"I am pleased with your marks at Shadehurst," said Angeline, holding a delicate whine glass that had in it a light rosy liquid, in the other hand she had a sheet of paper. Most of her attention was focused on the page, though the wineglass traveled to her mouth at regular intervals. She lounged backward, chilly green eyes scanning the page quickly, and smiled. "Very pleased," she repeated, nodding and placing Guin's grades on the table. Leaning back, she looked very much like a pale pantheress.
Guin relaxed as well. She found, that after three years at Shadehurst, she was no longer petrified of Mother. Wary, yes, but the fear that turned her stomach to ice was no longer there. "Thank you, Mother," she said, arms resting on the sides of the white whicker chair. They sat outside, enjoying the summer day on the carefully landscaped patio. The table, white iron constructed to resemble the more organic shape of the chairs, had on it Angeline's silver tea service.
"So, daughter, tell me – what have you learned?" Angeline reached out to pick up a cracker with a thin layer of cream cheese spread over it, and on top of that, finely sliced cucumbers in a pattern reminiscent of a snake's skin. Catching the crumbs in one hand as she bit into the snack, the woman flicked them away from herself and onto the ground.
Guin was saved from answering, because suddenly, a large owl flew overhead. It was a tawny, healthy-looking creature, with huge golden slit-pupiled eyes. The shock of seeing an owl in broad daylight faded as it dropped something into her lap, a heavy parchment envelope with a neatly pressed purple seal holding the thing shut. Guin picked it up carefully, holding it warily as though the paper might suddenly explode.
Angeline watched the owl shrewdly as it wheeled away, placing the glass on the table as she looked mischievously towards her daughter. It was obvious she knew what the letter was. "Well? Open it!" she exclaimed, with unusual show of good cheer.
Guin obliged, inserting her thumb carefully underneath the wax. Two pieces of paper dropped from it; one had a printed letter on it, and the other was a list. Both bore the public-school writing of a woman. "It's from Hogwarts," Guin said, as two identical green gazes met over the rim of the vellum.
"Excellent," said Angeline approvingly, "And they're on schedule, too. We shall buy your things tomorrow."
-----
They went to Diagon Alley through Muggle London, early in the morning so that they might stay the day. Dressed in black slacks and an ebon, sleeveless shirt, Angeline blended in nicely, and Guin, in baggy khaki shorts and a gray short-sleeved shirt, more so. As they walked, Angeline murmured into Guin's ear, pointing out the landmarks that they passed. They slowed, and Guin saw it right away.
It was a dingy pub, with a sign that read "T e Leaky Cauld on." Several of the letters, obviously painted a long time ago, had peeled away and created a rather confusing new word. The Muggles walking by did not focus upon the shabby little building. Wizards moved in and out in a steady stream, though to Guin it didn't look big enough to hold them all. Perhaps it does take out, she thought, amused.
Angeline was forced to duck as they moved through the door. It looked much as she had expected, inside, rather dark and crowded, like stepping back in time to the early 1900's. There were a number of witches and wizards gathered in front of the round tables. The bartender, as Angeline had told her earlier, was named Tom. He filled mugs with frothy ale, handing them to the people waiting at the bar counter. "It's in the back," Angeline said, as they moved unnoticed through the tavern and to the back yard.
All that was there was a trashcan, and a rat that hissed and bared its teeth at them. "Avada Kedavra," Angeline said coolly, and there was a flash of bright green light that knocked the rodent over backwards, where it lay sprawled with its feet in the air, dead. Guin blinked but said nothing, Angeline was already counting the number of bricks in the wall. She found the one she wanted and tapped it lightly with her wand, stepping back. Guin watched fascinated as a portal appeared, swirling upward and open.
They walked into the wizard world, and Guin had her first glimpse of Diagon Alley. She liked it instinctively, for it was a loud, cheerful place where one could blend into the crowds easily, where colors shouted and smells beckoned, where you could buy dragon liver and troll toe-nails, five-flavored ice-cream and Every Flavor Beans and owls. Bright signs advertising broomsticks and board games and bat's wings were placed strategically along the storefronts. Never had she seen anything quite like it in her life. Diagon Alley was as far from Shadehurst as she could imagine.
