Summary: "There are some things you can't hesitate about, and this is one of them." These are the last words Maggie Callaghan ever hears Fred Weasley speak, after nine years of friendship, shenanigans, and love. As she retraces her memories of Hogwarts, the Burrow, and the Ministry, she realizes: "I loved him and I never told him - there are some things you can't hesitate about and I did."
A/N: Hello hello! Welcome to Spectrum! Just posting this for a laugh - yes, it's an OC, oh yikes! Warning signs right there! I wrote this while not taking myself seriously...and you should too! Always wanted to write a story about the Weasley twins' generation/a house other than Gryffindor! Here's my stab at it :) Like it? Hate it? Let me know! I'm pretty friendly, haha
July 10th, 1989
"Mum!" scrambling feet on the hardwood floors, the girl came crashing through the kitchen, nearly upsetting her younger brothers (Simon, 6 and Patrick, 8) from their perch at the kitchen table as she slid on the linoleum and came to a stop in front of her mother, who was folding the Daily Prophet neatly on the crease as she watched over the dishes (being done with an enchanted dish brush). Stout, with a thinning mess of blonde hair, the woman looked up from an article about the Ministry's stance on Diricawl poaching.
"No running, Margaret, what did I say?" she told her eldest child irritably, until her gaze fell upon the piece of parchment clutched in the girl's left hand.
"Mummy, there was an owl outside!" Maggie chirruped breathlessly, impatiently wiping away the dark wisps of hair that always stuck annoyingly to her eyelashes. "He had a letter, it's for me! It's from Hogwarts!"
Her mother sucked in a breath, and then said briskly, "Well, let's see it then.":
"Dear Miss Callaghan,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."
When her mother finally looked up, Maggie was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Well, well, well?" she demanded.
"Lucas!" her mother called upstairs to her husband, a smile breaking out over her face. "She's got her letter!"
August 12th, 1989
"I remember your mother," Garrick Ollivander said thoughtfully from a shelf high above Maggie's head. Maggie craned her head up to peer into the gloom, at the rows upon rows of wands in boxes, unopened, waiting for their owner. It was a staggering thought, she realized, as Ollivander hummed an off tune, shuffling around on the shelves.
"Lovely girl - wand was willow, I recall, 12 and three-quarter inches, with unicorn hair, I believe? And your father...he was tricky, took a long time to match him a wand...but eventually we settled on Hawthorn, 9 inches, with griffin feather. Very nice wand, nice for Transfiguration...now!"
Ollivander climbed back into the light with a stack of wand boxes. "My dear, my dear, what should we try out first...perhaps this one, 8 and a quarter inches, dragon heartstring...yes, yes, just like that, give it a flick."
Nothing happened - Maggie felt embarrassed and wondered if she should remind Ollivander that she really didn't know any spells, but Ollivander merely packed the wand up again and picked up the next box.
"How about this, then...a little longer, 10 and a half inches, yew with dragon heartstring..."
That one was no good - neither was the third, or fourth, or fifth one that Maggie tried.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, but Ollivander held up his hand, purposefully searching through the boxes he had brought down with him.
"I was a little off..." he murmured, "Just like your father, eh, my girl? Then let's try this one."
So Maggie took the wand offered to her, and her hand felt warm. Experimentally, she waved it, and the boxes piled haphazardly on the table arranged themselves into a neat stack.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. Ollivander looked pleased.
"Just takes a little time, is all!" he assured her, moving forward to re-box the wand. "That's poplar, that is, 10 inches, with griffin feather...a core like your father's.
"Griffin's a tricky core to use, you know," he continued as they moved to the front of the shop, where Maggie's mother was waiting. "Makes for a very purposeful wand, but I daresay you can handle it..."
"Didn't I tell you Mr. Ollivander was nice?" her mother asked her as they left the wand shop, Maggie's new wand securely tucked under her arm.
"Yeah..."
September 1st, 1989
"Now, be smart." said Diana Callaghan, straightening her eldest daughter's jumper.
"Stay away from Filch, if you can." added Lucas Callaghan, ruffling up her hair. "He's a nasty one."
"Daad!" Eleven-year-old Margaret Callaghan, called "Maggie" by just about everyone except her parents on bad days, immediately reached up to flatten the hair that has been mussed. "I gotta go!"
