I've had to do a lot of scribbling of background ideas for this chapter, because although it's still just the first day (still!) and not much is revealed, I need to know what's going on! There'll be no coming back and doing rewrites once it's posted! So, interesting ideas have occurred and hopefully they'll keep occuring…

Enjoy the chapter.

Sally

Chapter 3

Kolya had had his turn, mounting the platform and sitting in the Ancient chair. Scattered monochrome images had appeared above his head followed by a golden bow and nocked arrow on a blue ground - the emblem of Merlin House. This made John more than ever determined to force the chair to sort him into Athar, so that then maybe he could avoid another confrontation. Not that he didn't think he could take the guy down. Because, yes, Kolya looked pretty strong for an eleven-year-old, but John had learned a fair selection of dirty tricks in his time and he wasn't afraid to use them. Bullies like Kolya, however, were almost always surrounded by a gang, and that could be a problem.

"McKay, Meredith!"

"Oh for the love of -" Rodney gave a teeth-gritted growl of fury.

Professor Weir scanned the faces in the crowd and called out again. "Meredith McKay?"

Rodney squared his shoulders. "Right then, ridicule here I come." His chin tipped up and he marched smartly up to the platform, bounced up the steps and stood in front of Professor Weir, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

The inevitable storm of giggling broke out and some unimaginative cat-calls. "Ooh, Meredith!"

"It's Rodney," he announced to the professor. "My name is Rodney McKay."

Professor Weir looked down at her list. "Oh. I'm sorry. I'll change that for you."

He turned away to sit down in the chair, but John caught his furiously muttered words. "Yes, well, the damage is done now, isn't it?"

The chair flung back abruptly and glowed with bright inner fire. Rodney frowned direfully up at the ceiling and a model of the solar system burst into life, perfect in its clarity, each planet meticulously labelled with its name, diameter, composition and length of solar orbit in terms of Earth days. "Thank you, that's enough." Rodney snapped his fingers in the air and the planets disappeared to be smartly replaced by the emblem of Athar House. "Hmph."

He snorted in grudging acknowledgement, then sat up, the image cut out and the chair darkened to stillness once more.

"Very efficient, Rodney," said Professor Weir.

John heard no jeering mixed within the cheers of Athar house as Rodney joined them. His friend had made his point and his mark.

What would happen when it was John's turn? Could he get the chair to do what he wanted? What if it put him in one of the other houses - even in Merlin with stupid Acastus stupid Kolya. Nobody had laughed at his name. They wouldn't dare.

There were only a few children left around him. John pulled the sleeves of his shirt down to cover his goosebumping arms. His heart was too high in his chest and he couldn't breathe properly.

"Sheppard, John!"

Excited chatter rose like a wave and carried him across to the platform and up the steps. John stood before the chair, the great arching ring of the Stargate in shadow behind it. What did that thing even do? A Stargate? Was it some kind of telescope?

"Sit down, John."

The chair was still and dark, but it called to him. It called to him with the buzzing that was becoming familiar now. He thought it had gone when the Jumper switched off, but it had been building all the time in the back of his mind, larger than the sensation of the little ship, much larger - a huge, diffuse presence that ran through his head and down his arms and spine and right into the fabric of his innermost self. John couldn't have walked away even if he'd wanted to. But who would be in control here? Him or this weird chair?

Me, thought John, who had been in control of very little in his life. Me. I'm in control. You're going to put me in Athar right the hell now and no messing!

He sat down. The chair instantly blazed with blue fire, the crest of Athar burst into existence and shone like a red jewel above him and as John's heart leapt in triumph, images tumbled into his head and replaced the crest, spreading themselves across his vision in a glorious technicolour array. An image of the solar system widened out to encompass the whole galaxy and he knew that the dots which littered the image were Stargates and that they held the key to travel over unimaginable distances. The questions about alien life that leapt to his mind were eagerly answered by a flickering run of creatures, some recognisably humanoid, others with reptilian appearance or insect-like or even the classic little men with huge eyes and slender bodies, which here were grey rather than the expected green.

John longed to fly between the stars in a ship under his command and he longed to step through the rippling pool that hung suspended in ghostly form above him.

To travel to alien worlds in no more than a step! That it was possible was staggering, and that it might even be possible for a boy who, just this morning had been without friend or family or much in the way of hope for a bright future, was utterly, heart-tearingly wonderful.

