Kentarre didn't know what she expected of Hogwarts, but it
certainly wasn't what she got. When she received her letter, she assumed
it was a prank from one of her colleagues, and thought nothing of it.
However, when she received another the next week, and another the next, she
realized with a shock that it was genuine; there really was something like
this that existed. She had only been in England a few months, and Bristol
only a few days. Not that she liked the place; actually, quite the
contrary. This was the third week since she had received the first of her
green-inscribed letters; she had been delivered her third one just this
past noontime. "Oh, all right," she cried irritably just after seeing what
had fallen through the mail slot. "I'll go to this baka train station, if
they'll only leave me alone!" Picking up the solitary parchment envelope,
she walked briskly back to her rather bare kitchen. Though she was a young
girl of fifteen, she was well able to take care of herself since her
parents abandoned her; this was one of the many reasons she never stayed in
one place longer than a week. Where she got enough money to support
herself was no one's business but her own, and she did not welcome
strangers.
While her eyes remained fixed on the paper on her knee, Kentarre's left hand lifted and pointed two fingers in the direction of the coffeemaker. She heard the machine switch on and immediately begin drip, drip, dripping into the awaiting mug. Getting up and brushing a few stray silvery bangs from her forehead, she stretched but did not allow herself to yawn, and trudged down the hall to her room, which, like the kitchen, was sparingly furnished. Her footsteps echoed down the low-ceilinged hall, while the naked light bulb swung above her by a few wires.
Arriving at her room, her eyes swiftly searched the area for anything that was out of place. She was, by nature, very suspicious, and had many experiences with burglars, intruders, thieves, and the like. The girl began to dress herself, and once done, slipped back into the kitchen, though she didn't stop there; she padded onward to the den and proceeded to gather all the things from this room that were hers. This sequence continued for every room in the house until she had collected a small bundle of things in her arms (excluding, of course, the coffeemaker, which was not hers, and the mug, likewise). These she placed in a suitcase that exactly fitted all of these things and would not fit any more.
After draining the coffee in a few gulps, she made her way to the phone, the only thing left in the den. Kentarre picked up the receiver, dialed a number, and held a brief conversation with the other end of the line. After the conversation was cancelled and the receiver replaced, Kentarre made one more quick check around the house and left, closing the front door with a finality that echoed throughout the silent and empty house.
Kentarre proceeded to catch a dismal train ride to London, on which she said nothing and ate nothing, preferring to sit quietly in her car and shake her head at anyone who came in and offered her something. At one point in the trip, a boy about her age or perhaps younger poked his head in and asked if he could sit in the car with her, stating that all the other ones were full. She gave him a skeptical look for a moment, in which he stood in silent anticipation, then allowed him to enter and sit. He made a few brave stabs at conversation, in which she either shook her head or gave him querical looks. After about thirty minutes he declared that he was going to go, erm, relieve himself, but he'd be back. She excused him with another annoyed stare, and he quickly left. Kentarre knew he wouldn't be back, so she settled down once more and stared out the window.
The train arrived in London around two, and disembarking proved to be more difficult than it looked. A large, bustling crowd lingered around the station, most of its entities simply milling around and watching the coming and going of trains. Kentarre hated time-wasters, and she thumbed her nose at a particularly large group of obviously foreign speculators.
Kentarre made her way through the filthy streets of London, not really paying attention to where she was going, but going all the same. The letters were in her pocket, and their directions were clear. She had never been to London before, but, as was the same with all cities, she strode around like she had lived there her entire life, knowing exactly which direction to go when. A tiny voice in her head that she had never heard before in her life and knew not whence it came spoke without warning. *Look to your right,* it said, *and you will know from there whence to go.* She paused in the middle of the walkway, ignoring those people behind her who ploughed into her and then past her. Her head turned to her right; an extraordinarily ordinary sight met her eye. It was a run-down pub, whose peeling sign above said "The Leaky Cauldron". She stepped inside and was met with another ordinary sight. Customers sat at the rickety tables and chairs, and a few stood near the walls, deep in conversation. Kentarre proceeded into the little building, moving aside to be out of the light and the doorway. She happened to catch snitches of talk as she stood there, and these greatly interested her. A group of elderly people stood not two feet from her, and their conversation rose above the rest. One of the men was saying, "How did you get here so fast, Vivian? The passage is all the way across the bar from here, and we see everyone that comes in or out of Diagon Alley. I distinctly remember never seeing you come through."
The woman beside him snorted, "Because you're blind as a bat, that's why, Wallace! You couldn't tell me from the Minister of Magic!" At the word "magic", Kentarre's ears perked. Now she understood why the little voice had spoken; this was the place she needed to go to get all of the school supplies that were on the list of oddments.
