The portal didn't feel the way planeswalking did. Her teeth were on edge and her skin itched. There was none of the warmth that filled her chest when she planeswalked.
Dor staggered into the great hall of Hogwarts School of Wizardry. The room was immense. Four long tables stood lengthwise down the room. At the far end, upon a raised dais, was another long table oriented widthwise, the head table. Above her, floated thick, white candles, enough to light the room, and above that the great arched ceiling faded into the pale blue of a morning sky. The room was filled, each long table packed with students in black robes over school uniforms. The head table hosted an eclectic group of men and women in eclectic robes.
Only the few students near her in the center of the hall noticed her. They started, agog. Then a woman at the head table, tall and thin and severe, wearing a pair of square spectacles, stood, and the hall quieted. The woman focused her gaze on Dor and the rest of the great hall did the same.
"How did you gain entrance to this castle?" the thin woman demanded. She had a distinctly British accent and a firm tone to rival Sister Mary Margaret. Her voice filled the room and any hint that anyone might not be paying attention evaporated.
"I... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't mean to. I'm not from here, but I don't mean any harm." Dor clutched her letter nervously. She hesitated to bring it up. She didn't know what it said and still didn't trust Mr. Quillon. The woman fixed her with an intense gaze. The silence of the dining hall hung on that gaze. Dor felt her throat go dry.
"What is your name?"
"Dor... er... Dorothy. Alice Wendy. Dor's cheeks reddened as she stumbled over her own name.
The woman turned her head slightly while keeping her gaze on Dor. "Horace, if you would please, fetch the Sorting Hat."
"Of course, headmistresss," said a large man with a big, bushy moustache. He got up from the table and hurried through a side door near the staff table.
Dor felt her blood run cold. What was the Sorting Hat? Why would it be fetched in this situation? Was she about to be questioned in front of the whole of this school? Was to be punished for intruding?
"If you truly mean us no harm, the Sorting Hat will know," said the woman. "Come sit here, please." Though the headmistress had said please, it was not a request. She withdrew a wand from her pocket and flicked it precisely. A stool popped from thin air and clattered to the floor.
Everyone in the Hogwarts dining hall stared at Dor as she walked down the center aisle of the great hall, her slippered feet silent on the stone floor. She couldn't make out details of the people around her, it was all a blur. She thought she'd pass out for certain. She swallowed hard and stepped up to the head table and sat upon the stool, staring out at the students without really seeing them.
The crowd of students murmured, like wind over the plain. Dor took a slow, deep breath, and felt her shoulders tingle.
It wasn't long before the man with the bushy moustache returned, carrying a dusty, battered old hat. He approached Dor and the headmistress. The old woman gave him a nod, and the Sorting Hat was set upon her head, falling over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
A flurry of images flashed through her mind: her earliest days at the orphanage, learning to read, being scolded for sharing her outlandish imagination, her many, many spankings.
"Hmm... not particularly courageous are you?"
Dor started at the voice of the Sorting Hat in her ear. She griped the stool beneath her. A new set of images flashed before her, the images of her journey thus far, her adventure with Twilight Sparkle, running through alleyways with Jubilee, working to heal the wounded with Minwu, living with the Changs.
"Not very ambitious either. You're smart enough, good imagination, but... but you've a loyal heart, and it will serve you well, Dorothy Alice Wendy."
Aloud, to the gathered, the Sorting Hat shouted "Hufflepuff!" "Let them figure that one out," it muttered smugly just before it was whipped off her head. The assembled students whispered; the susurrus filled the dining hall.
Dor looked up, fearing the Headmistress of Hogwarts would again fix her with a fearsome gaze. Instead, the severe woman's glare was for the Sorting Hat.
"I don't... I'm not..."
"Hush. We'll sort that out later," the woman said quietly. Then she turned to the head table. "Pomona, she's been claimed for Hufflepuff. This is irregular, but not without precedence. It's your house and your decision."
A short, round woman with curly grey hair stood and looked Dor up and down before giving a small smile. "Helga Hufflepuff believed in hospitality for those in need, strangers and friends alike. She welcomed all comers. I'd be remiss if I turned this girl away, especially when the Sorting Hat has made it clear there's a place for her here."
And that settled it.
