Chapter 3: A Whole New World
Tuesday morning, Mrs. Weasley took me to Diagon Alley in London. It was strange to think that less than a week earlier, I'd wanted to come to London, and I'd been prepared for a long hitchiking journey to get there, and days later, a two-second ride in a fireplace had transported me to a part of London that most people didn't even know existed. Our first stop was to Gringotts to change my Muggle money, but directly afterwards Mrs. Weasley took me to Ollivander's. When we got there, Mr. Ollivander was fitting a round-faced boy named Neville with a new wand. I was glad I got to see him go first because otherwise, sending a whole shelf clattering to the floor with the first wand Mr. Ollivander brought out would have been much more traumatizing.
Mr. Ollivander explained to me about the wand's core after Neville left, and then he brought out a five inch oak wand with a unicorn hair feather. I waved it around as I had seen Neville do about twenty times, and the shelf in front of me blew into pieces. If I hadn't seen Mr. Ollivander grin several times at Neville as the boy blew up a shelf, a jar of ink, and a stack of parchment, I would have been worried, but Mr. Ollivander seemed resigned to the explosions, and even happy about it after my third wand and a rather spectacular shower of ceiling. The fourth wand he brought out was a really whippy wand of about ten inches in beech that had a dragon heartsring core.
"Let's see, how about this one," Mr. Ollivander handed me the wand.
I waved it, and a string of fire briefly shot out of the tip, igniting a whole slew of shelves. Mr. Ollivander actually giggled a little at that before putting it out and muttering, "Getting close...I think I know...very good for...whippy..."
He brought out the fifth wand then. He'd been going progressively deeper into the shop with each choice. This wand was another whippy one, seven inches, made of maple with a Phoenix tail feather core. I knew as soon as I held it that this was the one. The handle seemed molded to my fingers, and warmth shot up my arm as I gave it a wave. Green sparks danced from the end and stayed suspended briefly, flittering in front of my eyes. Mr. Ollivander's eyes were shining.
"Ah...a beautiful fit. This is an excellent wand for someone new to magic. There's so much potential for learning, and this wand works so well in so many disciplines."
I raised an eyebrow but managed to keep my tongue in check. I could have told him that I've never been very good in school, but why ruin his fun?
From Ollivander's Mrs. Weasley bustled me to several other shops, gathering the remaining supplies from my list. We only just made it back to the Burrow in time to open the envelope that I was not supposed to open. Professor Dumbledore explained to me that in the envelope was a shoelace that was a Portkey, and it would take me to his Hogwarts office at exactly three o'clock.
When we arrived, I immediately sat opposite of the Headmaster, staring somewhat woozily at the shoelace he'd placed on his desk, and he offered me a lemon drop, which I thought was peculiar, but decided to indulge in. He took an old, ragged hat off a shelf then and handed it to me.
"There are four houses in Hogwarts. You will participate in classes, live in dormitories, and cheer for Quidditch (or not) with your fellow house mates for the rest of your journey here. The houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. This hat is very old, a possession of Godric Gryffindor, one of the house founders, and it has been bewitched with the ability to sort you into a house. Each founder valued different traits, so the hat sorts you based on what it sees inside of you, and whichever traits are most dominant.
I thought my eyeballs were going to leave my skull when a tear near the brim opened up and the tatty, old thing began to speak...or rather...sing. It decided to test out its new Sorting Song on me. After the hat finished singing about the founders, the houses, and sticking together in tough times, Professor Dumbledore smiled at me, almost giddy from above his steepled, and on one hand damaged fingers, and then he indicated that I should put the hat on, so, reluctantly, I did.
"Ah, Cassy, you're very guarded, but I see a rebellious streak here. You could do well in Slytherin, but there's something else here...a great potential for learning. You have a brain for knowledge. You would do well in Ravenclaw as well."
I glared at the inside of the hat. That Gryffindor fellow must have had a huge head.
"Godric did indeed, but you seem displeased. I see here also a proficiency in Divination. You would do very well in Slytherin with that gift. It can be used in so many ways for those who are skilled, and--"
"Look, as you've noticed, I can do this Divination thing, so I've already seen myself wearing Hogwarts robes in blue and bronze. I know that means Ravenclaw. That Potter kid explained it to me, so why don't we skip the small...whatever and just sort me into Ravenclaw? I don't understand it, but why mess with the future right?"
"With that impatience," the hat sighed into her head, "very well then. Ravenclaw!" the hat said aloud, less boisterously than it usually might, since the Headmaster was the only other person in the room and the office was small compared to the Great Hall.
I took the hat off, rolling my eyes and then looking at the smiling, twinkling Professor. "What?"
"Nothing at all," Dumbledore smirked, "Professor Flitwick will show you to your dormitory, and he'll be helping you to catch up on as much of the fundamentals of magic as you can. I'm afraid that I have other business to attend to. Professor Flitwick is the Head of Ravenclaw house though, so he should be able to help you with anything you need. You will be expected to do most of your learning on your own," here the Headmaster gave her a stern and piercing look which she returned until he chuckled. "Of course, if you feel at any point that you are unable to learn the first five years of material as well as the sixth in classes (completely understandable) then you may let one of your professors know and we will arrange to postpone your OWLs and put you back a few years for your studies. OWLs are usually taken in the fifth year, so technically you're behind anyway. It's to be expected, and it wouldn't make much of a difference if you needed more time, but I really would like to keep you with your peers if I can, and I do believe you will prove yourself a quick study," he winked. "Now, Professor Flitwick is waiting just outside to show you to your dorm, and then he'll meet you in your house common room to discuss which classes you might wish to take."