She suddenly noticed a small trickle of people come in from the door in the rear of the bar. Among them was an elderly woman who appeared to be in a great rush, darting here and there with surprising speed, looking at faces and craning her neck, apparently searching for something or someone. As Kentarre watched her, the woman suddenly caught her eye and began to hurriedly make her way toward Kentarre's end of the bar. Assuming she was heading for the door, Kentarre backed even further into the shadows, attempting to get out of her way. However, the woman did not continue on past her, but stopped directly in front of her.
The woman wore square spectacles and a very businesslike expression. She addressed Kentarre, saying, "Are you Kentarre Hisakata?" Arcing one eyebrow, Kentarre responded with a nod. "I am Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore sent me to bring you to the school to settle certain matters of your attendance. Come with me."
Without waiting to see if Kentarre would follow, she pivoted and just as swiftly made her way back across the bar. Kentarre, amused but quite curious, followed suit just as swiftly, not to be outdone by an old woman whom she had never met before. The lady's grey and rather dull cloak swished through the swirling crowd, and Kentarre tagged close behind.
The woman led her through the back door and out of the building, finally coming upon a brick wall that had several trashcans lined up against it. Rummaging in her dress pocket, the old woman drew out a long, slender sprig of a dark brown wood. With this, she tapped a brick in the wall three times, causing a chain reaction; the bricks melted away to reveal a bustling, busy world behind them. The remaining bricks formed an arch that soared above their heads, and it was through this that the woman, wasting no time, marched. "Come along," she said brusquely, and Kentarre, having no alternative at the moment, obeyed. The new person, it seemed, was very good at maneuvering through the crowds; she seemed to flow by without effort. This was all right with Kentarre; she wasn't often curious, so the sightseeing didn't really matter much. That is not to say that she didn't notice anything; rather, she noticed quite a bit with her peripheral vision, but if she saw anything out of place, it didn't affect her serene expression.
Eventually, they came to a fork in the road, at which the woman, Professor McGonagall, turned to the left, just avoiding being hit by a rushing crowd of young boys who were headed for a shop whose sign said, "Quality Quidditch Supplies" in gold letters. Even so, Kentarre managed to maneuver around them in the nick of time. The left fork led them down a straight path, which seemed to scale a small hill. Once at the top, Professor McGonagall paused by a lamppost that was near the side of the street. When Kentarre came up, she pointed down the street. Peering through the evening mist, Kentarre saw, looming at her from a rather large distance, a castle. It was, though it was hard to tell from this distance, enormous, sitting there, bathed in orange light from the setting sun. "That," said Professor McGonagall, "is Hogwarts." Silence followed this remark, silence punctured only by the noise of the street around them. Then the professor said, "Come along. We're almost there." With that, she started off again with a new sort of vigor in her step, and Kentarre was left no choice but to follow.
When they arrived at the castle gate, which was flanked by two statues of winged boars. The castle, growing larger and larger by the minute, loomed at her as they approached. Professor McGonagall was saying something about carriages that were out of order, but Kentarre was only half-listening. She was taking in her surroundings, drinking in the sights and seeing nothing very heartening. The lake, glassy and smooth, glimmered darkly at her, while the forest behind it jeered from afar. The grass around the castle was marked all around by shadows, including her own. Ascending the cold stone steps, Kentarre noticed the front doors for the first time. They were the height of three men, and at least seven people could walk abreast through it. The professor banged the brass knocker once, and only minutes later, a figure wearing dark robes opened it. It was a man, pale-faced and dark-haired, and he had a most disdainful look on his face. However, when he saw who was at the door, he pulled it wide and said, "Professor McGonagall," in a stern and unfriendly manner. Professor McGonagall replied, "Professor Snape," in a crisp, businesslike tone, which was completely void of all emotion. Kentarre's own reaction was not quite unlike Professor McGonagall's. She could see that this teacher would have to do with some consideration, along with some manipulation, for he clearly did not approve of her. Professor McGonagall started off briskly down a wide corridor to the left, and Kentarre, not wanting to be humiliatingly lost, followed once more.
She found herself being led down several brightly lit halls, each one lined with differently colored carpets and tapestries. Finally, the elderly professor stopped and faced a carved wooden gargoyle, whose mouth was open, revealing jagged, uneven teeth. "Butter quills," muttered she. The gargoyle spontaneously sprang aside, revealing a small door, through which the professor strode, towing a bewildered but silent and sober-faced Kentarre.
The door led to a spiral staircase, which was, even stranger still, moving upwards continuously. This the professor stepped on, and it carried her upward with it. Kentarre followed suit. The staircase, it turned out, ended at a short passageway, at the end of which was a door much like the one that was concealed by the gargoyle, only this one was partly open. Professor McGonagall tapped gently on it, and a voice from inside, a voice that hinted of age in body but not in spirit, replied, "Enter." Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and ushered Kentarre inside, closing the door after doing so. The room, Kentarre observed, was round and furnished with many oddments and questionable items. Many of these were indescribable, but the walls were lined with pictures of elderly women and men, all moving. To one side of the room was a desk, and at it sat a man whose long, white hair and beard flowed out from underneath a pointed hat. He had a wrinkled, friendly smile, and his lightning blue eyes sparkled under bushy, white eyebrows.