The short round woman came around the head table and held a hand out to Dor. Dor took it and let the woman lead her to one of the long tables. "I am Professor Pamona Sprout, head of House Hufflepuff and Herbology teacher here at Hogwarts. I get the impression a lot of that won't mean anything to you?"
Dor swallowed hard and shook her head.
"Well, don't worry, dear. We'll get you sorted after breakfast. You look about twelve years old, is that right?"
"Um... actually..."
Professor Sprout turned her attention to the students at a nearby table. "Isabel, would you take Dorothy to the second years' room in Hufflepuff basement after breakfast? The house elves will already be setting up her bed and uniforms. Then take her to the library please." She looked at Dor. "I'll meet with you there, dear."
A dark-skinned girl whose hair was so crinkly it poofed from her head moved aside to make room for her. Dor sat, as nervous about joining a bunch of kids she'd never met a she'd been about facing down a gang of firebenders.
"I'm Isabel Thatcher. This is Aelf Erin and Sandra Morales." Isabel held her hand out and Dor took it firmly.
Aelf Erin was a blonde with bright blue eyes and a scattering of freckles to match Dor's. Sandra Morales was a brunette girl with large brown eyes and dimples. Both shook Dor's hand heartily.
"We're the second year girls of Hufflepuff. Didn't expect to gain a fourth," Sandra said.
"Are you friendly?" Aelf asked, her voice high and lilting. "I was go glad when Isabel and Sandy turned out to be so nice."
Dor didn't know how to respond, but Isabel intervened. "I'm sure she's friendly. The Sorting Hat wouldn't have put her in Hufflepuff if she wasn't friendly."
"Where do you come from?" Sandra asked, wide eyes genuinely curious. "You sound American. I've never heard of an American attending Hogwarts before."
"Are you Muggle born?" asked someone else at the table.
"Did you get a letter?"
"Can you already do magic?"
More and more of the students at the Hufflepuff table leaned in, asking questions and waiting for answers.
Isabel stood up, standing on the bench. "All right, that's enough. She hasn't even had breakfast and you know how seriously we Hufflpuffs take our breakfast. Leave her alone. There'll be plenty of time to pester Dorothy with questions at dinner." She winked down at Dor who smiled, grateful. And to Dor's surprise the other Hufflepuff students left her be.
Isabel plopped back on her seat. "You hungry, Dorothy?"
Dor nodded and looked at the food presented on the table. There was pitchers of orange juice and chilled milk, pots of tea and coffee. There were steaming rolls and still-sizzling bacon and piles of scrambled eggs. There were pots of butter and jam and jelly.
"You can call me Dor, if you like." Dor said as she poured herself a cup of coffee and took a helping of bacon and eggs. Back at St. Bridget's bacon was a precious commodity hoarded by the sisters. The food was nothing like what she'd had at the Changs, but the wealth of it, and the easy comradery of the Hufflepuff table, made her teary-eyed. She took a deep breath over her coffee before having a sip.
Dor examined the students around her as the babble of conversation washed over her and the food filled her. There were all kinds of people here, of all shapes and colors, all talking and eating and laughing together. The orphans and sisters at St. Bridget's had all been of fair European stock. Dor hadn't even thought about how she must have stood out with the Changs or even in the military camp in Ivalice. Here she only stood out thanks to her beige clothes among the black robes, a dusty dove among corbies.
The Hufflepuffs wore charcoal grey vests with black and yellow trim over white shirts and black and yellow ties all under a black robe with yellow lining and the Hufflepuff crest, a badger, on the left breast.
After breakfast, Isabel took her hand and led her from the great hall, Aelf and Sandra following close behind like an honor guard. They passed through the entry hall and down a set of twisting hallways, along which were framed paintings and, to Dor's amazement, the beings depicted were moving about. Dor would have stayed to gawk, but Isabel led her to a set of stairs leading down two flights to a basement, fronted by a round door with a central doorknob. The common room put her in mind of the coziest home she'd ever read of. There were large, cushiony chairs and couches, an eclectic array of tables and desks, bookshelves and hanging plants, thick rugs and tapestries. One corner was home to a set of bookshelves overflowing with books.