John gripped the soft pads on the arms of the chair and clamped his jaw tightly closed and threw his heart into this amazing place as if he were playing the greatest Hail Mary ever.

And, with a great whining, grinding vibration that shook the walls, and blue fire that flickered around the corner of his vision, Atlantis responded.

This was amazing. What else would it show him?

"John, get out of the chair!"

Someone was tugging at his hand. There were screams and people running. Shouts came from the upper level, where most of the Professors had disappeared from the railing.

"John!" He was jerked out of the chair, stumbled across the platform and fell in a heap.

The whining stopped. The floor was still and smooth beneath John's body. Waves of power ebbed from his mind.

Someone was squatting next to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Think so." He sat up. The faces in the crowd were solemn. Nobody was cheering. Not even Athar House. "What was that?"

Professor Weir held out a hand and hauled him to his feet. "That, John Sheppard, was the Stargate dialling out."

"Oh. Huh. Is that bad?"

A voice snapped from the crowd. "It is if you don't want to be instantly vaporized by the event horizon!" Rodney beckoned to him. "Get down from there, Sheppard! The sorting's not over yet and I'm hungry!"

oOo

All was well, as Teyla had said it would be, although, she reflected, the sorting had not been without incident. She gripped the hands of her new friends more tightly as if she could keep them out of trouble, which was probably impossible. John and Rodney seemed the type of boys who attracted trouble. But whereas John would probably agree wholeheartedly with that assessment, Rodney would protest and then get into trouble anyway. Her time at Atlantis was going to be full of excitement.

Jinto and Wex had told her many tales of the legendary start-of-term feast and Teyla's stomach gurgled in anticipation. She knew the feast took place in the Mess Hall and hoped that wasn't far. But first… ah, yes, here came the Head of Atlantis Academy.

The lean, grey-haired man jogged athletically down the steps from the mezzanine and strode across the platform to stand next to the chair. He glanced down at it and gave it an affectionate pat on one arm. Blue light flickered and then died.

"For those of you that don't know who I am," he began, "the name's O'Neill (two els). And unlikely though it may seem, I'm the Head of this fine establishment!" He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up. "So, welcome one and all! Even those of you who nearly blew us up with an Ancient drone or vaporized us with the event horizon!" He grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Looks like we're set for some interesting times!" His face became serious, but Teyla could see the sparkle in his eyes. "We're gonna need bravery, integrity… er… camaraderie… all that kind of thing." The impish grin awoke once more. "But above all, we're gonna need… cake! To the Mess Hall!"

Cheers and laughter broke out and staff and older students began marshalling the lively crowd down the stairs or into the nearby transporters, where a long queue formed.

Rodney's hand twitched in Teyla's. "Stairs," he said decisively. "By the time that lot get transported all the good stuff will be gone."

"Come on, then," said John. "Race you!"

They ran.

The communal meals at Athos House could be lively, but Teyla was unprepared for the roar of sound that filled the Mess Hall as the hundreds of students crowded around four long tables draped with cloths in their house colours. Jinto had told her that one of the best start-of-term traditions, apart from the huge quantity and variety of food, was that the staff acted as waiters, serving the students with friendly informality, but Teyla was still surprised when Professor O'Neill reached over the table and began cutting huge slices of a chocolate cake and passing them around. He held one out to her.

"I haven't had any of the meat or vegetables yet, Professor," she said.

The cake hovered. "Your point being…?"

Teyla took the cake. He winked at her. "My family motto - 'life's too short not to eat the cake first.'" He frowned. "Or was it, 'never run with scissors?'" He shook his head and continued down the table, distributing cake.

"Wow," said John, sitting on Teyla's right. "Crazy guy."

"Good advice," said Rodney, to her left, his mouth full of cake.

A huge platter of fries descended majestically in front of them.

Jinto, sitting opposite, scooped large handfuls onto his and Wex's plates. "Thank you Professor Teal'c."

The platter remained motionless. Teyla turned around and looked up and up and still further up into the serene countenance of a gigantic black man, clad in a flowing, carefully draped robe. "You must partake of these fried strips of potato," he said, "which are most delicious."

"Is that a recommendation or a threat?" muttered Rodney.

The solemn gaze transferred itself to Rodney but the Professor didn't speak.

"Thank you, Professor." Teyla helped herself and her friends to fries and the platter ascended and was borne away.

"Hey, Jinto!" John called across the table. "What does that guy teach?"

"Professor Teal'c teaches meditation," replied Jinto, spearing two sausages at once with his fork.

