Of Trips and Trials
or
Journey to Answers
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HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall
(Order of Merlin, 2nd class, Sr fellow of the International Order
of Transfigurationists, past Sgt. At Arms, International Council of Wizards)
Dear Miss Possible,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Neville Longbottom
Deputy Headmaster
Kim looked at her mother, "Mom? Have you ever heard of a 'Hogwarts'?"
Anne laid an advertisement down, reaching for her coffee cup. "What was that, honey? Hogwarts?"
Kim passed the invitation. "See? I've never heard of it. And where is it anyway?"
Anne's brows rose in amusement. "Witchcraft and Wizardry?" She glanced at Ron, "Ronald, have you been filling out any entry blanks lately?"
Ron paled, "Not me, Mrs. P."
"I hope not," Anne mock frowned, "Last time, you won Kim a live rattlesnake."
Kim shuddered, and Ron dipped his head, scuffing the floor with one sneaker clad foot. "I don't know what the problem was. It was a friendly snake. Didn't get along with Rufus, though."
Anne smiled, then reached for the envelope. "Maybe it has a return address..." She began, "oh, Kimmie, there's more."
Ron and KP crowded forward eagerly. "What is it?"
"Jinx!" Kim giggled.
"Oh, man..."
"Settle down," Anne laughed, "now, let's see." She pulled two more items from the envelope and, shaking the first page open, began to read.
"UNIFORM
First year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4.One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags." Anne looked up in bemusement, "Whoever this is, they certainly took the joke seriously. Look at this list of books."
The two children crowded close. "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk?" Kim marveled. "A History of Magic, revised ed. by Bertram Bagshot? What is this?"
"One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Ewwww, fungus." Ron gagged.
Anne held the paper out, "And they have a list of equipment for you to bring, Kimmie. A wand, a cauldron, phials, scales... oh, and you can also take a toad or rat if you like."
"Ewww, gorchy," Kim made a face. "Why would I?"
Anne grinned slyly, "Well, another option is an owl."
Kim's rebuke was overridden by Ron's excited cry, "KP, you get a broom! How cool is that?"
"So not into the sweeping, Ron," Kim growled. "Besides, it says I can't have a one the first year. And it's broomstick, not broom."
Ron's face fell as he muttered, "There's a difference?"
Anne answered, "Well, yes, there is, Ron. Witches fly on broomsticks; you sweep with a broom."
Kim began to laugh, "Mom, are you beginning to take this seriously?"
Looking into the envelope, Anne pulled out two more pieces of paper. "I don't know, Kimmie, but it looks like some one is." She held up what looked like a ticket. "This is a ticket to the Hogwart's Express, Platform 9 and ¾ for 11am on September 1st."
Ron picked up the letter that Anne had set down. "Hey, look at this, a push scrape."
"I think you mean Post Script, Ron." Anne smiled indulgently. "What does it say?"
"If you do not have access to Owl Post, please signify acceptance by writing A-C-Q-U-I-E-N-S-I-E on the back of this sheet. What's that spell, KP?"
"I don't know, Ron." Kim picked up a pen. "Should I, Mom?"
Anne leaned forward, "Go ahead, Kimmie; what could happen?"
Ron looked worried, but Kim calmly printed in large letters on the back of the paper. Ron let out an audible breath when nothing happened.
Kim laughed in relief. "What did we think could happen by writing acquiensie on a piece of paper?"
Three sets of eyeballs popped as the sheet then split itself in half, the back floating into the air to disappear in a puff of smoke.
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The two preteens sat on the couch in the tree house, staring at their sneakers. Neither had said a word when Anne Possible finally managed to close her dropped jaw long enough to choke out, "I...I think you two should go outside to play." Kim and Ron turned and left without a word, not slowing until they reached their sanctuary.
"Weird much?" Ron finally muttered.
Kim stopped tapping her sneaker toes together. "Well, yeah, a little." She turned her head to grin at her companion, "But what it really did was make me want to know how they did it."
Nervous brown eyes turned to look into inquisitive green ones. Ron dropped his head in his hands. "No, no, no. Not again. Remember what happened when you wanted to know how the hair permanent worked?"