Down a wood-paneled hallway lit with burnished copper lanterns, Isabel pushed open a door with a carved wooden plaque reading "Second-Years". Inside was a cozy room with two four-poster beds on the left and two on the right, each accompanied by their own freestanding wardrobes. At the foot of the room was a large fireplace with a polished, carved wooden mantel piece. A round table stood in the center of the room holding a pot with a nice smelling flowery plant at its center.
"There's already a fourth bed," Aelf said with quiet delight.
"House elves are extraordinarily good at their jobs," said Sandra.
"What are house elves?" Dor asked.
All three girls gave her a funny look.
"You muggle born?" Sandra asked.
"It's okay if you are," said Aelf.
"Uh..." Dor shrugged. "I'm an orphan."
"There will be time for explanations later," said Isabel. "Let's get you to the library so we can get to class. Change into your uniform so we can get going."
Dor opened the wardrobe and found it filled with Hogwarts school uniforms in her size, complete with black and yellow ties and scarves and socks and brassieres and elastic-waisted drawers: black with yellow trim and yellow with black. There was even a pale yellow nightie.
Dor changed quickly. She wasn't terribly comfortable taking off her underwear in front of a trio of girls she'd never met, but neither did she want to keep wearing those given to her by Mr. Quillon. She dressed in the school uniform and felt more at ease, but when she got to the tie, she was stymied.
"Here," said Isabel. She took the tie, looped it over Dor's head and tied it for her. "Do you prefer it loose or tight?"
"Loose, please."
When she pulled on the black robe with the Hufflepuff crest, the girls led her out of the basement and to a massive stairwell packed with moving paintings.
"You'll have to watch out for the stairs," said Isabel. "They change without warning."
"I'm already lost," said Dor. "How will I ever find my way around?"
"You'll get used to it," said Sandra.
They got her to the library where Professor Sprout was already waiting for her.
"Good luck," said Sandra.
"You'll be fine," Aelf said.
"Professor Sprout is one of the nicest professors here," Isabel said. "But Madam Pince can be a bit..."
"Mean?" said Aelf.
"Bitchy," said Sandra.
"Intense," said Isabel, shooting Sandra a look. Sandra blushed.
The girls left and Dor went to where Professor Sprout stood talking with a tall, thin woman with a large, hooked nose and papery skin.
Dor only barely noticed. She was struck by the library.
The library at St. Bridget's had been a single room with a desk, chair, and two bookshelves. There had been fifty-three books last time she'd counted. This library was immense. It stretched as far as she could see, almost as though the twists and turns of the shelving was larger than could reasonably be held by a room in the castle. Compared to the Infinite Library, the library at Hogwarts, while neat and orderly, was much more homey. The Infinite Library had seemed sterile and bland and lifeless. This library felt lived in and used, if meticulous. She felt at ease here, rather than on edge.
"Here she is. Dorothy, this is Madam Pince, the Hogwarts librarian."
Dor brought her attention to the two women.
Madam Pince fixed Dor with a judging look.
"Let's find a place to sit and you can tell us what brings you to Hogwarts."
"My office?" Madam Pince suggested, her voice thin but hard. Madam Pince led them to a small room off the entry of the library. It was a square room with a half wall on one side so as to allow her to see into the library. Her desk stood at the door, making an L with the half wall and was as meticulous as the rest of the library. Every bit of wall space was covered in bookshelves and stuffed with books, except for one which held neatly ordered items: pots of glue and ink, brushes and quills, brightly colored ribbons and other items she was unfamiliar with.
Madam Pince sat in her desk chair while offering a pair of high-backed well-cushioned chairs Dor would have loved to curl up in to read late into a night. As she sat, Dor could not help but notice, leaning in a corner behind Madam Pince's desk, was a long-handled, wooden paddle. The sight of it made her chest clench and she had to force herself to take a deep breath.
"All right now, dear," said Professor Sprout. "If you would please, tell us who you are, where you're from, and why you're here."
Dor considered. She'd been sent here to research Ravenclaw's Diadem so Mr. Quillon could steal it from a parallel plane of existence. It seemed a poor way to make her introduction. Instead she decided to start at the beginning. She told them briefly of the orphanage, of Elmira Gulch, and of falling off the roof. She told them of Equestria and described the diadem.
Madam Pince scoffed. "That's impossible."