"Oh."

"And martial arts."

"Oh!"

"Excuse me." Carson Beckett, sitting to John's right, gestured at the water jug. "Could you pass the water, please?"

Teyla passed it to John who passed it to Carson, who poured some water into an empty bowl, spilling a significant amount on the cloth. He set down the jug and placed a few salad leaves, a chunk of cucumber and a small piece of chicken around the edge of the bowl. "Perfect," he said, then reached into his pocket. He released the small, wriggling turtle into the water where it splashed around the bowl a few times and then settled to eat the lettuce.

oOo

If they ate like this every day, Rodney thought, or even half this well, then he was going to be pretty satisfied. And, so far, there'd been neither hide nor hair of citrus. Perhaps his multiple, lengthy emails explaining the seriousness of his allergy had, well, not borne fruit, but caused said fruit to be locked firmly away. Although that did look suspiciously like a lemon meringue pie leering at him from one of the Merlin tables.

Rodney took a slice of pizza and leant further forward over the table so that he wouldn't drip grease on his new jacket. He glanced down, still puzzling over the broad patches of burgundy which, before he had stepped into the chair, had been grey like the rest of his jacket. When had they changed? And what technology was used to change them? Some kind of micro-crystal, resonating at a certain frequency to produce the correct house colour? He'd have to find out.

Carson was cooing at his 'wee turtle.'

"Hey!" Rodney leant around Teyla. "Why did you bring that thing?"

"Hamish isn't a thing." The boy picked up the turtle and held it protectively. "He's a red-eared slider turtle. And I couldn't leave him behind. He'd have been lonely - pined away without me!"

"He'd have been better off pining away than being stuffed in your pocket."

"Trachemys scripta elegans," said a soft, contemplative voice. "Bread roll?"

Rodney took a roll from the basket. Teyla hesitated, then reached forward. Her hand shook slightly and there was a hint of a breathy tremor in her whispered thanks. Probably the chocolate cake sitting uneasily. She should have given her piece to him; he could have dealt with several more without a hint of indigestion. The basket floated away. Rodney wasn't particularly interested in its bearer - he'd lost track of all the staff and was always hopeless at names anyway.

"Jinto? Jinto! Who was that?"

"Teyla Emmagan, not you too!" Jinto nudged his friend and rolled his eyes.

"I do not know what you mean." Teyla's cheeks were stained red.

"That," grinned Jinto, "was Professor Jackson, who all the girls swoon over. And you too!"

"Well I'm impressed," said Carson. "He knew Hamish's full Latin name. What does he teach?"

"Ancient," said Wex. "The Ancient language. And other languages if you keep studying with him past third year. And history."

"Let me guess," said Rodney, waving a chunk of bread roll. "The female cohort are pretty keen on all things linguistic and historical?" Girls. Huh. Couldn't keep their minds on important academic matters.

"Oh what a sweet little turtle! Look at this, Professor Brown."

"Oh, my, how pretty! Red-eared slider, am I right?"

Rodney gulped and didn't hear a word of Carson's answer. His eyes drank in the two most beautiful visions he'd ever beheld, with the possible exception of the primary laws of math and physics, and he didn't think anyone or anything would ever beat those. Although…

"You shouldn't really have him here, though, should you?" The blonde vision spoke, her hair shining, her cornflower-blue eyes, framed with long, long lashes, beguiling Rodney's heart and entrancing his mind. Had he just sighed? She looked at him and smiled. Actually smiled.

"And that's not really the best diet for him, is it?" The auburn-haired beauty's voice was so soft, so gentle.

Rodney gulped some water. The cup rattled against his teeth and some of the water burbled out and ran down his chin.

"Could you accommodate a turtle in the biology labs, Professor Brown?"

What was her name? The golden vision should have a wonderful name!

"I think so, Professor Carter. I've got a few spare tanks."

Professor Carter! What did she teach? He'd study it with the intensity of a solar flare! Let it be physics or math, please!

"Oh, but…"

"It's Carson, isn't it?" Professor Brown leant over the table so that Rodney could nearly see down her… No, look away, look away! "Well, I'm sure you want what's best for…"

"Hamish."

"I'm sure you want what's best for Hamish, don't you? And you can visit him every day."

Carson emitted a sadly agreeing whimper. The Professors drifted away.

"Rodney. Rodney, are you well?"

"What's up, McKay? Too much cake?" John leant round Teyla. He had a smear of chocolate on his chin.