"Gringotts first," said Angeline, and they wove their way through the masses of people. Guin looked at the large marble steps and then at Angeline, who was already moving toward the imposing stone building. The goblins were small, not much taller than she; but Guin didn't like the shrewd looks on their faces, as though they were plotting something. "Our vault is 614," Mother told the goblin at the desk.
He looked down his nose at the heavy book before him, licking one finger and flicking officiously through the heavy pages. "Hmm, hmm, yes.. Marlowe? All in order," the goblin said, handing them a small golden key, which Angeline slipped into a pocket. "Snagsharp will take you down to the caverns." They were handed over to another goblin, much younger than the elderly creature at the desk. "Go along then," he said indulgently to Snagsharp.
Guin was amused to note that during the entire trip down to the vaults, Angeline's lips were pressed tightly together and there was a distinctly greenish pallor to her cheeks and around her mouth. Guin, on the other hand, made the most of the ride, and had to be ordered to sit down twice. "At times, the stalactites are low enough to take off your head," the goblin said cheerfully, "It's a huge liability and extremely bad publicity. You can decapitate yourself somewhere else, though, if you wish." Suddenly the cart stopped in front of one of the vaults. "614," said Snagsharp, and handed them the key.
Inside the vault was a fair amount of coins, more than Guin had expected to see. They were made in three metals, gold, silver, and what seemed to be bronze. Angeline frowned at them for a moment before choosing mostly gold galleons, depositing them in the bad held by the goblin Snagsharp. "Thank you," Guin said to him, as it seemed Angeline was not about to offer any such pleasantries. The goblin smiled at her in a disconcertingly toothy expression.
Angeline took the bag away and returned to the cart silent on the journey upwards. They left and stood on the stairs, where the woman smiled absently at Guin. "I h ave to meet someone in the Leaky cauldron, why don't you head over to Madam Malkin's and get measured for your school robes? They aren't that expensive, here, take a galleon and count the change…" With one arm clasped around her daughter's shoulder, she led Guin to the shop, commenting, "You've grown! A good thing you need new robes, anyway!"
In Madam Malkin's shop, Guin waited silently in a chair as two boys were measured before her, with the tape dancing of its own accord over their arms as they stood on three-legged stools. One was pallid and nasty looking, and the other had rather messy black hair and deep green eyes. As she didn't recognize either, the girl made no move to approach them. She listened with half-interest to their conversation, and abruptly decided that she did not like the pale boy. He sounded too much like her mother. The dark boy, with hair hiding his forehead, seemed nice enough, though obviously of Muggle birth. As a giant approached the shop, he left, and so did the pale boy. Guin wrinkled her nose at his back, then asked, "What?"
The woman, Malkin, was talking to her. "Just stand up here, dearie." She obliged, standing next to a girl, small and delicate, with an upturned nose, blue eyes, and mousy brown hair. "Hi!" the other girl said cheerfully, holding her arms out to the side as the measuring tape stretched along them. "I'm Rilla, what's your name?" She didn't give Guin time to answer, and continued immediately. "My parents aren't wizards. Muggles, I mean, but they think I'm so lucky to be going to Hogwarts that they're jealous!" She giggled. "Can you believe it? Jealous! Are you Muggle-born, too?"
Guin stared at her for a moment. The bubbly personality was unlike anything she had ever seen, and the outspoken friendliness was alien. Angeline was chilly at best, and the other children at Shadehurst had been nasty and cruel. "I'm.. I'm Guin," she said tentatively, thinking furiously as she did. If Mother saw her talking to this girl, there would be hell to pay – Angeline hated Mudbloods. Abruptly, Guin decided that Hogwarts would not be another Shadehurst, she would have a friend, and she didn't care what Angeline thought. "Yes, it is a bit surprising at first, but you'll get used to it. Any idea what House you'll be in?"
"Well," Rilla said, climbing off the stool with Madam Malkin's help, "From what I've heard, I think I'll probably be in Hufflepuff. I'm really nothing special!" She grinned and watched as Guin also finished, and hopped from the stool to the ground. "I dunno; definitely not Ravenclaw, I can't keep my attention on a book. Gryffindor, maybe, but prolly Hufflepuff. I don't care, I'm just happy to be going to Hogwarts. What house d'you think you'll be in? I bet it's Gryffindor!"