When I left the office, I met a tiny man...Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and Professor of Charms. He took me down a ton of hallways, some of which moved and up some stairs (I got stuck in one about halfway up because he forgot to warn me about a "vanishing step" whatever the point of that is). He told me on the way that the castle had been designed by the founder of Ravenclaw house. When we got to the entrance of the dormitories, there was a portrait, and I realized I hadn't been imagining all of the portraits moving in the halls. It asked us for a password, which turned out to be "Episkey," and then we came to a room decked out in blue with a ton of bronze metalwork. It was late in the day, and the way the sun hit everything, well, I knew I was home, and for a girl who's moved as much as I have, that's more important than you might imagine. There really wasn't time to explore sadly. Professor Flitwick showed me my bed and then we went to the library to check out several books he seemed to feel would be necessary to supplement what he was planning to teach me. Then, he wanted to talk to me about my plans for the future.
"What was your career goal before you learned you were a witch?"
I can't be certain, but I imagine that in that moment I looked like someone had hit me with some sort of spell. I couldn't move. You'd have thought it was rocket science, but it was a fairly simple question. The truth was, I'd never given it much thought. My family was always moving, so I was always adjusting. There just never seemed to be much time for self-reflection, and besides, that was in the future. I know very well about the future, and I just figured it would come to me in time. I did know what I didn't want to be. I didn't want to be my parents. I think they're happy, but that life is definitely not for me. They always have their mobiles glued to their ears. They work all hours of the day, probably even while they dream. I'd never had a burning desire to be a workaholic.
"Umm...I don't actually know. Why does it matter?"
Professor Flitwick seemed somewhat taken aback, but he recovered, "Well, the career you plan to pursue determines which courses you wish to take as well as OWLs you'd like to sit. Do you have at least a general idea?"
I blushed then. "No, not really."
He slogged on. "Okay then, we'll just have to teach you the basics, and we'll see what happens, but I highly suggest you start thinking about it. I'll get you some pamphlets on different careers."
After that, Professor Flitwick felt it was necessary to fill me in on some current events in the wizarding world. He explained to me as much as he could about He Who Must Not Be Named. It seems like a mouthful, but I'll take it. The real name doesn't seem much better. He's basically the Muggle equivalent of Hitler I guess. I don't know what that means, him being magical and all. He's only recently come back, but apparently Hogwarts is pretty safe. I figure I'll jump that hurdle if and when I come to it.
The first thing the Professor decided to teach me was flight. I was eager to learn more about how the Weasleys flew around on broomsticks, since that was how I'd found them, so I was a little disappointed that there wasn't any wandwork involved. The broomsticks were magical themselves, so I just had to say, "Up!" and then mount. I was definitely wobbly my first time out, hovering a yard or so off the ground. The Weasley brothers made it look easy. I found it less than...balancing all your body weight on the space between your legs and a two-inch in circumfrence stick that responds to the slightest tilt or bob, I could tell it would take me some time to learn, but I was more than willing to put in the hours.
From there, Professor Flitwick took me to the Great Hall. The nicest thing about the term not being started yet was that he could show me around everywhere. I'm not sure how these kids learn to get around. I'd have been lost without an escort. The food's great though...magically appearing on the plate.
For the rest of the summer, Professor Flitwick taught me the basics of magical theory, charms, wandwork, and what he could about Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions, the only classes where the Professors who usually teach them were unavailable to help me. There wasn't any Potions Professor yet, and the other two had duties they needed to attend to. The only course he let me drop was Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Hagrid is a huge man with a frightening love of frightening animals. I don't even like cats. I let Professor Flitwick know that I had no intention of working with animals, and that was that. The only non-basic course I take is Divination. I've already gotten a much better handle on the visions. Professors Trelawney and Firenze love to go on about me having "the Sight" or being "a true Seer," but the fact is, it's all very boring in reality. I did get to discuss it with Professor Dumbledore one night. He suggested my skill in Divination probably developed for me over time, since I've always had to be really observant of my surroundings, spending a lot of time growing up in big cities...and taking risks. In the evenings before dinner I would fly around some, and after dinner I study the stars and read my History of Magic text. A couple of nights when I first got to the castle I took the time to explore the dormitories and common room.
It was shocking to me how two months could have made such a difference in my life. Before I knew it, classes were routine, and I was throwing around words like wand, Galleon, and Muggle as if they were everyday speech. I had become accustomed, in two short months, to staircases that moved, pictures that talked, and armor that walked. I'd ceased to bat an eye when my food magically appeared on my plate. I'd long stopped considering the very word magic to be anything magical. Everything just felt...normal...until several hundred other, more experienced witches and wizards arrived into the large castle and began to discuss Quidditch games, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products, Hogsmeade, The Daily Prophet, Ollivander's disappearance, and eventually...the new girl with the green bangs.
For the first time in a long time...I was the new kid. I could tell this Hogwarts thing wasn't going to stop being an adventure...not for awhile.