"Yes. Yes, definitely. Too much cake," said Rodney.

oOo

John was drunk; drunk on rich food and friendship and wonder. He felt his face grinning so that his cheeks ached and he could do nothing about it and didn't want to. He bashed his water cup against Carson's and then leant across the table and did the same with Jinto and then Wex, spilling as much as he drank and calling out "Cheers!" and "Happy Sorting Day!" and whatever other salutation occurred to him.

Then he turned to Teyla and Rodney. Rodney was staring into space, picking at the remains of his pizza. Teyla was rubbing a small spot between her eyebrows. She shivered.

"Hey, what's up, guys? Aren't you having fun?"

"What?" Rodney jumped. "Oh, yes, fun."

"Teyla?"

"I am a little cold. Can you feel a draft?"

John had taken off his button-down shirt and tied it round his waist. He was pretty sure his face was glowing like a beacon. "No. Are you okay?"

"Perhaps I am just tired."

There was a hard shove between John's shoulder blades. "Hey!"

"Sorry!"

"Daniel!

"Sorry! Look, let me…"

"No! Ow, dammit, Daniel."

There was another shove and something brushed against John's shoe. He turned around to see Dr Jackson's bent back beneath his eye level and Professor O'Neill picking himself up from the floor. Jacket potatoes rolled under the tables and other professors had rushed to help.

"Sorry, can I just…"

John edged to one side as Dr Jackson ducked beneath the bench to retrieve the escapees.

He'd pressed closer to Teyla and could feel her shaking.

"Can I be of assistance?" A sibilant voice spoke from above Jinto and Wex. Another Professor? He'd never keep track of them all. Oh. Yes. Yes, he would. He really, really would.

"No!" Professor Jackson was still under the table. "It's okay, Professor Theodorus, I've got this!"

The tall man (was he a man?) inclined his angular head and moved away - tall, white-haired, green-skinned, yellow-eyed, with an air of power and stealth and grace that made John want to scramble up from the table and run away as fast as he could, while at the same time totally fascinating him. He couldn't help wondering what might happen to someone who messed around in this teacher's lessons.

"First sight of a Wraith?"

"What? Sorry?"

"He's a Wraith," said Wex, cheerfully. "An Amica Wraith, lucky for us - one of that lot who made friends with the Ancients."

"Ha, yeah," said Jinto. "I'm a Dark Wraith! He drew back his hand and slapped it onto his friend's chest. Wex contorted his face and made choking sounds.

"What the hell?"

"They're the good guys, right?" Rodney's eyes were fixed nervously on the distant Wraith. "Not the ones who... you know." He waved a hand at the two boys opposite. Wex was now snarling and his hand was planted firmly on his struggling friend's chest, his fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket.

"Yeah," said Wex. "Todd's okay."

"Todd?" John asked. What were they doing? It looked like Wex was pretending to hurt his friend, just by putting his hand on his chest.

"That's what we call Professor Theodorus. Not to his face, though."

"No. No way!" Jinto drew back his hand again.

John's hand went to his own chest. Bitter acid flooded his throat. Why had he eaten so much? And why had he let himself relax, when horror and darkness lurked beneath the shining surface of this newly-discovered world?

"Jinto!" Teyla's voice was hard and sharp. "Do not pretend! It is not funny!"

"Oh, er, yeah, sorry Teyla."

"Sorry, Teyla," said Wex.

"You should apologise to John too! And to many others here, if they knew that you were making light of such things!"

"Sorry, John."

"Yeah, sorry. I forgot."

John was glad Teyla's glare and her anger weren't directed at him. He rubbed his chest where the scars were - the scars he'd borne since he was a baby. "I wish someone'd tell me what the hell's going on," he said.

Teyla placed both hands carefully on the table and stared down at them. "I told you of the Queen of the Dark Wraith," she said, quietly.

"Yeah. You said she killed my Mom and Dad." He guessed it must be true. So much else that was impossible had been true today.

"The Dark Wraith are also known as the Vorators, that is, those who devour. Their queen tried to kill you. And she killed my parents. Or her followers did."

"She…?" John's heart pounded beneath his flattened palm.

What happened when someone was killed that way, the grasping hand thrust hard against the breastbone of the struggling victim? How did they die? Was it painful? Maybe John didn't want to know. They'd told him it'd been his car seat, that the scars had been caused by the harness when they'd crashed. He hadn't died, though. But his parents had, and Teyla's family were gone too.