Kim rubbed her toes together, "You looked cute with curls."
"Maybe, but Mom wasn't too happy about the purple hair. And what about when..."
"OK, Ron," Kim interrupted his beginning list, "Maybe we did some things we shouldn't have," she said, ignoring Ron's silent mouthing of "We?", "but I really want to find out what's going on."
Ron tried to speak, his mouth working helplessly, before he finally dropped his head in acceptance. "Alright, KP, so, what do we do?"
Kim tried to hide her triumphant grin. "Don't know yet, but I'll think of something."
Ron's head fell back against the couch. "That's what I'm afraid of," He whispered to himself.
"What?"
"Ah, I believe in you, KP."
III.
James Possible presented his family's passports to the customs agent at Heathrow airport. How he got here on this ridiculous quest, he still wasn't certain. He had firmly intended to take his family to Cape Canaveral on their vacation. Instead, he found himself leaving the twins with his mother and racing around to get all the paperwork needed for an overseas trip done in two weeks. And he was still being given glares by his daughter for refusing to allow her friend to come with them. . "What did she want me to do? It's not like he's family, never mind the disasters that follow the boy around."
Retrieving his passports from the polite agent, James turned to find his family walking off. Hurrying to catch up, he watched Anne pull something form her carry-on bag and begin unfolding it.
"Dear, what are you doing?" He asked.
Anne smiled at him as she held up a sign reading HOGWARTS. "Trying to find a cab that knows where we're going, honey. That's all. Why don't you go get our luggage while we get the taxi."
James eyebrows rose, but he had long experience in when to disagree with his spouse. "All right, dear, just stay right here, so I know where to find you."
"All right. If we're not here, we'll be right outside at the cab stand." Anne agreed, unfolding her placard.
James walked away, shaking his head. "Witchcraft and wizards. How did I let myself get talked into this?" He noticed a red-headed man and woman approaching him, arguing. James grinned, "I know this is England, but those costumes are strange, even for hangovers from the '60s. Haven't they heard that the Mod scene died thirty years ago?" His mood lifted, he strolled on to the baggage claims.
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"Ron could get us a taxi, or at least an ambulance." Kim muttered, skipping back to miss the spray of dirty water the auto sent her way. "Why couldn't he have come?" She kicked a puddle.
"Now, that's enough, Kimmie," Anne scolded, "You've done nothing but sulk and complain since we left home."
Kim looked up, her wet eyes sparkling, "Want Ron."
"I know, Kimmie, but what would Ronald think if he could see you now?" Anne ventured.
Kim started with a thought, "He... he wouldn't like it."
"That's right, and I'm sure he misses you just as much, but I'm also certain he would want you to have a good time. What will he say when all you can tell him about the trip was how much you moped and cried that he wasn't here?"
Tear-filled eyes glared up at her.
Anne turned away, "I suppose he'll think anything's not possible for a Possible."
"Is too."
Glancing back and down, Anne hid her smile as Kim knuckled her eyes and glared up at her. "Why don't you hold this up then, and see if anybody spots it?"
Still glaring suspiciously, Kim snatched the placard and began walking up and down, holding the Hogwarts sign high.
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James stood at the luggage carousel, waiting for the bags to begin appearing. In front of him, the balding red-headed man was smiling and whistling to himself as his wife nattered at him.
"Arthur, this can't be right. None of these Muggles have any luggage."
He smiled down at her, "Don't worry, Molly, I know what I'm doing. Harry said we just had to hand the bags over."
"And when did Harry ever use an airpot?
"I believe it's called an airport, Molly, not pot."
Suitcases and bags began appearing through the strips, sliding and swirling onto the carousel.
Molly crossed her arms, "That's it. I didn't want to do this in the first place, but you assured me you knew what you were doing and you don't even know where to..."
The man's head sunk into his shoulders, "Now, Molly..."
"Don't you 'Molly' me, Arthur Weasley. This is..."
At that moment, a muffled roar came from outside. Molly turned to see a jumbo jet rise steeply into the air. Her face paled. "No. No, no, no..." She turned quickly to leave but ran into James.