"God, no!" Guin exclaimed, laughing. "My entire family's in Slytherin. They always have been."
"You could always be the first," said Rilla, stubbornly.
"That's it, dears, you can leave it you want," Madam Malkin added.
"See you at Hogwarts!" Rilla called, as her parents arrived to pick her up.
"'Bye," said Guin.
-----
They stood in front of Ollivander's wand shop, Guin with some trepidation and Angeline with her usual serene confidence. "Go on," she said to her daughter, "Nothing to be scared of. He's a bit .. touched .. but harmless, really." She pushed open the door, which tinkled from a small silver bell hung there, and then shut noiselessly behind them. Angeline offered the one chair to Guin, and herself lounged against the wall, completely at home.
Ollivander was not how she had pictured him. Instead of a wise, tall wizard, he was short, pale, and somewhat plump, with pallid eyes sheathed behind wide glasses, which made him take the appearance of a bug. He watched Guin for a moment before throwing a glance towards Angeline. "Mistress Marlowe, welcome back," he said dryly, amused. "Ivory and unicorn hair, was it not? Ten inches?" He was carrying several boxes in his hands, and placed them on a table. "An all-around beauty, perfect for all work." Angeline did not appear disturbed, despite the sharp stare of the old man.
"And you, young Marlowe. Wand arm? Height?" he fired off question after question, and Guin found herself stumbling over the answers to simple questions. Left; five feet; no, she had never broken her arm, and sometimes she wrote with her right hand… Abruptly, an oak length was shoved into her hands. "Go ahead, try it out!" Ollivander demanded, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
Guin held it lightly for a moment, and flicked the thing gently. Nothing. Ollivander shook his head and snatched it away, and was about to hand her another one, of some sort of pale wood that had a glistening sheen to it, when she noticed the wand. It sat half-in, half-out, of its box, a foot long, ebon length of magic. "Could… Could I try that one?" Guin asked hesitantly, causing Mr. Ollivander to blink in surprise and nod, though she noticed his appraisal of her seemed more approving than it had before.
"Certainly. Twelve inches long, ebony and dragon's heartstring," he said, handing it delicately over. It felt right in her hand, fitting snugly in the curve of her palm. Guin raised it and flicked the thing lightly, and sparks flew, crystal-blue and in the shape of flowers. They hung there glowing for a moment before falling apart and dropping to the ground in a wildly shimmering cascade. Ollivander took the wand away from her and boxed it, muttering as he did. "Odd, quite odd. Usually have to give them several.. No one's ever picked the right one.."
"My daughter," said Angeline calmly, "is not your ordinary girl." She looked fondly at her offspring, and paid the shop keeper.
Guin relaxed as well. She found, that after three years at Shadehurst, she was no longer petrified of Mother. Wary, yes, but the fear that turned her stomach to ice was no longer there. "Thank you, Mother," she said, arms resting on the sides of the white whicker chair. They sat outside, enjoying the summer day on the carefully landscaped patio. The table, white iron constructed to resemble the more organic shape of the chairs, had on it Angeline's silver tea service.
"So, daughter, tell me – what have you learned?" Angeline reached out to pick up a cracker with a thin layer of cream cheese spread over it, and on top of that, finely sliced cucumbers in a pattern reminiscent of a snake's skin. Catching the crumbs in one hand as she bit into the snack, the woman flicked them away from herself and onto the ground.
Guin was saved from answering, because suddenly, a large owl flew overhead. It was a tawny, healthy-looking creature, with huge golden slit-pupiled eyes. The shock of seeing an owl in broad daylight faded as it dropped something into her lap, a heavy parchment envelope with a neatly pressed purple seal holding the thing shut. Guin picked it up carefully, holding it warily as though the paper might suddenly explode.
Angeline watched the owl shrewdly as it wheeled away, placing the glass on the table as she looked mischievously towards her daughter. It was obvious she knew what the letter was. "Well? Open it!" she exclaimed, with unusual show of good cheer.
