Everyone was in a better mood on Saturday. A good night's sleep did them all a world of good. The weather was still beautiful, so Jessica, Kate, and her parents went sightseeing in Cannular Square. They visited several shops they didn't see the day before. There was a used book store, virtually empty except for a couple of frumpy looking witches thumbing through dog-eared copies of the collected works of Guilderoy Lockhart ("3 Flitters for the set," a hastily scrawled sign announced).
The apothecary was a storehouse of cauldrons, mortars and pestles, vials, scales, and potion ingredients, including boomslang skins, dragon blood, bat spleens, mandrake root, jimson weed, and even stranger items. Mr. Burroughs treated the girls to another Fizzbang. This time, Jessica could choose her own flavor and decided to go with banana-blueberry. Kate decided to try cantaloupe.
The store that most fascinated Jessica, however, was Hatrack and Twiggs Quality Brooms. It seemed every few minutes a young witch or wizard zipped over the skies of Cannular Square on a broom, all with leather satchels over their shoulders or backpacks on their backs. Mr. Burroughs explained they all worked for a delivery service, transporting parcels back and forth between the various shops on the square. Some, he said, even used Disillusionment Charms to shuttle unseen between the square and the centers of wizarding government across the river in Georgetown. Jessica always thought of ugly Halloween witches flying on brooms. She had since learned that flying broomsticks were a common method of wizarding transportation.
She remembered the school newspaper Kate had showed her nearly three months ago and the picture of exuberant Quodpot players. Quodpot was a wizarding sport, Kate explained, played on broomsticks fifty feet above the ground, with a ball, called a Quod, that exploded unless it was dropped into a cauldron filled with a deactivating potion.
"When my grandpa ran the store, we only sold used broomsticks. Now we carry new ones straight from Hatrack and Twiggs," Kate explained. "Dad's really good at figuring out what the next big item is going to be. I got an Osprey 360 for my birthday when I turned twelve," she smiled. "Dad stocked up on them for the store. Then, three months later, the Portland Fury announced they were switching to Ospreys. Well, they've won the National Championship three or four times in the last ten years, so suddenly everybody wanted an Osprey. The price nearly doubled. My cousin Merlina hated it! She's still using an old Firebolt that has got to be at least fifteen years old."
Jessica was amazed at all the different brands of broomsticks: Nimbuses, Firebolts, Firestars, Cleansweeps, Ospreys… A little boy younger than her was looking with his dad at brooms for his birthday present.
"It's too bad first years can't bring their own brooms to school," Kate remarked. "I'll bet my dad could get you a great deal on one of these Ospreys or maybe even the new Firestar. The school brooms are okay, but most of them are so old the charms are starting to wear off."
"I-I think I'd rather stay on the ground!" Jessica said.
"Well, don't knock it till you've tried it," Kate said. "You get flying lessons your first year, you know. I bet you change your mind once you've been up there."
Jessica wasn't entirely sure of that. Nor was she convinced she could handle flying lessons. Still, she had managed to get through the S.Q.U.I.D. At least the broom wasn't likely to talk back to her!
In a narrow alley off the square they stopped for ice cream, which they ate at an outdoor table where they could enjoy the sunshine and watch the crowds go by. Across the street was a post office with a high tower from which owls flitted in and out. Next door was another wand shop. A couple of boys with dark, bushy hair were leaving this store with a short, middle-aged witch who must have been their mother. The younger boy was swishing his wand back and forth, pretending to work spells. The older boy noticed the foursome and grinned in an awkward kind of way.
"Uh, hi Kate," he mumbled.
"Hey, Claudius!" Kate smiled. "Claudius, these are my parents, and this is my friend, Jessica Robinson. She's starting her first year at Malkin."
"Oh," Claudius said. His mother nudged him as his younger brother suppressed a giggle but could not conceal his mischievous smirk.
"I mean," his voice squeaked, "pleased to meet you, Mr. Burroughs, Mrs. Burroughs. This is my mom and my brother."
"Pleased to meet you all," the boys' mom said. "Jessica, are you any relation to Emma Robinson-Rupert, the former Quodpot Commissioner?"
"No ma'am, my parents aren't wizards."
"Ah," Claudius' mom said, smiling.
"Jessica, this is Claudius Poole," Kate explained. "He's in my year. He writes for the school paper. Is your brother starting at Malkin?"
"Yeah," Claudius said, attempting—yet failing—to sound at ease making pleasant conversation. "This is Marcus. We just got his wand over at Bitterstaff's."