"Which part?" said Professor Sprout. "The part about traveling through planes of existence, or part about the talking purple unicorn?"
"The part about the diadem, Pamona," said Madam Pince, unappreciative of the other woman's light tone. "We're now all well aware what happened to that particular item."
"Yes," said Dor, earning a stern look from Madam Pince and a small smile from Professor Sprout. "I'm getting to that." She told them of New York City, Jubilee, and Elmira's pursuit. She told them of Ivalice and the War of the Lions. She told them of Republic City and the Agni Kai and the Chang family. Finally she told them of the Infinite Library, parallel planes of existence, and Mr. Quillon's request. She pulled the letter, now well crinkled, from the inside pocket of her new Hogwarts robes and handed it to Madam Pince.
"I don't know what it says. He said it was for you, that you would understand. But, I'm not interested in helping Mr. Quillon getting his hands on any version of the diadem. I don't know what he'd do with it. Perhaps he's just a collector, but..." she shuddered.
Professor Sprout cleared her throat. "In my experience, dear, it's best to trust your instincts about some people. You may not always know why you have misgivings, and you should always allow them to prove you wrong if they can, but oftentimes those initial feelings are spot on."
Madam Pince took the letter from Dor and placed it on her desk. She opened a desk drawer, removed a thin, straight wand, and a pair of smoky-lensed spectacles with golden rims. She put the glasses on and tapped the paper with her wand. The folded paper smoked faintly and crackled with electricity. Madam Pince tapped the paper again, hurriedly, and it stopped. She looked over her glasses at Professor Sprout.
"Pamona, this letter has been enchanted with a jinx. Shall I destroy it or read it?"
"Did this Mr. Quillon seem a persistent man to you?" Professor Sprout asked Dor.
"He sent Elmira to chase after me on three different planes of existence. Seems persistent to me."
Professor Sprout nodded. "If you're willing, Irma, I'd like to be able to tell the headmistress what's going on."
Holding the paper so neither Dor nor Professor Sprout could see the writing, Madam Pince unfolded it, skimmed it, and folded it again. She then withdrew a wooden box from her desk, put the paper inside, closed the lid and tapped it with her wand. The seam flashed white. Madam Pince took off the spectacles.
"The letter is simple enough. It is addressed to me by name. Mr. Silas Quilon requests I assist you in a research project, assuming I will help as we're both librarians. The jinx is coercive. It's meant to compel any who reads it to do as it says."
"I didn't know," said Dor. "Honestly."
Madam Pince looked at Professor Sprout skeptically.
"The Sorting Hat would not have put her in Hufflepuff if she weren't honest."
"A fair point," said Madam Pince. "So, what then, shall we do with her?"
Professor Sprout looked at Dor. "Your name is not in the book, which means you're not technically a Hogwarts student. But the Sorting Hat claimed you for Hufflepuff which mean you are, technically, a student. It is rare, but not unprecedented. And precedent dictates an independent study, which is why I asked you to meet here in the library."
Dor had never thought she'd go to school, and the idea appealed to her. Especially a magical school where the paintings and staircases moved, and the meals were feats, and the other girls were kind. Going to school in a magical castle was a dream come true.
"I'd be thrilled to. Ecstatic. Overjoyed." said Dor.
"And what would you study?" asked Madam Pince. "I'll not have you wandering aimlessly about my library."
Dor considered. The opportunity to study whatever she wanted was daunting. She considered what she wanted most in the multiverse: to see her friends again, to tell them she'd not abandoned them. To see Kya again. To ask if, perhaps, she could have another kiss.
"I'm not very good at planeswalking," Dor said. "If it would be all right, I'd like very much to study that: the nature of the multiverse and how one might travel through it with purpose."
Madam Pince pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well now. That sounds interesting indeed. Very well, I accept your premise for independent study and will guide you in your research. As proof of you study, you'll need to write a term paper."
"What's a term paper?"
"An essay explaining what you've learned and what conclusions, if any, you've come to, due at the end of the term. I can teach you how to write it."
Dor smiled and nodded. "Thank you."
"You're quite welcome, Ms... I'm sorry, I don't believe I've heard your last name."
Dor blushed and looked away. "I'm an orphan. I don't have a last name." She cleared her throat, embarrassed.