"Professor Dumbledore," said Kentarre's accompanist sharply, "this is Kentarre Hisakata. Kentarre, this is Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts." The man gave Kentarre a calculating look, which Kentarre countered with one of her own. "Hello," said he. "I understand that certain arrangements must be made on the terms of your attendance at this school. Minerva, thank you for bringing her, I will not be needing any more services." Professor McGonagall promptly left the room. "Now, Kentarre, have you any parents or relatives who are your caretakers?" Kentarre said bluntly, "No."
"I see. And how old are you, Kentarre?"
"Fifteen."
"You live alone?"
Kentarre simply nodded.
"How long have you been in England?"
"A few months."
"I see. From which country did you come?"
"Japan."
"Ah." A pause. "Have you had any recent jobs?"
"I have. Several, in fact."
"And these were…?"
"Oh, nothing really special. I am not currently employed, if that's what you're getting at." Kentarre knew full well what his reaction would be if she told him what she'd got a job doing, so she casually met his curious stare with a calm expression.
The professor continued. "Well, since you are obviously able to take care of yourself, and you seem to have some source of revenue, I will tell you where you can go to exchange your money for wizard coins. These will then enable you to purchase your school supplies, of which I'm sure you received a list." After a few brief instructions, the headmaster finished and said she was free to go, and if she had any questions that he'd be here. Kentarre stood, gave a slight bow, and left the room.
She had not forgotten the way out, and soon found herself outside the front doors. Across the lawn could be seen a man of great proportions who seemed to be pruning a small bush outside a cabin that was just as large as he was. The pruning shears were nothing short of enormous, and the man holding them seemed to be in deep concentration, as though he was afraid of clipping the tiny bush right off of its stem. Kentarre decided to go and see what this was all about. Leaving the steps, she crossed the lawn and walked over to the man. As she approached, the man straightened and wiped a huge hand across his forehead. She reached him and stopped. "Hello," she said warily, not sure what his reaction would be. He twisted around to see who the speaker was, and saw Kentarre standing there in her jeans and flame t-shirt. "Who're you?" he asked gruffly. "I'm called Kentarre," she replied in resonant tones. "Oh. Hello," he said. "What're you doing here? Term doesn't start fer another two weeks."
"Actually, I'm still trying to figure that out. The headmaster sent someone to retrieve me from Bristol to see about my coming here. What's your name?" At her question, he seemed to remember himself. "Oh, excuse me. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds," he said, and extended his hand, in which Kentarre placed hers. His enormous hand completely dwarfed hers, and his fingers wrapped around it entirely. After a brief shake, Hagrid turned back to his pruning, but he still seemed to want to talk, as he grunted, "So, yeh met any o' the other teachers yet, Kentarre?"
"Yes. Professor McGonagall, who was sent to get me, and Professor Snape."
At this he paused. "Yeh met Professor Snape, did yeh?"
"Yes."
A nod. A nod that said that Hagrid knew something Kentarre didn't. A nod that confirmed just about everything.
Hagrid went on. "Yeh heard about Hogwarts before?"
"No."
"Well, I can tell yeh, it'll be rough, with yeh bein' a firs' year, an' all, but yeh'll patch through."
At the words 'firs' year', Kentarre started. "A what?"
"A firs' year. It means that it's the youngest class, the rookies."
Kentarre bristled. "Are all the rookies fifteen?"
"Fifteen?" Hagrid's brow furrowed. "Yeh're fifteen?"
Kentarre nodded. Hagrid said, "Odd. Yeh are new here, aren't yeh?" Another nod. "So… what year are yeh in?" A blatent shrug. "Hmm… oh well, better not think about it too much. Dumbledore's probably got it all figured out… always does… well, it was nice meetin' yeh, Kentarre."
She nodded and turned away, feeling that she'd found out something interesting, if not useful. And made a friend. *Ha,* thought she, *I don't have any friends. And I was perfectly content as long as it stayed that way. Everyone else just seems to get in the way, anyway.* She began to make her way out of the gates and back down the busy street from which she had come.
Kentarre soon found the center for money trade that Professor Dumbledore had indicated. She emptied her pockets and found that there was quite a sum, but she didn't trade all of it in; she didn't know if she would be going back or not, but it was always prudent to have some cash on hand. The clerk handed her a handful of coins, and as she looked closer, Kentarre could see that they were the most peculiar coins she'd ever seen. However, as much as she'd seen of this place, she'd learned never to expect anything short of the extraordinary, and thus one shall never be taken by surprise.