"Mahogany, nineteen inches," the younger brother stated proudly. With the air of an expert, he added, "Mrs. Bitterstaff says mahogany is a good solid wood all around. What's yours?"
"Ash," Jessica said, trying to remember what Mr. Lipinsky had said. "I mean, mountain ash," she corrected herself. "And the core is…uh…something that starts with an M."
"What? You don't know your own wand core?" Marcus scoffed. "That'll really impress the teachers, won't it?"
Mrs. Poole shushed her son. Claudius and Jessica's faces were having a contest to see which could turn red the fastest.
"C'mon, Marc. Lay off!" Claudius whispered. Marcus, however, seemed quite pleased with himself.
Mrs. Poole grabbed Marcus by the collar and dragged him toward the square. Claudius turned back to wave at Kate with a halfhearted smile and a look of deep embarrassment.
Jessica bowed her head over the last bite of her ice cream. S.Q.U.I.D.s and flying broomsticks seemed the least of her problems at Malkin Academy if she also had to put up with the likes of Marcus Poole.
As the afternoon progressed, however, Jessica had forgotten about Marcus and messing up her wand core. (And she made a mental note to learn as much as she possibly could about wand-making—and fast!) They visited a museum of American Wizarding History, where they saw all sorts of important historical artifacts. They had a replica of Agrippa Wardstone's wand—maple and phoenix feather, fourteen and a half inches, Jessica noted—as well as several government documents he had signed. There was a display of the skins and pelts of "Magical Creatures of North America": snallygasters, hugags, chupacabras, jabberknolls, jackalopes, glawackuses…. Jessica had never heard of any of them!
There was also a gallery of "Defining Moments in American Wizarding History." As in the Dragon's Head Tavern, the images moved on the canvas. In one painting a round, bemused-looking wizard in a powdered wig stood next to three Native American men each at least a foot taller than him. On closer inspection, Jessica gasped to see the Native Americans had pointed ears like the aliens in old science-fiction TV shows. The caption read, "Hiram Cowperthwaite Visits Leaders of the Nunnehi – Crones Creek, North Carolina, 1747." One and then another of the tall Indians slowly faded from the picture. Hiram Cowperthwaite looked around as if to see where they disappeared to, more exasperated than concerned.
Other paintings depicted witches and wizards signing treaties or conducting trade with other strange beings. Some, like the Pagwadjinini (who looked adoringly at a witch named Cassandra Marable as they attended her in her Connecticut sitting room in 1709) were no taller than children.
Then there was the portrait of the opening of the first American branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank (New York, 1655). A half-dozen stern-looking goblins stood restively beside an equal number of wizards in front of a huge marble structure. Jessica's thoughts turned to Mr. Burroughs and his problems with the goblins. Kate had filled Jessica in the night before about some of the details she had missed. She had only known Mr. Burroughs for twenty-four hours, but she couldn't believe he would be involved in anything criminal. But even she could figure out it was best not to antagonize a goblin. She hoped everything would turn out all right.
The four enjoyed a nice supper at the Flaming Phoenix, a restaurant on another alleyway leading off the square. Everyone turned in early. The next day the Burroughs had to get back to Cauldron Bottom, and Kate and Jessica would travel to Malkin Academy.
They got up early. Actually, Jessica had barely slept at all, she was so excited—and a little bit nervous—about finally seeing Malkin Academy after hearing about it all summer. Kate and Jessica put on their dark gray school uniforms, but left their robes packed away. Kate explained the robes were only for formal occasions, like the start-of-term banquet that evening. Jessica noticed that Kate's cravat was black, not white, although it was covered with white eagle shapes. The four ate breakfast in the Dragon's Head dining room and then went back to their rooms to gather their belongings and get ready to go.
Kate shoved her footlocker back into her magical bag. She offered to carry Jessica's as well but, unfortunately, the girls were only able to get it a third of the way in before it wouldn't go any further.
They didn't have to leave until 3:00 that afternoon. They checked out of their rooms, ate lunch at the Dragon's Head Tavern, took another stroll through Cannular Square, and ended up sitting on a park bench beneath the shadow of Agrippa Wardstone.
They had a little time to spare, so as Jessica sat on the bench she searched the index of Magical Theory for any references to wand-making. Kate was also deep in a huge leather-bound textbook.