Maggie was rather tall for her age, most of that height being made up of gangly colt legs, which left trousers always a little too short and in need of a hem, and robes always a little ill-fitting. Her hair, a light brown, was straw straight and cut straight to her shoulders, a line of bangs falling over big eyes, long nose, thin lips and round cheeks. She moved away from her family, face scrunched up in impatience as she batted away Patrick (her younger brother) and Simon (the youngest brother) - they grabbed at her jumper, begging her to write to them about Hogwarts as soon as she got there.
Lucas leaned down to kiss her gently on the forehead.
"Remember to feed Spots." Diana said briskly, handing her daughter both her trunk and the little cage that housed Spots the toad, a pre-Hogwarts gift from her uncle Francis.
"And for heaven's sake, Margaret, take your fingers out of your mouth!" she swatted at her daughter's hand, which had somehow, through all her luggage, found its way to her lips so she could bite her nails - a nervous habit from childhood Maggie had yet to break.
"Muuum." Maggie inched down Platform 9 3/4. "I'm going! I'll see you at Christmas!"
"I love you, sweet girl." Diana told her daughter, getting dangerously teary-eyed. "Eat well. Write us once in a while, promise?"
"I promise!" Maggie was half onto the train by this point, juggling trunk and toad. "Bye Daddy!" she called. Lucas lifted his hand.
"Bye Mags."
"Bye Maggie!" her brothers chorused.
Maggie waved at her family one last time before making her way down the corridor, searching for a compartment. Suddenly seeing so many faces - students her age, looking nervous/sick/a combination of the two, and older students greeting friends, laughing, having quick conversations - made the knot in her stomach grow larger. As she edged past groups of students, some turned to look at her, briefly, and she kept her head turned away, searching for an empty compartment.
All the compartments had at least one other person in them and Maggie, summoning up the courage, knocked softly on the window of one before sliding open the door and asking, "Sorry...do you mind if I sit here?"
The two girls in the compartment looked up from their conversation.
"Sure." said one. With a muttered thanks, Maggie hefted her things overhead and sat down.
The girls looked around her age - the one who had spoken before was a plump, round-faced thing, with caramel-blonde hair, a smattering of freckles, and a wide, genuine smile. The other was taller, gangly, with a thick shock of dark, wavy hair and perpetually tired-looking eyes.
"Are you a first year, too?" the dark-haired girl spoke, startling Maggie.
"Yes - er, I'm Maggie Callaghan."
"Kendra Baines." replied dark-haired girl.
"Beth Fairfax." said freckles. Maggie relaxed a little.
"Hi. Where're you from?"
"We're from Liverpool." Kendra seemed to be speaking for the both of them - Beth only nodded and smiled.
"Oh, so you know each other already?" at their nods, Maggie smiled. "That's neat! Wish I had come with a friend - I think I'd be less nervous."
"Don't be nervous!" Beth chirped. "Now you know us!"
"Yeah." Maggie chanced a smile, and the compartment settled into a comfortable silence.
As the train made its way into Scotland, Maggie felt her nervousness slowly dissipate from her body. Kendra and Beth were friendly and enthusiastic - Beth loved Quidditch, and seemed shocked that Maggie wasn't much of a fan ("My dad used to take me to watch the Montrose Magpies play! - 've been a Magpie fan since I could walk!"); Kendra, on the other hand, shared Maggie's love for collecting Chocolate Frog cards ("What," Beth exclaimed in horror, "You want to collect dead people's portraits instead of watching Quidditch? Bonkers, you two!")
"When we get to school, I wanna try out for the Quidditch team," Beth was telling them as the trolley rolled by - they paused their conversation to buy an assortment of Chocolate Frogs and Cauldron Cakes. "When my da was at Hogwarts, he was the Keeper for his team!"
"Which house?" Maggie wanted to know, watching some clouds cast a shadow over the fields outside the window of the compartment.
"Gryffindor. My mum was a Ravenclaw. I hope I'm in Gryffindor though, honestly. I think it's the best house. Well, according to my dad, anyways."
"Both my parents were in Gryffindor!" Maggie interjected happily. "So that means I'll be in Gryffindor for sure!"
"Not really." Kendra spoke up, from where she'd been fiddling with her book. "My mum's parents were both in Slytherin and she was a Ravenclaw."
"What?" Maggie sat straight up, a new sort of panic clawing in her stomach. "But I want to be in Gryffindor! What if I'm not? What if I'm..." she gulped nervously. "...a Slytherin?"