When she was once again outside the center, she began to walk, pulling out her supplies list and pocketing her coins. *Hmm… robes, a hat, a cauldron, a wand, books, potion ingredients and equipment, dragon hide gloves, an optional pet, and a bottle of ground harpy's feather? What are these people anyway?* she thought as she meandered down the street. *Well, first thing's first. I suppose I'd better get some robes.* It was then that her skills of observing really came in handy, because otherwise she'd have had no idea of how to get where. She found Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions in just a few minutes. Soon, she was walking outside with a bag of three robes, each exactly what the regulation required. *All right, next… the potion ingredients.* These proved slightly more difficult to purchase, as the store was in complete disarray, but in the end she managed to find all of them. Kentarre asked the store woman if there was any stock of ground harpy's feather, and the woman replied in a simpering voice, "I think we just got in a new stock of those, but they're not on the shelf yet. Let me go look for you." As Kentarre waited, the woman disappeared and soon returned carrying a small bottle about the height of Kentarre's middle finger that was full of a glittering, orange-colored powder. "This is the first of our new shipment," she trilled, "so it's practically fresh!" Kentarre thanked her, paid for her purchases, and hurried out of the store. She looked back at the store and shuddered. *I hope all the clerks aren't like that… okay, what's next? Let's see… I think books next.*
The bookstore wasn't hard to find at all; it was set on a pretty little corner of the square, a very convenient spot if you wanted business. However, there seemed to be little business at all for the little store, save a few young persons dragging exhausted parents in and out, in empty-handed, out carrying too much. It was in this direction that Kentarre veered, barely avoiding being crushed by a passing carriage. When she stepped inside the door, a very ordinary sight met her eye. The bookstore was neat as a pin, and everything seemed to have a place of its own. No one's voice rose above the level of a whisper; it almost reminded her of a shrine she had once visited.
A clerk padded up to her. "May I help you?" he asked in hushed tones. She showed him her list, and he said, "Ah, a Hogwarts student. Wait right here." He disappeared among the aisles for a few minutes, and then returned carrying a bundle of books, which he transferred to her arms. He turned and led her to the desk that was in one corner, and he totaled up her purchases. Kentarre thanked him and left the store, looking back over her shoulder at the door with a that-was-peculiar look on her face. She fished her list out and peered at it. *Hmm… equipment next.*
This store proved easy to find, because of all the oddments in its window. There was a spinning model of the galaxy, a golden rod that looked as though it might be a sort of telescope, a number of differently sized and shaped cauldrons, and an assortment of other trinkets. She pushed the door open and was met with the smell of new leather and metal polish. Once her purchases had been made, she swiftly breezed back out into the oncoming night.
Now there was only one thing left on her supplies list that she did not have: the optional pet. Kentarre had never owned a pet before because it would have been too much trouble to catch the kind of pet she wanted, for it was surely not sold in a normal pet store. *However, I suppose that since I have nothing else to do, and the fact remains that nothing here is normal, I will go and have a look at this pet store. Perhaps they will have what I am looking for.*
Eyelops' Owl Emporium was a tiny little shop that was squeezed in between the place for Quidditch supplies and the Apothecary. When she walked in, Kentarre found herself surrounded by cages upon cages of various animals in all shapes, colors, and sizes; literally. There were mice of every color of the rainbow, owls that varied in size from fist-size to those who had wingspans of nearly five feet. There was a counter set in the back between two enormous cages full of cats. An elderly witch stood behind it, and she looked sternly at Kentarre and asked, "What do you need?" Kentarre looked her square in the face and requested, "Do you carry hawks?"
The saleswoman said, "Well, we have eagle owls, if that's what you mean."
"No, no, I mean hawks. Preferrably a falcon."
"Hmmm. Well, let's see what we have. I might have something to interest you in the back. Follow me, please."
The woman led Kentarre to a storage room in the back corner of the store. It was full of caged and twittering birds of all kinds. Kentarre noticed that these birds were more uncommon. The saleswoman stopped in front of a mesh cage against the left wall. Inside was a single bird; a red-eyed falcon whose left foot was chained to a hook in the base of the mesh. It cawed a melancholy cry when the woman appeared, but then it was silenced when the bird noticed Kentarre. She and the falcon locked eyes for a moment, his crimson eyes just as fierce and wild as her own solid black ones. "He'll do," Kentarre told the woman after a moment. The woman asked uncertainly, "Are you sure? I've had to keep close tabs on this one. He's a real menace."