"Teyla, I'm sorry, I didn't know." He glanced at Jinto and Wex and, if they hadn't been acting suitably shamefaced he might have been tempted to see to it that they did.

"You will learn in Professor Jackson's class about the Ancients and the Wraith and their long history," said Teyla, wearily. "You will learn about the war and the split between the Vorators and the Amicus Wraith long ago, and you will learn about the more recent dreadful events."

"Not now, though," said John. "Not now. I mean, I think I've had enough for one day."

oOo

A sharp tinkling penetrated the dull roar of over-fed, overtired students. Rodney turned away from the last pickings of a platter of cheese and grapes.

"Listen up, folks!"

It was clear there would be no formality from Professor O'Neill.

"Just a few start of term notices, then we can all get some rest." He glanced down at Professor Carter, seated next to him on the teachers' table. Rodney tried in vain to suppress a twist of jealousy. "Or, as Professor Carter reminds me, you can all get some rest while we clear everything away." He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, so, I shouldn't need to tell anyone apart from the first-years that the forest to the south of our fair academy is out of bounds to students." He glared at the Athar table. "Out. Of. Bounds." Jinto and Wex nudged each other. "Also, Mr Bates, our caretaker would like me to remind you not to mess about in the transporters." He directed his voice at the Athar table again. "And especially not to transport any of the local wildlife to areas where neither it nor anybody nearby wants it to be transported."

Jinto leant across the table. "We got hold of a sheep last term and sent it to the Mess Hall."

"Took 'em ages to herd it out." Wex grinned.

"Skybattle trials will be held in the second week of term," the Head continued. "Anyone interested in playing for their House team should have a word with Mr Ford, our games master."

There was a ripple of excitement. Thanks, but no thanks, thought Rodney.

"And finally..." The Professor's relaxed manner changed suddenly, the lighthearted layer falling aside to reveal uncompromising steel beneath. "There is strictly and absolutely to be no student access to the south west pier this year. Under any circumstances." He raked the room, his eyes flat and black and boring into each and every soul to seek out any intended mischief. That was interesting. A blanket ban suggested that there was something exciting out there - maybe some kind of special research. Rodney leant back slightly and met John's eyes behind Teyla's back. Judging by the curving rise of his eyebrows, John was intrigued too.

Professor O'Neill clapped his hands. "Okay, kids, time to hit the sack!"

Benches scraped back, boots clattered on the floor and there was a flood of older students toward the entrance. Rodney had been dreading this moment. He pictured a long dormitory with a row of beds each side and no privacy.

"Gather round, first-years!" A tall girl-woman addressed them. She had long, straight blonde hair and a commandingly firm jaw. "I'm Anne Teldy. I'm one of the prefects in Athar house. I'll be taking you to Athar Tower now, so stay close - I don't want anyone getting lost. Okay, transporters this way."

They had to wait for a line of other students to use the transporter. Teyla once again grabbed Rodney's hand. He'd never held hands with a girl before and wasn't sure how he felt about it. She was holding John's hand again too.

They waited until the way to the transporter was clear. Anne Teldy showed them what to do, but didn't seem to have a clue how it worked.

"I'd just quite like to know how my constituent atoms are going to be disassembled and what the plan is for reassembling them in the correct, infinitesimally complex order," said Rodney.

"You'll have to take that up with Professor Carter," Anne replied.

Rodney's stomach leapt up to the level of his heart. To add to her perfections, the blonde beauty was a scientist!

"But for now," the prefect continued, "you can either take the transporter or take a hike - of, oh, maybe a half hour? If you run? What's it to be McKay?"

"Um."

"In you get." She pushed him in, along with John, Teyla and Carson. "Press there."

Teyla pressed the spot on the map. The door closed, there was a brief flash of white light and then the door opened to Evan Lorne and a waiting group of first-years.

"Last group. Good," said Evan.

They stepped out of the transporter. There was another flash and Anne Teldy came through behind them.

"Lead the way, Evan!"

It's bound to be mayhem with kids in charge, Rodney thought. Why couldn't the full school day be timetabled and structured and then there'd only be work, eating and sleeping and no stupid social stuff that he was really bad at?

Maybe there'd be some separate rooms to study in, though, where he could hide. Even those tiny cubicle cupboards would do. And, in a pinch, he could sleep in one if the dormitory was really noisy. He guessed there'd be a common room, but it'd be full of older kids taking all the best seats and squashing pipsqueak first-years.