Kendra furrowed her brow. "Who says there's something wrong with being a Slytherin?" she asked sharply, and Maggie looked sheepish.
"Sorry." she apologized. "Nothin' against Slytherins, just..." she sighed. "My parents both sort of..want me to be in Gryffindor. You know? They were really excited when I got my letter, and I'm scared they might be mad if I don't get in."
"How do you get in to a house, anyways?" Beth piped up. "My dad used to tell me that you had to complete a task, but I think he was joking."
"My sister told me you have to do something in front of the whole school, and if you mess up, you get sent home." Kendra said with a somber face.
"Oh, jeez." Maggie winced. Her parents had been vague on the whole subject, with her mother saying, "Don't worry, Maggie. You'll find out when you get there."
"I'm sure it'll be fine!" Beth told her. "No one's gotten kicked out of Hogwarts ever...I think...'less you kill someone or something like that..."
Maggie excused herself to use the loo.
On the way back to the compartment she bumped into a boy her own age, looking stocky in a green hand-knit jumper, and with a shock of startling red hair.
"Sorry!" she apologized, to which the boy grinned and replied, "All me, sorry."
In his hands she could see a rucksack, and as she stared at it, it wriggled.
"Whoa!" she yelped. "What is that?"
The boy looked anxious. "Well, gotta go!" he said, and hurriedly entered the nearest compartment. Peering in, Maggie saw him exchange words with - what must be his twin because they were identical - before the first boy turned round and saw her watching. Flushing, she averted her eyes and continued on to her own compartment.
"Yer back! Wanna play Exploding Snap?" Beth asked. "Kendra's no good at it."
With one last glance out into the corridor, Maggie shrugged and sat down, and ended up singing her fingers in the first five minutes (Beth was much better at this than her) - nevertheless, it helped push the House situation out of her mind.
"Your dad and I were both in Gryffindor," her mother would tell her and her brothers, proudly, usually when they wouldn't go to sleep and her father had exhausted all the Beedle the Bard stories for the night. "It's how we met, actually. He nearly blew up the dungeons with one of his potions in fifth year, so I helped him fix it."
Maggie knew, when her mother's eyes grew faraway, that she was remembering. "You'll love it when you're there," she would tell them. "You've never felt so safe and so wonderful than you do at Hogwarts. I met all my best friends in Gryffindor - you get to know each other very well, you know. You do everything together." With a soft look at her husband she would add, "And we still do everything together, twenty-five years later."
Neither of her parents had ever said it, explicitly, but Maggie knew they sort of expected her and her brothers to get into Gryffindor. In the few years leading up to her eleventh birthday, Maggie had never entertained any other possibility other than her walking into that school and becoming a Gryffindor. But now...hearing Kendra's story...she wasn't so sure.
After their fifth game of Exploding Snap, and after Kendra had inhaled the last of her Cauldron Cakes ("She's a vacuum, this one." Beth said teasingly, and was rewarded with a glare from her friend. "Eats everything in sight."), they had hurried to change into their robes. Shrugging into the dark fabric (she had told Mum it was a little too short - if she let her arms hang by her side, the sleeves didn't even hit her wrists!), Maggie tried to ignore the lump in her throat that had reappeared, and as the train ground to a halt she fisted her sleeves and attempted to pull them down over her hands, resisting the urge to bite her nails.
She was startled when Beth handed her Spots' cage.
"Sorry, he almost fell over." she apologized, wriggling a finger through the bars at the very bored looking toad.
"Thanks!" Maggie said breathlessly, taking the cage in both arms. "Say, where're your animals?" she asked the two.
Beth gestured to the owl cage in the corner of the compartment - the bird inside was a sort of muddy brown, and had its head tucked under its wing at the moment. "That's Beatrice. She was my mum's!"
When Maggie looked questioningly at Kendra, the dark-haired girl wrinkled her nose. "I don't like animals." she said with a note of finality.
Maggie stared.
"...Not at all?"
Outside it was dark, and students were pouring out of every car. Over the noise and commotion Maggie heard a call for, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
"Let's go!" Beth declared, and she and Kendra began elbowing their way through the throng of students. Maggie tried to follow, but dropped the cage with a clatter, earning her a disapproving croak.