"Yes. I'm sure," Kentarre replied, still not taking her eyes off the falcon. The woman nodded. "All right," she said. "I'll have to ask you to go back to the main store while I put him in a suitable cage." Kentarre ripped her gaze from the bird, but not before a single word spoke out in her mind. *Nemesis.* She didn't understand it, but it spoke again. *Nemesis.*
She stood in the front of the store for a few minutes, and the word did not present itself again until the woman returned carrying the selected falcon in a rounded cage with a handle. *Nemesis.* Kentarre gazed again at the bird, and then it clicked. *This bird's name is Nemesis.* Kentarre paid a surprisingly low price for the falcon and left the store carrying him and all her other purchases. Now, she was headed back toward the castle; there was a question she wanted to pose to Dumbledore, and there was something she knew that he didn't.
While her eyes remained fixed on the paper on her knee, Kentarre's left hand lifted and pointed two fingers in the direction of the coffeemaker. She heard the machine switch on and immediately begin drip, drip, dripping into the awaiting mug. Getting up and brushing a few stray silvery bangs from her forehead, she stretched but did not allow herself to yawn, and trudged down the hall to her room, which, like the kitchen, was sparingly furnished. Her footsteps echoed down the low-ceilinged hall, while the naked light bulb swung above her by a few wires.
Arriving at her room, her eyes swiftly searched the area for anything that was out of place. She was, by nature, very suspicious, and had many experiences with burglars, intruders, thieves, and the like. The girl began to dress herself, and once done, slipped back into the kitchen, though she didn't stop there; she padded onward to the den and proceeded to gather all the things from this room that were hers. This sequence continued for every room in the house until she had collected a small bundle of things in her arms (excluding, of course, the coffeemaker, which was not hers, and the mug, likewise). These she placed in a suitcase that exactly fitted all of these things and would not fit any more.
After draining the coffee in a few gulps, she made her way to the phone, the only thing left in the den. Kentarre picked up the receiver, dialed a number, and held a brief conversation with the other end of the line. After the conversation was cancelled and the receiver replaced, Kentarre made one more quick check around the house and left, closing the front door with a finality that echoed throughout the silent and empty house.
Kentarre proceeded to catch a dismal train ride to London, on which she said nothing and ate nothing, preferring to sit quietly in her car and shake her head at anyone who came in and offered her something. At one point in the trip, a boy about her age or perhaps younger poked his head in and asked if he could sit in the car with her, stating that all the other ones were full. She gave him a skeptical look for a moment, in which he stood in silent anticipation, then allowed him to enter and sit. He made a few brave stabs at conversation, in which she either shook her head or gave him querical looks. After about thirty minutes he declared that he was going to go, erm, relieve himself, but he'd be back. She excused him with another annoyed stare, and he quickly left. Kentarre knew he wouldn't be back, so she settled down once more and stared out the window.
The train arrived in London around two, and disembarking proved to be more difficult than it looked. A large, bustling crowd lingered around the station, most of its entities simply milling around and watching the coming and going of trains. Kentarre hated time-wasters, and she thumbed her nose at a particularly large group of obviously foreign speculators.
Kentarre made her way through the filthy streets of London, not really paying attention to where she was going, but going all the same. The letters were in her pocket, and their directions were clear. She had never been to London before, but, as was the same with all cities, she strode around like she had lived there her entire life, knowing exactly which direction to go when. A tiny voice in her head that she had never heard before in her life and knew not whence it came spoke without warning. *Look to your right,* it said, *and you will know from there whence to go.* She paused in the middle of the walkway, ignoring those people behind her who ploughed into her and then past her. Her head turned to her right; an extraordinarily ordinary sight met her eye. It was a run-down pub, whose peeling sign above said "The Leaky Cauldron". She stepped inside and was met with another ordinary sight. Customers sat at the rickety tables and chairs, and a few stood near the walls, deep in conversation. Kentarre proceeded into the little building, moving aside to be out of the light and the doorway. She happened to catch snitches of talk as she stood there, and these greatly interested her. A group of elderly people stood not two feet from her, and their conversation rose above the rest. One of the men was saying, "How did you get here so fast, Vivian? The passage is all the way across the bar from here, and we see everyone that comes in or out of Diagon Alley. I distinctly remember never seeing you come through."
The woman beside him snorted, "Because you're blind as a bat, that's why, Wallace! You couldn't tell me from the Minister of Magic!" At the word "magic", Kentarre's ears perked. Now she understood why the little voice had spoken; this was the place she needed to go to get all of the school supplies that were on the list of oddments.
She suddenly noticed a small trickle of people come in from the door in the rear of the bar. Among them was an elderly woman who appeared to be in a great rush, darting here and there with surprising speed, looking at faces and craning her neck, apparently searching for something or someone. As Kentarre watched her, the woman suddenly caught her eye and began to hurriedly make her way toward Kentarre's end of the bar. Assuming she was heading for the door, Kentarre backed even further into the shadows, attempting to get out of her way. However, the woman did not continue on past her, but stopped directly in front of her.