James caught her by the shoulders.
"Excuse me," Molly said, stepping back, before looking at her husband. "Arthur, I am going home," She said as she stalked away.
James looked at the older man with sympathy. "You know, my wife's a redhead, too."
The two smiled at each other in comradely understanding.
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Anne watched Kim stomp diligently back and forth, holding her sign over her head. She really didn't think it would help, but at least it gave Kim something to do besides brood.
"Excuse me, dear, but the Ministry frowns upon that."
Anne turned at the soft voice, looking down at a short, plump, older red-headed woman. "Excuse me?" She gestured around at the plethora of signs people were waving.
Yes, I see, dear, but those are Muggles," the friendly woman stated matter of factly. "I'm Molly Weasley, and you are?"
Anne threw out all the stories she'd heard of the standoffish English, instead holding out her hand. "I'm Anne Possible and this is my daughter Kimberly." As the two shook hands, she looked over at her little girl. "Kim, come over and say hello."
Kim folded her sign, tucked it under her arm, and walked over.
"Kim, this is..." Anne cocked a brow at Molly in question.
Molly bent over, holding out her hand, "I'm Mrs. Weasley, dear. Are you going to Hogwarts?"
Kim looked at her mother, "I'm not sure, Ma'am."
Molly glanced at Anne in question.
"We're really here on vacation and to see if we can find out anything about the place," Anne explained.
A frown began to form on Molly's forehead. "You've never heard of Hogwarts?
"No, actually, and we..."
"My family, both sides, have always gone to Hogwarts," Molly folded her arms.
"I'm sorry, but we're from America and we..."
"Oh, Americans. That explains it." Molly relaxed in satisfaction before frowning in befuddlement. "How did you hear of the school then?"
"I got an invitation," Kim piped up, tired of being ignored. "It was really pretty."
Molly smiled at Kim. "Yes, dear, the invitations are very nice." She turned back to Anne, "How is it you've never heard of Hogwarts, even in America?" Her tone suggested she thought of America as a land where the savages were about to come flying over the horizon. "What kind of witch are you?"
Anne's jaw dropped. "Ah, I'm not a...ah...witch. I just finished my residency in Neurosurgery."
"Your husband?" Molly asked tentatively.
"He's an aerospace engineer, one of the up-and-coming stars at the Middleton Space Center," Anne managed.
"Oh, dear," Molly looked both horrified and embarrassed.
"Have we done something wrong?" Anne began to be worried.
Molly immediately patted Anne's hand. "Not you, dear, but I may have... I need Arthur." She looked around as if she expected him to materialize immediately. "Arthur!"
"Who's Arthur?" Kim asked.
"My husband, dear," Molly replied, distractedly, "Arthur!"
Anne looked around and saw James coming toward them with an older, red-headed man. "Jimmy!"
"Arthur!"
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"And you say they won't take cash?"
"It's not that they won't; it just causes problems. They're really not set up for it, and the security question comes in," James explained. "They're worried about hijackings, bomb threats, that sort of thing."
"Really? They won't take Muggle money and they won't take your bags in baggage." Arthur shook his head, "How do you figure it out?"
"Most people pay with a credit or debit card. That way they can precheck your identity."
"Oh, that would never work," Arthur shook his head. "Not at all."
James slanted a quizzical look at his strange new friend as he pushed the baggage cart along. A man of his age who had never learned how to get a flight? Where had the man been all his life?
"And diggit cards, what are those?"
"It's a sort of credit card, but instead of sending you a bill, it deducts the amount immediately from your bank account."
"Fascinating. Oh, that's where Molly got off, too. I was afraid she had gone directly home," Arthur pointed.
"And she seems to have met my family," James smiled. "That's my wife and daughter with her."
"Really? How fortunate," Arthur frowned. "Unless my ears deceive me, she seems to be yelling for me." He cut his eyes toward his companion. "Knowing Molly, perhaps we should go to a pub for a while?" His grin was both hopeful and humourous.
James grinned, "That might be the better part of valor, but unfortunately, my wife has spotted me." He nodded at the taller, waving Anne.