"Sorry!" she whined, stooping - the fall had knocked the little wire door open and it wouldn't latch back onto the cage. A quick grope around the inside of the cage told her that Spots had disappeared
"Oh no." she muttered, squinting at the busy platform in the dark, imagining all the first years leaving without her, and having to show up at Hogwarts alone, stared at, on her first day!
"Oi, need a hand?" asked a voice to her left. Turning, she spotted the boy from earlier on the train - he was wearing his robes but the sleeves were rolled up, leaving his green jumper exposed.
"I dropped my toad." she explained miserably. "And now I'm going to be left behind an' - an' probably not sorted..."
"This him?" another voice behind her had her spinning around to see the boy's twin, Spots clutched carefully in between his palms.
"Spots!" she exclaimed. "Oh, thank you - er - "
"George," said the twin holding her toad. "George Weasley." An annoyed sound from his brother made her turn.
"He's not George, I'm George." said the boy with the green jumper. "That's Fred."
Fred grinned at her.
Maggie stared at him. "...Wh-are you sure?" she asked.
"Most of the time." Fred - Fred? Maybe? - replied, handing her Spots. "What's your name?"
"Pretty sure it's Maggie." she shot back. "Maggie Callaghan. Thanks for finding my toad, again."
"No problem. You a first year, then?"
"Yeah..." Maggie put Spots back in his cage, forcing the door closed.. "You?"
"Yup." the twins chorused. "C'mon, Hagrid's about to leave." George added, starting off.
Maggie was about to ask who Hagrid was - but she didn't need to, once she saw the enormous, hairy man looming over even the tallest of students. The man - Hagrid - looked relieved when he saw them hurrying up.
"Always the Weasleys!" he groaned good-naturedly, with one look at the twins and their red hair. "Hurry up, hurry up, I've gotta take yer to the castle."
"Does he know you?" Maggie asked as they pressed closer to the group of nervous, chattering first years - she thought she glanced Kendra's raven hair up in front but there was no way to get to her. Hagrid's lantern swung in the darkness, forging a path.
"Nah, but probably knows our brothers." Fred said.
"We've got three brothers who've gone to Hogwarts." George added proudly. "Bill just graduated last year."
"Wow! And you're the youngest ones, then?" Maggie guessed. Though she had two brothers, she couldn't imagine four siblings - especially if one of them was her twin!
"Got a little brother - he'll be along in two years - and a little sister." Fred filled her in.
"What!" Maggie's eyes widened, adding jokingly, "Your poor sister...with so many brothers!"
"Oh, trust me...she can handle herself." Fred assured her with a little shudder.
"What 'bout you?" George asked as they, per Hagrid's instructions, clambered into the boats that would take them to the castle.
"Two little brothers." Maggie answered, "So I'm the first to go! Sort of nerve-wracking, I think! What houses are your brothers in?"
"Our whole family's been in Gryffindor, so far." Fred replied. "So we think we've got a pretty good chance of getting in."
Maggie was silent, pondering. "What if you two get into different houses?" she wanted to know. Fred and George exchanged puzzled looks.
"Why would we?" asked Fred.
"They'd be loony to split us up!" added George.
"We're a pair!" they chorused. Maggie couldn't help a giggle from escaping her.
"You two are funny." she told them, gaze drifting out across the still, silent lake. In front of them, Hogwarts School loomed up out of the darkness, windows illuminated, ready to welcome its students. When Maggie turned back she saw the same awe that she felt reflected across the twins' faces - upturned towards the impressive turrets, freckles pale in the moonlight. Maggie smiled. Hogwarts could inspire even the brashest of boys to find silence, she guessed.
She and the Weasley twins didn't end up doing much talking after that - from the boat ride across the lake, to meeting the stern looking Professor McGonagall, to being led, hushed, into the Great Hall, with its fathomless ceiling and long tables, everything left her speechless. As the first years were led up near the front, Maggie became aware of everyone watching them, even the teachers sitting up at the head table, and the kindly old grandfather figure at the very centre.
"That's Dumbledore." George whispered to her. "Our dad says, he's the most powerful wizard in the world!"
"Yeah, I've heard about him..." Maggie said absently, remembering her father's words: You mind Professor Dumbledore, now, Mags! Forget what people say about his age - he's one of the greatest wizards we've got, and for you to be taught in his school is a great honour! Never forget that!
This was it. By the time this evening was over Maggie was going to be sorted - chancing a glance at the Weasley twins by her side, she decided to buck up and ask them what they knew...after all, they had three brothers at Hogwarts, right? If THEY didn't know, who did?