The woman wore square spectacles and a very businesslike expression. She addressed Kentarre, saying, "Are you Kentarre Hisakata?" Arcing one eyebrow, Kentarre responded with a nod. "I am Professor McGonagall from Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore sent me to bring you to the school to settle certain matters of your attendance. Come with me."
Without waiting to see if Kentarre would follow, she pivoted and just as swiftly made her way back across the bar. Kentarre, amused but quite curious, followed suit just as swiftly, not to be outdone by an old woman whom she had never met before. The lady's grey and rather dull cloak swished through the swirling crowd, and Kentarre tagged close behind.
The woman led her through the back door and out of the building, finally coming upon a brick wall that had several trashcans lined up against it. Rummaging in her dress pocket, the old woman drew out a long, slender sprig of a dark brown wood. With this, she tapped a brick in the wall three times, causing a chain reaction; the bricks melted away to reveal a bustling, busy world behind them. The remaining bricks formed an arch that soared above their heads, and it was through this that the woman, wasting no time, marched. "Come along," she said brusquely, and Kentarre, having no alternative at the moment, obeyed. The new person, it seemed, was very good at maneuvering through the crowds; she seemed to flow by without effort. This was all right with Kentarre; she wasn't often curious, so the sightseeing didn't really matter much. That is not to say that she didn't notice anything; rather, she noticed quite a bit with her peripheral vision, but if she saw anything out of place, it didn't affect her serene expression.
Eventually, they came to a fork in the road, at which the woman, Professor McGonagall, turned to the left, just avoiding being hit by a rushing crowd of young boys who were headed for a shop whose sign said, "Quality Quidditch Supplies" in gold letters. Even so, Kentarre managed to maneuver around them in the nick of time. The left fork led them down a straight path, which seemed to scale a small hill. Once at the top, Professor McGonagall paused by a lamppost that was near the side of the street. When Kentarre came up, she pointed down the street. Peering through the evening mist, Kentarre saw, looming at her from a rather large distance, a castle. It was, though it was hard to tell from this distance, enormous, sitting there, bathed in orange light from the setting sun. "That," said Professor McGonagall, "is Hogwarts." Silence followed this remark, silence punctured only by the noise of the street around them. Then the professor said, "Come along. We're almost there." With that, she started off again with a new sort of vigor in her step, and Kentarre was left no choice but to follow.
When they arrived at the castle gate, which was flanked by two statues of winged boars. The castle, growing larger and larger by the minute, loomed at her as they approached. Professor McGonagall was saying something about carriages that were out of order, but Kentarre was only half-listening. She was taking in her surroundings, drinking in the sights and seeing nothing very heartening. The lake, glassy and smooth, glimmered darkly at her, while the forest behind it jeered from afar. The grass around the castle was marked all around by shadows, including her own. Ascending the cold stone steps, Kentarre noticed the front doors for the first time. They were the height of three men, and at least seven people could walk abreast through it. The professor banged the brass knocker once, and only minutes later, a figure wearing dark robes opened it. It was a man, pale-faced and dark-haired, and he had a most disdainful look on his face. However, when he saw who was at the door, he pulled it wide and said, "Professor McGonagall," in a stern and unfriendly manner. Professor McGonagall replied, "Professor Snape," in a crisp, businesslike tone, which was completely void of all emotion. Kentarre's own reaction was not quite unlike Professor McGonagall's. She could see that this teacher would have to do with some consideration, along with some manipulation, for he clearly did not approve of her. Professor McGonagall started off briskly down a wide corridor to the left, and Kentarre, not wanting to be humiliatingly lost, followed once more.
She found herself being led down several brightly lit halls, each one lined with differently colored carpets and tapestries. Finally, the elderly professor stopped and faced a carved wooden gargoyle, whose mouth was open, revealing jagged, uneven teeth. "Butter quills," muttered she. The gargoyle spontaneously sprang aside, revealing a small door, through which the professor strode, towing a bewildered but silent and sober-faced Kentarre.
The door led to a spiral staircase, which was, even stranger still, moving upwards continuously. This the professor stepped on, and it carried her upward with it. Kentarre followed suit. The staircase, it turned out, ended at a short passageway, at the end of which was a door much like the one that was concealed by the gargoyle, only this one was partly open. Professor McGonagall tapped gently on it, and a voice from inside, a voice that hinted of age in body but not in spirit, replied, "Enter." Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and ushered Kentarre inside, closing the door after doing so. The room, Kentarre observed, was round and furnished with many oddments and questionable items. Many of these were indescribable, but the walls were lined with pictures of elderly women and men, all moving. To one side of the room was a desk, and at it sat a man whose long, white hair and beard flowed out from underneath a pointed hat. He had a wrinkled, friendly smile, and his lightning blue eyes sparkled under bushy, white eyebrows.