Guin obliged, inserting her thumb carefully underneath the wax. Two pieces of paper dropped from it; one had a printed letter on it, and the other was a list. Both bore the public-school writing of a woman. "It's from Hogwarts," Guin said, as two identical green gazes met over the rim of the vellum.
"Excellent," said Angeline approvingly, "And they're on schedule, too. We shall buy your things tomorrow."
-----
They went to Diagon Alley through Muggle London, early in the morning so that they might stay the day. Dressed in black slacks and an ebon, sleeveless shirt, Angeline blended in nicely, and Guin, in baggy khaki shorts and a gray short-sleeved shirt, more so. As they walked, Angeline murmured into Guin's ear, pointing out the landmarks that they passed. They slowed, and Guin saw it right away.
It was a dingy pub, with a sign that read "T e Leaky Cauld on." Several of the letters, obviously painted a long time ago, had peeled away and created a rather confusing new word. The Muggles walking by did not focus upon the shabby little building. Wizards moved in and out in a steady stream, though to Guin it didn't look big enough to hold them all. Perhaps it does take out, she thought, amused.
Angeline was forced to duck as they moved through the door. It looked much as she had expected, inside, rather dark and crowded, like stepping back in time to the early 1900's. There were a number of witches and wizards gathered in front of the round tables. The bartender, as Angeline had told her earlier, was named Tom. He filled mugs with frothy ale, handing them to the people waiting at the bar counter. "It's in the back," Angeline said, as they moved unnoticed through the tavern and to the back yard.
All that was there was a trashcan, and a rat that hissed and bared its teeth at them. "Avada Kedavra," Angeline said coolly, and there was a flash of bright green light that knocked the rodent over backwards, where it lay sprawled with its feet in the air, dead. Guin blinked but said nothing, Angeline was already counting the number of bricks in the wall. She found the one she wanted and tapped it lightly with her wand, stepping back. Guin watched fascinated as a portal appeared, swirling upward and open.
They walked into the wizard world, and Guin had her first glimpse of Diagon Alley. She liked it instinctively, for it was a loud, cheerful place where one could blend into the crowds easily, where colors shouted and smells beckoned, where you could buy dragon liver and troll toe-nails, five-flavored ice-cream and Every Flavor Beans and owls. Bright signs advertising broomsticks and board games and bat's wings were placed strategically along the storefronts. Never had she seen anything quite like it in her life. Diagon Alley was as far from Shadehurst as she could imagine.
"Gringotts first," said Angeline, and they wove their way through the masses of people. Guin looked at the large marble steps and then at Angeline, who was already moving toward the imposing stone building. The goblins were small, not much taller than she; but Guin didn't like the shrewd looks on their faces, as though they were plotting something. "Our vault is 614," Mother told the goblin at the desk.
He looked down his nose at the heavy book before him, licking one finger and flicking officiously through the heavy pages. "Hmm, hmm, yes.. Marlowe? All in order," the goblin said, handing them a small golden key, which Angeline slipped into a pocket. "Snagsharp will take you down to the caverns." They were handed over to another goblin, much younger than the elderly creature at the desk. "Go along then," he said indulgently to Snagsharp.
Guin was amused to note that during the entire trip down to the vaults, Angeline's lips were pressed tightly together and there was a distinctly greenish pallor to her cheeks and around her mouth. Guin, on the other hand, made the most of the ride, and had to be ordered to sit down twice. "At times, the stalactites are low enough to take off your head," the goblin said cheerfully, "It's a huge liability and extremely bad publicity. You can decapitate yourself somewhere else, though, if you wish." Suddenly the cart stopped in front of one of the vaults. "614," said Snagsharp, and handed them the key.
Inside the vault was a fair amount of coins, more than Guin had expected to see. They were made in three metals, gold, silver, and what seemed to be bronze. Angeline frowned at them for a moment before choosing mostly gold galleons, depositing them in the bad held by the goblin Snagsharp. "Thank you," Guin said to him, as it seemed Angeline was not about to offer any such pleasantries. The goblin smiled at her in a disconcertingly toothy expression.