"So, d'either of you know how we get put in a House?" she asked them. The twins looked at each other and shrugged.
"Bill won't tell us." Fred (on the left, on the left, she chanted to herself, the one with the bit of a cowlick) told her.
"Percy said it's something we 'have to find out on our own'." George mimicked in a snooty voice.
"But Charlie says you have to fight a dragon!" Fred added suddenly, with a thrilled smile.
"Jus' a small one." George assured her, because her eyes went wide.
"Are - are you serious?" she asked. She didn't know anything about dragons! Mum never told her it would be like this!
"You calling our brother a liar?" the twins chorused.
"No!" she nearly shouted, mortified. "I just don't think I'll be very good at fighting dragons."
"We'll help." Fred piped up.
"Thanks." she said, smiling shakily at them - she'd never had someone offer to help her fight a dragon before!
They were startled from their conversation when a floppy hat left sitting on a stool up front suddenly straightened up, and started singing.
"Blimey, no one told us about that!" George yelped.
"To Hogwarts fair you've come today,
Dear first years of September,
And I've been chosen to show you,
A school year to remember!
Four houses you will find sit here
And they will bring their best,
We'll see today what you will choose
We'll put you to the test.
Perhaps Gryffindor? you may ask
Where bravery wins the war
They'll show you that they're up to snuff
And earn their lion's roar
Or maybe Ravenclaw is best
To find your heart's true home
Intelligence they prize by far,
Solutions found in tomes.
Hufflepuff is the one for you,
If you value your hard work
And patience always pulls you through,
For their toils they never shirk.
But what of Slytherin, the house
Where ambition lights the way?
Here you'll find a determined lot
Who will make it worth your stay.
So come up first years, don't be shy,
Come let me ply your mind
I'll take a look and just like that,
Your true house will I find!"
"Brilliant!" Fred roared over the applause, slapping his hands together. "A talking hat that tells you where to go, wait 'til we tell Ron!"
"Or we could tell him he has to battle a troll!" George suggested, and the two smiled at each other in a way that made Maggie very uneasy for Ron.
"When I call your name," McGonagall was telling them, "You will come up to the front and have the Hat placed on your head. I will start at the top of the list...Ackheart, Morgan!"
The first of them, a very pale boy with hunched shoulders, shuffled up and sat down on the stool. He gently placed the Hat down on his head, and it drooped down over his ears. From here, Maggie could see the boy's mouth part in surprise, hands fisted in his robes, before the Sorting Hat called, in a great booming voice, "SLYTHERIN!"
With applause from the green and silver-decked table, McGonagall picked up the Hat and ushered Morgan down from the front and over to his new house.
Was that it? Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. No dragons, no tests, no pain - just a hat who told you where to go. What was she so worried about?
"Baines, Kendra!" sent dark-haired Kendra up to sit on the stool. After a bit of deliberation, the hat called out, "RAVENCLAW!" and Kendra tripped off to join the blue and bronze table.
Two more names were called - "Banner, Quentin!" also heading off to Ravenclaw and "Bingham, Ramona!" becoming the first Hufflepuff of the evening - before Maggie heard, "Callaghan, Margaret!"
"Margaret?" Fred mouthed at her with glee.
"Good luck!" George flashed her a thumbs up. Maggie smiled weakly before stumbling up to McGonagall, who ushered her to sit on the stool. Soon she felt the soft weight of the Hat on her head, and then some silence.
Then the Hat made a noise - not out loud for everyone to hear, but in her head. Maggie nearly jumped.
"Mm, yes, tricky...both father and mother in Gryffindor, eh? Oh, there's bravery here, well enough, that's tempting. But, I think your future lies elsewhere, Callaghan, better off as...RAVENCLAW!"
And just like that, it was over - Maggie realized, with a sinking heart, that she was not in Gryffindor. Not like her mother. Not like her father. Professor McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat from her head and directed her over to the Ravenclaw table, whose members gave her a round of applause (Kendra smiling widely).
"Welcome to Ravenclaw!" a big fifth-year told her. Another girl jostled her good-naturedly.
"You got the best house!"
"Thanks." Maggie smiled, eyes drifting back to the Sorting Hat.
She and Kendra were eventually joined (much to their delight) by Beth as well; "Chichester, Joshua", "Church, David", "Dalton, Fern", "Davies, Roger", "Honeyhead, Alexandra", and "Scarcliff, Adam" soon followed them as the newest Ravenclaws.