"Professor Dumbledore," said Kentarre's accompanist sharply, "this is Kentarre Hisakata. Kentarre, this is Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts." The man gave Kentarre a calculating look, which Kentarre countered with one of her own. "Hello," said he. "I understand that certain arrangements must be made on the terms of your attendance at this school. Minerva, thank you for bringing her, I will not be needing any more services." Professor McGonagall promptly left the room. "Now, Kentarre, have you any parents or relatives who are your caretakers?" Kentarre said bluntly, "No."
"I see. And how old are you, Kentarre?"
"Fifteen."
"You live alone?"
Kentarre simply nodded.
"How long have you been in England?"
"A few months."
"I see. From which country did you come?"
"Japan."
"Ah." A pause. "Have you had any recent jobs?"
"I have. Several, in fact."
"And these were…?"
"Oh, nothing really special. I am not currently employed, if that's what you're getting at." Kentarre knew full well what his reaction would be if she told him what she'd got a job doing, so she casually met his curious stare with a calm expression.
The professor continued. "Well, since you are obviously able to take care of yourself, and you seem to have some source of revenue, I will tell you where you can go to exchange your money for wizard coins. These will then enable you to purchase your school supplies, of which I'm sure you received a list." After a few brief instructions, the headmaster finished and said she was free to go, and if she had any questions that he'd be here. Kentarre stood, gave a slight bow, and left the room.
She had not forgotten the way out, and soon found herself outside the front doors. Across the lawn could be seen a man of great proportions who seemed to be pruning a small bush outside a cabin that was just as large as he was. The pruning shears were nothing short of enormous, and the man holding them seemed to be in deep concentration, as though he was afraid of clipping the tiny bush right off of its stem. Kentarre decided to go and see what this was all about. Leaving the steps, she crossed the lawn and walked over to the man. As she approached, the man straightened and wiped a huge hand across his forehead. She reached him and stopped. "Hello," she said warily, not sure what his reaction would be. He twisted around to see who the speaker was, and saw Kentarre standing there in her jeans and flame t-shirt. "Who're you?" he asked gruffly. "I'm called Kentarre," she replied in resonant tones. "Oh. Hello," he said. "What're you doing here? Term doesn't start fer another two weeks."
"Actually, I'm still trying to figure that out. The headmaster sent someone to retrieve me from Bristol to see about my coming here. What's your name?" At her question, he seemed to remember himself. "Oh, excuse me. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds," he said, and extended his hand, in which Kentarre placed hers. His enormous hand completely dwarfed hers, and his fingers wrapped around it entirely. After a brief shake, Hagrid turned back to his pruning, but he still seemed to want to talk, as he grunted, "So, yeh met any o' the other teachers yet, Kentarre?"
"Yes. Professor McGonagall, who was sent to get me, and Professor Snape."
At this he paused. "Yeh met Professor Snape, did yeh?"
"Yes."
A nod. A nod that said that Hagrid knew something Kentarre didn't. A nod that confirmed just about everything.
Hagrid went on. "Yeh heard about Hogwarts before?"
"No."
"Well, I can tell yeh, it'll be rough, with yeh bein' a firs' year, an' all, but yeh'll patch through."
At the words 'firs' year', Kentarre started. "A what?"
"A firs' year. It means that it's the youngest class, the rookies."
Kentarre bristled. "Are all the rookies fifteen?"
"Fifteen?" Hagrid's brow furrowed. "Yeh're fifteen?"
Kentarre nodded. Hagrid said, "Odd. Yeh are new here, aren't yeh?" Another nod. "So… what year are yeh in?" A blatent shrug. "Hmm… oh well, better not think about it too much. Dumbledore's probably got it all figured out… always does… well, it was nice meetin' yeh, Kentarre."
She nodded and turned away, feeling that she'd found out something interesting, if not useful. And made a friend. *Ha,* thought she, *I don't have any friends. And I was perfectly content as long as it stayed that way. Everyone else just seems to get in the way, anyway.* She began to make her way out of the gates and back down the busy street from which she had come.
Kentarre soon found the center for money trade that Professor Dumbledore had indicated. She emptied her pockets and found that there was quite a sum, but she didn't trade all of it in; she didn't know if she would be going back or not, but it was always prudent to have some cash on hand. The clerk handed her a handful of coins, and as she looked closer, Kentarre could see that they were the most peculiar coins she'd ever seen. However, as much as she'd seen of this place, she'd learned never to expect anything short of the extraordinary, and thus one shall never be taken by surprise.