"There's no reason to be ashamed, young lady," said Madam Pince, her stern voice taking an edge of softness. "As a matter of fact, in this regard, I consider you most fortunate."
"To not have a last name?" said Dor.
"Indeed. It means you have the opportunity to choose whatever last name you feel suits you. Few have such an opportunity."
Dor's eyes widened. Madam Pince was right. There was nothing and no one preventing her from choosing a last name. It was worth considering.
There were study rooms scattered throughout the library. Madam Pince took her to one at what seemed to be the very back of the library.
"I have found this one to have the least amount of distractions," Madam Pince said, opening the door.
With a flick of her wrist, Madam Pince lit the lanterns on the wall. The room was paneled in dark wood. The room was still dim, but it was close and inviting. In the center of the room was a square table and a pair of simple chairs. In one corner was a high-backed, cushioned chair suitable for curling up in and reading for hours at a time. Against one wall was an empty book case. It reminded her strongly of the room she and Twilight had used, of the room in her mind.
Madam Pince looked at her. "Unless you prefer something else?
"No. No, it's perfect"
"Have you any supplies?" Madam Pince asked.
"None."
"Well then, we'll need to fetch some."
After several trips back and forth, the table was stacked with sheets of paper, pots of ink, and quills. Dor had never written with a quill before. At the orphanage they used charcoal pencils when they were afforded writing utensils at all.
"What about a wand?" asked Madam Pince. "I should have thought to ask earlier."
Dor shook her head. "Do I need one for research?"
"Perhaps. Is wandless magic common where you come from?"
"Until recently I'd have said magic doesn't exist at all where I come from. But the places I've been, no one used a wand. Minwu used a staff once for a particularly powerful and important spell."
"It would be interesting to see if you can use a wand," said Madam Pince. "Perhaps I'll arrange it."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of students moving through the halls.
"I suppose it's time for lunch," said Madam Pince. "Follow the crowds and you'll find your way to the great hall. I will see you afterward."
Dor attached herself to the back of a group of students who paid her no mind and followed them to the great hall. There she spied Aelf and Sandra and Isabel. They waved her over and she joined them.
"So how was it?" asked Sandra.
"Are you staying?" asked Aelf.
Dor nodded. "I'll be doing an independent study with Madam Pince."
Sandra hissed in sympathy. "Tough break, girl."
"No," said Dor. "It's... I mean, I understand, she seems pretty strict, but I'll get to spend all day in the library doing research."
And that's a good thing?" said Sandra.
"I love to read and I never thought I'd get to go to school, so... yes."
Sandra chuckled and shook her head.
"So what did you guys do?" Dor asked.
"Transfiguration first off, then potions." Said Isabel.
"Professor Slughorn's so funny," said Aelf. "Today we made burping potions."
Lunch arrived then, appearing upon the long table as though by magic. Which it was, Dor reminded herself. There were cold sandwiches and hot soup, chopped vegetables and rolls, pitchers of lemonade and milk. Dor passed a companionable lunch with the three Hufflepuff second years, then asked them to show her back to the library.
When she returned, Madam Pince was scolding a group of older students in red and gold ties about bringing food into the library. The students winced and made for the exit. Madam Pince's voice was shrill and hard. Dor edged past as Madam Pince shooed them from the library like an angry vulture. Dor hurried back to the study room. The lanterns ignited when she entered. She found there a trio of books stacked upon the table. Theories of the Multiverse by Starswirl the Bearded, Quantum Physics and Parallel Worlds, by Reed Richards, Ph.D, and Considering L-Space by the Librarian of Unseen University, transcribed by Ponder Stibbons.
Dor picked up Theories of the Multiverse, sat in the cushioned chair, kicked off her shoes, and made herself comfortable. She opened to the first page and began to read.
After dinner, Dor followed the girls to the Hufflepuff basement. The common room was full, students ranging in age from eleven to seventeen lounged about in the chairs, reading, studying, chatting, playing chess. Dor had never been interested in gossiping with the other girls at St. Bridget's Orphanage—who'd gotten a pat on the head from a sister, who'd gotten her bottom smacked, who was acting like a stuck up prig—but this seemed nice.
