train pulled out of the station, and Dakota looked down at her ferret sadly.
"Oh, Tava, why didn't she come to say goodbye?" The black animal didn't reply, but slunk out of his cage and curled up in her lap. Dakota stroked his fur mindlessly, watching the country scenery take the place of the platform she had once loved.