By the time they reached the end of the list everyone was hungry and shifting restlessly, and there were only two left that Maggie was anxious to see sorted.
"Weasley, Fred!" was called first, and Maggie watched the first of the stocky Weasley twins gallivant up to the Hat and sit down on the stool. Immediately the rip of a mouth opened and the Hat said sternly, "If I wanted to sort you, they would call your name, Mr. Weasley! Your brother first, please!"
The twin - it must have been George, then, they must have switched (again), those sneaks! - jumped up with a laugh, a laugh that was echoed by some students up front.
"Twins, eh?" a boy beside Maggie asked his neighbour. "Looks like they'll be a laugh."
Fred was pushed up front in place of his twin, where McGonagall eyed him warningly before putting the Hat on his head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted - and though Maggie's heart did a painful little thump of disappointment, she still clapped for her new friend as he made his way to the Gryffindor table.
George went up a few seconds later, and the Hat again did not falter in its calling of, "GRYFFINDOR!". Maggie dutifully applauded again, and with that the Sorting was over.
Halfway through dinner, Beth asked, "So who were those Weasleys you were sitting with? Friends of yours?"
"Huh? No. Met them when we got off the train." Maggie replied absently, spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate. "They helped me find my toad."
Kendra was busy piling up her plate for seconds, much to the amazement of a third year beside her.
"They have two brothers in Gryffindor, I think." Maggie added, raising her eyes to do a sweep of the Gryffindor table. Suddenly she laughed, and Beth craned her head to see. She could see the twins, joking with a few boys beside them (including a dark-skinned boy with frizzy hair), and alongside the table she could see two more boys, older, each with their own head of bright, fiery hair.
"Wot?" Beth wanted to know, and Maggie pointed them out.
"How many Sickles d'you bet, that they're related?" she asked, and Beth snorted.
"Never could tell a family by their hair before!" she exclaimed with a laugh, and the two girls returned to their meals.
Halfway through dessert ("Are you still eating?" Maggie asked Kendra incredulously), they were joined by a somber looking figure, who rose up out of the bench and took a seat beside Maggie.
She was beautiful but so very pale, dark hair falling in a sheet to her waist, eyes upcast to the ceiling, lips puckered in either reminiscence or in boredom.
"Hullo." said Maggie, hesitantly. The ghost turned her head down to survey her.
"Hello." she replied in a soft voice.
"I'm Maggie." Maggie almost extended her hand but thought better of it. "Are you a - ?"
"Ghost? Yes." the lady began sliding through the table, briefly decapitated by a plate of cream puffs. "Pleased to meet you, Maggie."
"That was the Grey Lady." explained a prefect after she had left. "She's our house ghost, so to speak. Doesn't say much to anyone else, but she's quite nice to Ravenclaws, no need to worry."
Maggie thought she had looked rather sad.
After the meal, amidst the excited chatter of the Houses, Professor Dumbledore stood up - the older students immediately fell silent, the first years following suit shortly after. Staring up at her new Headmaster, Maggie felt that this was the sort of person who deserved to be listened to - behind the long white beard, Albus Dumbledore's face was serene, wise, but good natured, and he had the whole of the Great Hall silent in a matter of seconds.
"I hope you have all enjoyed tonight's feast as much as I have," Dumbledore began. "For those of you who have just recently joined our Hogwarts family, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he paused for the smattering of applause that followed.
"For the rest of you, welcome back. I hope you're as excited for the new year as I am.
"A few words before I send you off to bed - our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has kindly asked me to remind you about the list of banned items located on his office door, and that he has the authority to confiscate any Dungbombs he sees. As well, Professor Snape tells me that someone left their broomstick down in the dungeons last year. If you are for some reason missing a Comet 260, please see Professor Snape in the new week."
There was a small commotion at the Hufflepuff table - a ruddy faced boy was looking resolutely into his pumpkin juice as his mates thumped him on the back.
"I wish you all a productive year at Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, with a knowing look at the Hufflepuffs, "And I hope each and every one of you will try this year to remember what this great school was built on - the efforts of its founders, and the efforts of its students - past and present - who strive to uphold its values." Dumbledore smiled. "Goodnight, everyone."
On cue, Kendra yawned.