"Care for some hot chocolate before bed?" Isabel asked. "Johnny Boulder is perfecting his recipes."
"Hot chocolate? That sounds... decadent."
Aelf smiled wide. "It is."
The tall, broad boy with the round face smiled as the four of them approached where he sat by the common room fireplace. "Ah, my favorite customers. And you've brought a friend." He had removed his tie and vest and wore his white button up shirt tucked into his fleecy, loose black pants with yellow badgers marching across them. He turned to a pot he was tending near the fireplace. With his wand he stirred the pot, then withdrew a ladle and poured thick brown liquid into four mismatched ceramic mugs.
"I've put a bit of cinnamon into this one," Johnny said.
Dor put her face close to the sweet, hot liquid and breathed deeply. She'd never had chocolate before, but she'd read about it and it sounded wonderful. The scent tickled her nose with a hint of cinnamon before coating her expectations in warm, soft, comfort. She took a sip and decided hot chocolate was better than coffee, at least after a long day of research, sitting next to the fire.
"This is... I can't even... You're extraordinary, Mr. Boulder," Dor said, tears at the edge of her voice. "I've never tasted anything like this. Never. This is a rare joy and I thank you for sharing it with me."
Johnny blinked, taken aback. He swallowed and blushed. "It's just hot chocolate."
"It's exquisite," said Dor.
He cleared his throat roughly.
Isabel sat on a couch near the fire, sipping her hot chocolate. She patted the spot next to her. "Dor, have a seat?" Dor sat next to her and Aelf sat on her other side. Sandra sat on the couch arm beside Isabel. "Now, it's time to tell us about your adventure," said Isabel.
Dor hunched her shoulders. "I wouldn't call it an adventure. It's been harrowing."
"Adventures rarely feel like it at the time," said Sandra. "It's only in looking back, sitting by a fire with a warm drink, that the stories can be told with any sort of fondness."
"With friends," added Isabel. "We're all Hufflepuffs here, nobody's going to laugh at you or call you a liar. But if you're not ready, no body's going to think ill of you for it."
Dor contemplated her cup of hot chocolate. She barely knew these girls. She barely knew this place. But so far she'd managed to make friends across the multiverse by being honest.
"An adventure. Well, I do like telling stories. The difference with this one is it's real, and it happened to me. Though I'd never have believed it if you'd told me that a month ago." She took another sip of her hot chocolate and let it coat her insides like a thick quilt.
"My name is Dorothy Alice Wendy and I am an orphan." She'd told this story a few times now, but this time she spared no detail. She hadn't told Professor Sprout and Madam Pince about the spankings. She hadn't told them how it had felt to live at the orphanage, to feel stories bursting in her head, to dream every night of the fantastic, and never be able to share it lest she be punished. She hadn't told them how afraid she was when Elmira Gulch had discovered her outside the window, when she'd fallen off the roof. She hadn't told them how vulnerable she'd felt appearing in a dark, magical wood in nothing but her nightie. She hadn't described the feeling of warmth at making a friend in Twilight Sparkle. This time, when she told her story, it was not perfunctory, it was not with fear they'd think her delusional. It was instead an expression of herself.
When she finished her hot chocolate, Johnny refilled it. When she got teary-eyed describing how she'd abandoned Jubilee, Isabel rubbed her back. When she described her tiny corner of the War of the Lions, Aelf shed a single tear. And when she at last told them of the Changs and how she'd thought she'd found a place she might stay a while, she realized the Hufflepuff common room had gone silent but for her.
Finally she told them of Mr. Quillon and the Infinite library and how the whole place had made her feel on edge. "And now I'm here," said Dor. "A planeswalker who doesn't know how to planeswalk. Given a task I don't want to pursue. I appreciate everything everyone here has done for me. Especially when there was no reason to trust me. I feel safe here."
"You are safe here," said Sandra. "You're one of us, now and forever. And if that Gulch girl or the creepy collector come here looking for you, they'll find how Hufflepuffs protect their friends."
A murmur of ascent filled the common room. Dor looked up from her hot chocolate to see everyone's eyes on her. She blushed and tried to sink into the couch.
Johnny stood up and clapped his hands gently. "All right, everybody. We've had our story. It's time we were off to bed. We've all got class in the morning."