"Ah, well, onward," Arthur sighed.
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"This is a... ah... a very roomy car, Arthur," James finally managed.
"The ministry does owe Arthur quite a few favors," Molly replied complacently.
"Now, Molly, it's not like that at all," Arthur spoke deprecatingly. "It's a slow day, so they didn't mind loaning me one."
Anne leaned forward. "You keep mentioning this Ministry. Which one is it?"
"The Ministry of Magic, of course," Molly smiled.
James blinked. After stepping away for a heated, if whispered, discussion, the Weasleys had insisted they give the Possibles a lift. Molly smilingly informed them that they would tell them all about Hogwarts and what it meant to Kim. Seeing the twinkle in Anne's eyes, the unvoiced demand, he had given in. The shocks began when he pushed the baggage cart up to the little car Arthur indicated. Before he could say more than "I don't think...", the driver had bundled all the bags into the trunk and was opening the passenger door. His eyes bulging with unasked questions, he had unconsciously allowed himself to be bundled into a back seat that, from the outside, should have held no more than one and a half passengers. Now, here he sat, calmly sipping the tea Molly had passed him, hearing a word he didn't believe in. "Magic?" he croaked.
Anne twinkled at him before turning to Molly. "Of course, how stupid of me. It's just I don't think we have one of those in the US."
"Oh, you have one," Arthur confided. "It's just kept on the QT, as I'm sure you can understand. What bothers me is why Minerva didn't send the invitation by hand, with someone to explain it, I mean."
"We have a department of magic?" James whispered. The others ignored him.
"Now, don't start picking on Minerva, Arthur; I'm sure she had her reasons," Molly scolded as the car came to a stop.
"That's a strange door," Kim spoke up.
"I suppose," Arthur smiled, "But I think you'll like it."
Anne and James looked out the window and then at each other. "What door?" their eyes asked each other.
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Anne almost giggled as she watched her husband. James' right eye had developed a definite twitch. He had blinked at the expanding car, twitched at the door that appeared when Molly took his hand, as Arthur had done with her own, and was now at a point where the increase was barely recognizable from the disturbance at the bar. "What's the problem over there?" she asked Molly.
Molly looked up from where she was trying to coax a smiling Kim into having just one more pudding. "What was that, Anne?"
"Over there, by the bar. What's happening?"
Molly glanced over, then shook her head. "Leprechauns. Tch, they never learn, or they don't listen. He probably tried to pay with leprechaun gold." She turned back to Kim.
"And, ah, what's wrong with leprechaun gold?" James asked in a suspiciously calm voice.
"Oh, everybody knows it disappears in a week," Molly replied. "But all the newcomers try it. They just don't listen."
"Right. That makes perfect sense," James nodded. "I suppose they lost the Philosopher's stone?"
"Oh, no, dear," Molly assured him, "Dumbledore destroyed that years ago."
Anne cupped her mouth with her hands, trying to hold in the laughter as she watched her love's solidly logical world take another hit. This trip might just be what it took to knock him out of his unshakeability. 'It would be good for him,' she assured herself. 'Still,' she though to herself, 'why not loosen a few more bricks?' "Molly, since there really are witches and leprechauns and... and everything. Are there unicorns?"
"Oh, yes, dear, lovely animals, but very shy. Prefer girls to boys, though."
"And... and, fairies?"
"Pixies, really. Very mischievous," Molly nodded.
Arthur returned, watching as James nodded sanely, "Pixies..."
"Molly, love, I think we're all set." He smiled broadly at the party. "I had Anne and James' reservations refunded, and they now have a suite of rooms here at the Leaky Cauldron."
James snapped out of his daze. "What? But we..."
"Don't worry about it, dear," Anne patted his hand, "Molly and I discussed it while you were away."
James realized discussion was a waste of time. The decision had been made. "That's fine, Anne, but why are we staying here?"
Before she could answer, the door slammed open to admit the largest man James had ever seen. Dark-haired, shaggy, and so tall his head seemed to disappear in the shadows of the roof timbers. His huge body swiveled, and a manic smile blossomed among his whiskers. "Molly! Arthur!"