At last, they heard the honk of a horn. Looking up from her book, Jessica saw a yellow school bus circling the square and coming to a stop near the tunnel that led to the Muggle city beyond. It seemed like any other school bus Jessica had ever seen, though perhaps a little bit shabbier. The paint was peeling in places, and Jessica noticed it didn't have the extendable arms and stop signs she was used to seeing. It might have been the kind of bus her parents—or even her grandparents—had ridden to school. It did, however, have the words "MALKIN ACADEMY" stenciled in black on its side.
"Almost three," Mr. Burroughs announced. "Time to go, girls."
Mr. Burroughs carried Jessica's footlocker. They were not the only families heading toward the bus. Four or five cars were parked in front of the shops on Cannular Square, from which children and their parents were unloading luggage. A stream of pedestrians entered through the tunnel. Some older kids and their parents simply materialized out of thin air!
The crowds of children and their parents gathered on the sidewalk and spilled into the street. Police wizards in navy robes directed traffic with wands that glowed blue at the tips.
"Well, here we are!" Mr. Burroughs announced. "Kate, be good, and look after Jessica. Jessica, I'm so glad to have met you. I hope you have a wonderful year. Send us an owl if you need a way home for Thanksgiving."
"Thank you, Mr. Burroughs."
"Now, Mrs. Burroughs and I have to get back to Cauldron Bottom. We've already left the store closed longer than we expected. So long!"
There was a flurry of hugs and kisses for both of the girls. Then the Burroughs adults walked back out of the crowd and, turning on the spot, suddenly vanished into thin air with a crack!
"Kate," Jessica said. "Where are the other buses? I only see one."
"What do you mean? There's only this one."
Jessica furrowed her brow and looked again at the lone bus and the crowd of students gathered around it. There must have been at least two hundred of them!
"Come on!" Kate said. "Let's see if we can find Dana."
Kate stepped onto the bus with Jessica right behind her. Jessica couldn't help but stare at the bus driver, a wiry, haggard, snaggle-toothed man with long, greasy hair.
As soon as she turned past him, however, Jessica was absolutely stunned. Instead of the inside of a school bus she expected to see, she was in long, narrow room that looked more like a church fellowship hall set up for games night. There were tables and chairs arranged around one wall, with gaming tables along the other: ping pong, foosball, air hockey, and so forth. Near the back was a refreshment stand, but Jessica could see the bus went back even further. Kate led her past the refreshments to a storage area already packed with dozens of trunks and footlockers. Beyond that were restrooms. At the very back, just to the left of the yellow emergency exit, was a huge wooden wardrobe.
Jessica stacked her footlocker with the others. Kate pulled hers out of her canvas bag and set it beside the rest. Kate went back to the main room, where Dana was just getting on the bus along with an African American girl, whom Kate introduced as Felicia Hyatt. Behind them came a tall, gangly boy, Will Proctor.
Kate and her friends caught up on each other's summers. Dana admitted to having a crush on a boy named Bashari Parris. Felicia had decided to try out for the house Quodpot team this year. Will and his family had vacationed in Louisiana and—he was convinced—had almost been attacked by werewolves ("There's a whole colony of them down there, and I swear some of them escaped!").
Although Jessica was sure they didn't mean to, they somehow didn't seem to include her in the conversation. Eventually she wandered off to the refreshment stand to see what flavors of Fizzbang Soda they had. As nothing looked particularly appetizing—the most promising-sounding flavor was strawberry shortcake—she drifted to one of the tables along the wall.
As crowded as the bus was, Jessica somehow felt alone.
"And they think your dad still has it?" Felicia Hyatt gasped.
"Yeah," Kate said. "Dana's dad must have been great, though. He's shut 'em up—at least for a while. But from what Dad says, the goblins weren't really convinced."
Dana touched Kate's arm. "We think the whole thing stinks," she said. "That's why Mom and Dad wanted to give you all some warning Friday."
"Goblins, Dark magic, the A.T.F.—that's intense!" Will Proctor sighed. "I bet you're glad it's over."
"It's not over, Will. Haven't you been listening!" Kate's eyes blazed blue fire. "The goblins have been trying to get their cup back since before we were born. They're not going to give up. If the A.T.F. won't listen, they'll find somebody who will."
"Kate, if your dad's in trouble," Felicia said, "you know we've got your back. Anything you need, just name it."
"I know. Thanks."
"So," Dana whispered, a twinkle in her eye, "what's the plan? What can we do?"
"First we need to know everything we can about the Cup of Kings. Who made it. Where it is. What it can do. I've already found out a little." Kate reached into her bag and produced a massive leather-bound book called A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot (revised and expanded by Calamus Reed).