Sally Corner, a Ravenclaw prefect, was charged with leading the first years to their dormitory. She kept up a steady flow of chatter as they wound around the other students, and turned their trek into a guided tour of Hogwarts.
"There, where the Slytherins are headed, that's the entrance to the dungeons - you'll have Potions down there...watch these staircases, they're tricky - Fairfax, what did I just say?" (Beth had been trailing behind the group, mesmerized by a portrait of a medieval Quidditch game, and ended up having to take a leap in order to catch the staircase as it started moving).
"...here's where Charms is usually taught...you'll have Professor Flitwick for that, he's our Head of House you know...watch out for this portrait, sometimes its owner likes to get a little Fire-Whiskey friendly and - for heaven's sake, Friar Sam, they're first years! Put your clothes back on!"
Kendra and Maggie shrieked with laughter and covered their eyes as they passed the inebriated, cackling portrait, climbing the spiral staircase up the wide tower.
"I think I'm going to be sick," muttered Roger Davies, a dark haired boy not too much taller than Beth, one hand nervously pressed against the smooth stone wall as they ascended.
Sally stopped them at the top, in front of a door with a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle - there was nothing else on the door, no knob or handle or keyhole, and they all paused in anticipation.
"Now, you'll hear from other houses about their house password, how they need a specific word to enter their dormitories. We Ravenclaws do it a little differently. Watch," Sally turned respectfully to the knocker. "We'd like to come in, please."
"What gets wet when drying?" asked the knocker. The first years jumped. Sally turned back to them with a kind smile.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked them. "You'll have to answer a riddle every time you come in. It's a little daunting at first, but you'll get used to it."
"What if we get it wrong?" asked Quentin Banner, a sandy haired boy with a bit of a lisp.
"Then you wait until someone else can get it right. That way they pass on their knowledge to you, and you learn." Sally surveyed them. "Anyone like to have a go? Fairfax, what about you?"
Beth, prodded forward by Kendra, opened and closed her mouth a few times.
"Magic ink?" asked another first year, a blonde named Alexandra Honeyhead, hopefully from the back. The eagle gave a screech, which must have meant 'no', because Sally winced and looked back at Beth again.
"Fairfax?" she asked again, giving an encouraging nod.
"I - I don't know!" Beth squealed, tangling her fingers in her robes. "I - dunno, a towel? You use it to dry yourself but IT gets wet?"
There was a heavy click from within, and the door swung opened. Sally gave a low whistle.
"Well, good job!" she congratulated. "You get the idea, everyone, right? Now, get into the common room so I can shut the door..."
With a few congratulations for Beth, the first years quickly piled into the Ravenclaw common room, and stood waiting for Sally, hushed by what they saw.
They were standing, it almost seemed, under the night sky - the ceiling above their heads in the round room was domed, and painted with stars. In the darkness outside (the blue and bronze silk drapes had not yet been drawn), Maggie could hardly tell where the ceiling ended and the window began. Bookcases stretched out along every wall, accompanied by tables and chairs that were placed across the dark blue carpet. Across the room, a white marble statue of a beautiful, regal looking woman - why did she look a little familiar? - stood by a staircase that led (Maggie assumed) to the dormitories.
"Well, no sense standing around." Sally joined them with a brisk tone. "Up to bed, all of you - girls on the left, boys on the right. You should find all your trunks up there already. If you have any questions, you can ask me or any other Ravenclaw. 'Night."
"Goodnight." they echoed obediently, before heading upstairs - Maggie paused to examine the statue by the stairs, and Sally caught her looking.
"That's Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the founders of Hogwarts." she told her proudly.
"I feel like I've seen her before..." Maggie said absently, peering up at the woman's face - it was only when Kendra told her to hurry up did she break away and follow her new friend.
She found her trunk and toad cage on a blue four-poster bed, in between Beth and Fern Dalton, a girl with a spritely face and dark hair in a short cut. After brief, awkward introductions (Fern was from Brighton; blonde Alexandra hailed from Lisburn), Maggie wanted to do nothing more than curl up in her bed and sleep.
"Classes tomorrow," Beth murmured drowsily once they had changed into their pajamas, brushing out her hair. "Excited?"
"Mm-hmm." Maggie slid under the covers. "Can't wait."
When she closed her eyes she could still see the stars on the ceiling, almost glimmering like they were real.
So this is Hogwarts... was her last thought before she drifted off. How wonderful.
A/N: Er, yes! So, there we go!