When she was once again outside the center, she began to walk, pulling out her supplies list and pocketing her coins. *Hmm… robes, a hat, a cauldron, a wand, books, potion ingredients and equipment, dragon hide gloves, an optional pet, and a bottle of ground harpy's feather? What are these people anyway?* she thought as she meandered down the street. *Well, first thing's first. I suppose I'd better get some robes.* It was then that her skills of observing really came in handy, because otherwise she'd have had no idea of how to get where. She found Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions in just a few minutes. Soon, she was walking outside with a bag of three robes, each exactly what the regulation required. *All right, next… the potion ingredients.* These proved slightly more difficult to purchase, as the store was in complete disarray, but in the end she managed to find all of them. Kentarre asked the store woman if there was any stock of ground harpy's feather, and the woman replied in a simpering voice, "I think we just got in a new stock of those, but they're not on the shelf yet. Let me go look for you." As Kentarre waited, the woman disappeared and soon returned carrying a small bottle about the height of Kentarre's middle finger that was full of a glittering, orange-colored powder. "This is the first of our new shipment," she trilled, "so it's practically fresh!" Kentarre thanked her, paid for her purchases, and hurried out of the store. She looked back at the store and shuddered. *I hope all the clerks aren't like that… okay, what's next? Let's see… I think books next.*
The bookstore wasn't hard to find at all; it was set on a pretty little corner of the square, a very convenient spot if you wanted business. However, there seemed to be little business at all for the little store, save a few young persons dragging exhausted parents in and out, in empty-handed, out carrying too much. It was in this direction that Kentarre veered, barely avoiding being crushed by a passing carriage. When she stepped inside the door, a very ordinary sight met her eye. The bookstore was neat as a pin, and everything seemed to have a place of its own. No one's voice rose above the level of a whisper; it almost reminded her of a shrine she had once visited.
A clerk padded up to her. "May I help you?" he asked in hushed tones. She showed him her list, and he said, "Ah, a Hogwarts student. Wait right here." He disappeared among the aisles for a few minutes, and then returned carrying a bundle of books, which he transferred to her arms. He turned and led her to the desk that was in one corner, and he totaled up her purchases. Kentarre thanked him and left the store, looking back over her shoulder at the door with a that-was-peculiar look on her face. She fished her list out and peered at it. *Hmm… equipment next.*
This store proved easy to find, because of all the oddments in its window. There was a spinning model of the galaxy, a golden rod that looked as though it might be a sort of telescope, a number of differently sized and shaped cauldrons, and an assortment of other trinkets. She pushed the door open and was met with the smell of new leather and metal polish. Once her purchases had been made, she swiftly breezed back out into the oncoming night.
Now there was only one thing left on her supplies list that she did not have: the optional pet. Kentarre had never owned a pet before because it would have been too much trouble to catch the kind of pet she wanted, for it was surely not sold in a normal pet store. *However, I suppose that since I have nothing else to do, and the fact remains that nothing here is normal, I will go and have a look at this pet store. Perhaps they will have what I am looking for.*
Eyelops' Owl Emporium was a tiny little shop that was squeezed in between the place for Quidditch supplies and the Apothecary. When she walked in, Kentarre found herself surrounded by cages upon cages of various animals in all shapes, colors, and sizes; literally. There were mice of every color of the rainbow, owls that varied in size from fist-size to those who had wingspans of nearly five feet. There was a counter set in the back between two enormous cages full of cats. An elderly witch stood behind it, and she looked sternly at Kentarre and asked, "What do you need?" Kentarre looked her square in the face and requested, "Do you carry hawks?"
The saleswoman said, "Well, we have eagle owls, if that's what you mean."
"No, no, I mean hawks. Preferrably a falcon."
"Hmmm. Well, let's see what we have. I might have something to interest you in the back. Follow me, please."
The woman led Kentarre to a storage room in the back corner of the store. It was full of caged and twittering birds of all kinds. Kentarre noticed that these birds were more uncommon. The saleswoman stopped in front of a mesh cage against the left wall. Inside was a single bird; a red-eyed falcon whose left foot was chained to a hook in the base of the mesh. It cawed a melancholy cry when the woman appeared, but then it was silenced when the bird noticed Kentarre. She and the falcon locked eyes for a moment, his crimson eyes just as fierce and wild as her own solid black ones. "He'll do," Kentarre told the woman after a moment. The woman asked uncertainly, "Are you sure? I've had to keep close tabs on this one. He's a real menace."
"Yes. I'm sure," Kentarre replied, still not taking her eyes off the falcon. The woman nodded. "All right," she said. "I'll have to ask you to go back to the main store while I put him in a suitable cage." Kentarre ripped her gaze from the bird, but not before a single word spoke out in her mind. *Nemesis.* She didn't understand it, but it spoke again. *Nemesis.*
She stood in the front of the store for a few minutes, and the word did not present itself again until the woman returned carrying the selected falcon in a rounded cage with a handle. *Nemesis.* Kentarre gazed again at the bird, and then it clicked. *This bird's name is Nemesis.* Kentarre paid a surprisingly low price for the falcon and left the store carrying him and all her other purchases. Now, she was headed back toward the castle; there was a question she wanted to pose to Dumbledore, and there was something she knew that he didn't.