"The Cup of Kings is in our History of Magic textbook?" Will said.
"Maybe," Kate answered. "It looks like it." She flipped the pages until she found a section she had bookmarked that morning. "Here, read this." She turned the book around so Will could read it aloud to the others.
In ancient times wizards lived openly among their non-magical neighbors, although Muggles today consider stories of magic and fantastic creatures to be mere fairy tales. Little do they realize that many of the magical persons, creatures, and artifacts they dismiss as superstition are actually based on solid history. Merlin, of course, was a powerful British wizard from the Dark Ages whose name is quite well known in the non-magical world. Muggles are also acquainted with goblins, werewolves, and other magical beings—though their understanding is often laughably inaccurate.
The same goes for various sorts of magical items. Cloaks or helms of invisibility, magical swords, and the like practically litter the landscape of Muggle folk tales. They even appeal to these items to explain their various countries' golden eras. King Arthur was a great British king, they say, because he possessed the sword Excalibur. Or the kings of Persia ruled such a vast empire because of King Jamshid's magical cup.
"You see?" Kate said. "The kings of Persia had a magical cup. The Cup of Kings!"
"I dunno, Kate," Will frowned. "That's not a lot to go on. There's probably a bunch of magical cups. How do we know this is the one the goblins are talking about?"
"For one thing, if Voldemort wanted it, it would have to be famous, right? There aren't that many cups listed in the index—and only one of them mentions ruling a 'vast empire.' That's what Voldemort wanted, wasn't it?"
Will rolled his eyes but Dana leaned in closer.
"We need to know for sure. We'll hit the library as soon as we can. See what else we can learn about this Jamshid guy."
"Count me in," Felicia said.
"I guess," said Will.
"Great. Let me know if y'all find anything," Kate said. As she sat, lost in thought, she realized there was someone else she would like to learn more about. Swirling around in her mind were images not only of her parents, goblins, and magical cups but also that of a beautiful woman with deep, brown eyes.
"Are these seats taken?" A fair-haired girl about Jessica's age had come up beside her. Behind her was a dark-skinned boy who might have been Hispanic or Native American.
"Help yourself," Jessica said.
"I'm Jennifer," the girl said. "Jennifer Brown. And this is James Berry."
"Hi. I'm Jessica Robinson."
"James and I were going to play some Exploding Snap. Would you like to join us?"
"I-I don't know that game. My parents…I mean, I'm not…"
"Oh, Muggle-born, eh?" Jennifer said. "No problem. We can teach you."
"It's not that hard," James added, "just watch your fingers."
"Maybe I could just watch."
"Suit yourself," Jennifer said with a shrug. She pulled a deck of cards from her purse and began to shuffle them. "Where are you from?"
"Kentucky."
"James and I are from Crones Creek, North Carolina."
"I've heard of Crones Creek," Jessica said. "I saw something about it at the museum."
"Probably about the Nunnehi," James said. "But I guess you probably don't know about them. They're powerful magical Beings, but most of them moved west with the Cherokees. Some stayed behind though, just like some of us did. I mean Cherokees. Both my parents are half-Cherokee."
"I see," Jessica said. But she really wasn't in a mood to talk. She worried about S.Q.U.I.D.s and flying broomsticks and stuck up little brats who made her feel stupid and the fact that the only person she knew on the entire bus was two years older than her and had plenty of other friends to visit with and all the things she didn't know about the world of wizards. How was she ever going to keep it all straight?
And what was going to happen with Kate's dad? She noticed Kate and her friends sitting at another table across the way. Kate was obviously filling Dana, Felicia, and Will in on her dad's arrest by the Bureau of Amulets, Talismans, and Fetishes, about the charges the goblins had made against him, and about the mysterious Miles Cowan, who had come back from Canada to accuse Mr. Burroughs of trafficking in Dark magic.
Suddenly a smug, self-assured voice broke her concentration.
"… Of course, I'm hoping to get in Strongfoot. That's my brother's house." Marcus Poole had apparently made a friend. He was walking toward Jessica's table with another boy. They had just bought some snacks at the refreshment stand.
"I'm the first in my family to go to Malkin Academy," the other boy explained. "My family just moved from Indiana."
"You've got to work hard and never give up if you want to be a Strongfoot." He commented sagely. He noticed Jessica sitting there. "But I guess some of us need to just hope for the best," he giggled. "'Something that starts with an M'? Give me a break! Reminds me of another word that starts with M, if you know what I mean…"
Jessica fumed.
She had no idea what Marcus Poole meant.