James drew a deep breath, readying himself for action. He wasn't sure what action he could attempt, but something. "That's... that's..." he swallowed heavily, "A giant!"
"No, dear," Molly said soothingly, "Only half, but we don't talk about it."
James stared at her, aghast.
"He's one of our oldest friends," Molly explained, "one of the gentlest souls you'll ever meet."
James glanced at her, then at the giant, then returned his gaze to Molly in disbelief. He had just watched as the giant progressed across the room, unconsciously sliding occupied tables and chairs out of his way as he brushed by. "Right, whatever you say," James choked.
One giant hand engulfed Arthur's as he bent over to kiss Molly on the top of the head. "Din't expect to see you two here."
The bartender interrupted the greetings, "Drink, Hagrid?"
"No, no, Tom, here on business," Hagrid answered, then thought, "Well, time for maybe one small one."
James opened and closed his mouth twice before finally croaking, "Could I have a scotch, please?"
Everyone turned toward him, Hagrid, the Weasleys, Tom in question, and Anne in sympathy.
"Scotch? Wat's that?" Tom finally asked before brightening, "We don't have any haggis, sir, the smell you know, but we do have some lovely dragon tripe."
James shook his head. What kind of bar didn't know what scotch was? "No, not food, scotch whiskey."
Tom shook his head in negation. "Don't rightly know about that, sir, but we have a very nice Fire Whiskey."
James looked up, and up, at Hagrid, "That'll do," he managed. As Tom left, James made an aborted move to stand when he saw Hagrid bending over his daughter.
"And wat 'ave we 'ere?" The half-giant boomed, "Another Weasley?" He turned to Arthur and Molly, "I thought all of yours were graduated and gone. Is she Ron or Giny's get?'
Before either could answer, a small voice piped up, "I'm not a Weasley, sir; I'm a Possible." Kim stared in fascination at the huge man bending over her.
One oversized finger tickled her chin, starting her giggling.
"Look an' feel like a Weasley," Hagrid teased. "Do you get in as much trouble?"
Before she could answer, Hagrid called to the barkeep, "Oy, Tom, bring another round over here, and I think a butterbeer for our young Possible."
Kim giggled louder, "I'm not old enough to drink beer, sir."
Molly answered the worry in Anne's face. "Don't worry, it doesn't have enough alcohol in it to bother a house elf," she leaned over to whisper, "but it will help her wind down and sleep."
Anne nodded in acceptance, but decided she would try it first before allowing Kim to have any.
After introducing the Possibles to Hagrid, Arthur inquired, "What are you doing here, Hagrid? I would think you'd be busy at Hogwarts."
"Fair buried, Arthur," Hagrid admitted, his voice lowered. "But I'm here on business for Professor McGonagall, secret business," he added portentously.
"Oh, well, we mustn't keep Minerva's business waiting, then," Arthur agreed as Tom set the drinks down. "Here's to her."
Anne blinked as Hagrid quaffed his oversize tankard in one gulp. "Got to go." Hagrid leaned over Kim, "But you be sure to come to my cottage when you get to Hogwarts, Kim. Got some sweet creatures to show ya." He stood, nodded blithely at the others, then strode away.
Kim sipped the mother-tested drink in wonder. "Are there many people like him at school, Ma'am?" She asked Molly.
"Our Hagrid is one of a kind." Molly assured her before glancing at the others. "Oh, dear."
Anne turned to look at James. His mouth was open in a soundless gasp for air, his eyes were bulging, his cheeks looked to be on fire, and his body looked as stiff as if he had gone into rigor mortis. "Jimmy?" She could swear she saw small flames leaking out of his nostrils. "Jimmy!"
Her husband's stiff body finally collapsed into limpness, his head slumped on his chest.
"What did you think of it?" Arthur asked. "How does it compare to your 'scotch'?"
"It... it... I..." James managed to get some air in his lungs. "S... Sssssmooth...," he wheezed.
Molly beamed. "Glad you liked it." She said, turning to Anne, "And now, it's getting late. I'm sure you're tired, so we'll show you up to your room, and tomorrow..."
Arthur interrupted, "Diagon Alley."