They ascended a narrow spiral staircase and a set of double doors slid open.

"Oh. Huh. That's kind of… nice."

"As you can see," said Evan, "this is a scaled-down version of the Gateroom. There's plenty of space for everyone to spread out." He gestured round the room. "Kitchenette over there for snacks, rooms for quiet study, games and so on."

Rodney's mouth hung open. He thought he might manage a smile in a minute, once his eyes had taken in a bit more.

It was a wonderful room. The walls were hung with fabric in rich, dark colours and there were carpets scattered about the floor. There were old, battered armchairs and couches, as well as huge beanbags and heaps of cushions and blankets; and there was something that looked like a pool table but with different sized balls, and also a litter of bats and sticks and pieces of other games on a cupboard next to it. And, on the platform, where a half-size Stargate would have fitted, was -

"Is that a campfire?" John hopped up onto the platform and held out his hand toward the leaping flames.

"It's a hologram," said Anne. "But don't touch it - it will burn you."

The first-years all crowded round the fire. There was a circle of rocks around it. Rodney sat down and held out his hands. It felt real.

"There's a heater in there," said Evan.

"Wow. Can we -?"

"Toast 'smores?" Anne laughed. "Yes, Rodney. You can. But not tonight. Evan's going to take you boys up to your rooms and I'll take the girls."

Rodney looked up. The mezzanine level was also the same as the Gate room, but the rooms were similarly glass-fronted. There was nothing that looked like a dormitory or even a bedroom.

"They're up higher, where the Jumper bay would be," said Evan.

"So we don't have Jumpers?"

"No, Airman Sheppard. No Jumpers. Come on. Back through here."

"Girls' rooms are this way." Anne pointed at a door in the opposite side of the room.

"Goodnight, John." Teyla gave John a quick, firm hug. John looked like he didn't know what to do with his arms. He mumbled a goodnight. Rodney braced himself. "Goodnight, Rodney." The hug was very firm indeed. Teyla was definitely a girl you wanted hugging you rather than hitting you. She waved and followed the other first-year girls.

oOo

Even if this new world he'd only just discovered contained more than a few genuine horrors, not to mention a few shocking revelations, John had decided it was worth it. He was already in love with the Athar house common room and didn't really care where he was supposed to sleep. He'd just grab a blanket and bed down next to the campfire. But maybe he'd take a look at where he was supposed to sleep first.

The boys were led back the way they'd come in and climbed further up the spiral staircase. They passed a set of double doors on a landing. Then they passed another.

Behind John, Rodney was puffing. "Did they ever think that maybe putting a transporter up here might've been a good idea?"

"Here we are," said Evan at the next landing. "This is where the upper sixth were last year - they've all gone now, obviously.

The double doors opened onto a short corridor and then a round central space with six doors leading off. Which one would be John's? Would he get to share with Rodney? And maybe Carson. He seemed like an okay guy.

Evan took a tablet from inside his jacket. He gestured to the first room on the left. "So, in here we've got Brendan Gall, Peter Grodin, Joseph Abrams and Anthony Nichols. Just wave a hand over the controls and it'll let you in."

"Hey, we're together! What are the odds?" The gangling curly-haired boy grinned at his friends.

"Ah, that'll be Professor O'Neill," said Evan. "You think he's just a pretty cool guy, but he doesn't miss anything. And, lucky for us, he likes his students to be happy."

The four boys entered their room and Evan continued.

"Next: Ian Markham, Yannick Stackhouse,..."

The central area emptied until just the last room was left and there were just three first-years to fill it.

"This is you, boys," said Evan. "Looks like you'll have a spare."

"Cool," said John. He lifted his hand but the door slid open before he'd come anywhere near the controls. "Cool," he repeated. He led Rodney and Carson into the room that was to be theirs for their time at Atlantis Academy, and looked around.

Four small beds fanned out along the curving outer edge of the wall, separated each by a nightstand to one side and a deep-ledged window seat to the other. Next to two of the beds were trunks with smaller cases and bags resting on top. On top of one bed was John's tattered hold-all. And next to it, neatly folded and crisp with newness, was an Atlantis Academy jacket, with broad burgundy facings down the front.

And for the third time, John said, "Cool." And smiled.

At last! We've reached the end of the first day and our little heroes are installed in their cosy rooms! I'd love to live there!

So, on to their first day of lessons for me - this should be a lot of fun to write!