Angeline took the bag away and returned to the cart silent on the journey upwards. They left and stood on the stairs, where the woman smiled absently at Guin. "I h ave to meet someone in the Leaky cauldron, why don't you head over to Madam Malkin's and get measured for your school robes? They aren't that expensive, here, take a galleon and count the change…" With one arm clasped around her daughter's shoulder, she led Guin to the shop, commenting, "You've grown! A good thing you need new robes, anyway!"
In Madam Malkin's shop, Guin waited silently in a chair as two boys were measured before her, with the tape dancing of its own accord over their arms as they stood on three-legged stools. One was pallid and nasty looking, and the other had rather messy black hair and deep green eyes. As she didn't recognize either, the girl made no move to approach them. She listened with half-interest to their conversation, and abruptly decided that she did not like the pale boy. He sounded too much like her mother. The dark boy, with hair hiding his forehead, seemed nice enough, though obviously of Muggle birth. As a giant approached the shop, he left, and so did the pale boy. Guin wrinkled her nose at his back, then asked, "What?"
The woman, Malkin, was talking to her. "Just stand up here, dearie." She obliged, standing next to a girl, small and delicate, with an upturned nose, blue eyes, and mousy brown hair. "Hi!" the other girl said cheerfully, holding her arms out to the side as the measuring tape stretched along them. "I'm Rilla, what's your name?" She didn't give Guin time to answer, and continued immediately. "My parents aren't wizards. Muggles, I mean, but they think I'm so lucky to be going to Hogwarts that they're jealous!" She giggled. "Can you believe it? Jealous! Are you Muggle-born, too?"
Guin stared at her for a moment. The bubbly personality was unlike anything she had ever seen, and the outspoken friendliness was alien. Angeline was chilly at best, and the other children at Shadehurst had been nasty and cruel. "I'm.. I'm Guin," she said tentatively, thinking furiously as she did. If Mother saw her talking to this girl, there would be hell to pay – Angeline hated Mudbloods. Abruptly, Guin decided that Hogwarts would not be another Shadehurst, she would have a friend, and she didn't care what Angeline thought. "Yes, it is a bit surprising at first, but you'll get used to it. Any idea what House you'll be in?"
"Well," Rilla said, climbing off the stool with Madam Malkin's help, "From what I've heard, I think I'll probably be in Hufflepuff. I'm really nothing special!" She grinned and watched as Guin also finished, and hopped from the stool to the ground. "I dunno; definitely not Ravenclaw, I can't keep my attention on a book. Gryffindor, maybe, but prolly Hufflepuff. I don't care, I'm just happy to be going to Hogwarts. What house d'you think you'll be in? I bet it's Gryffindor!"
"God, no!" Guin exclaimed, laughing. "My entire family's in Slytherin. They always have been."
"You could always be the first," said Rilla, stubbornly.
"That's it, dears, you can leave it you want," Madam Malkin added.
"See you at Hogwarts!" Rilla called, as her parents arrived to pick her up.
"'Bye," said Guin.
-----
They stood in front of Ollivander's wand shop, Guin with some trepidation and Angeline with her usual serene confidence. "Go on," she said to her daughter, "Nothing to be scared of. He's a bit .. touched .. but harmless, really." She pushed open the door, which tinkled from a small silver bell hung there, and then shut noiselessly behind them. Angeline offered the one chair to Guin, and herself lounged against the wall, completely at home.
Ollivander was not how she had pictured him. Instead of a wise, tall wizard, he was short, pale, and somewhat plump, with pallid eyes sheathed behind wide glasses, which made him take the appearance of a bug. He watched Guin for a moment before throwing a glance towards Angeline. "Mistress Marlowe, welcome back," he said dryly, amused. "Ivory and unicorn hair, was it not? Ten inches?" He was carrying several boxes in his hands, and placed them on a table. "An all-around beauty, perfect for all work." Angeline did not appear disturbed, despite the sharp stare of the old man.
"And you, young Marlowe. Wand arm? Height?" he fired off question after question, and Guin found herself stumbling over the answers to simple questions. Left; five feet; no, she had never broken her arm, and sometimes she wrote with her right hand… Abruptly, an oak length was shoved into her hands. "Go ahead, try it out!" Ollivander demanded, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
Guin held it lightly for a moment, and flicked the thing gently. Nothing. Ollivander shook his head and snatched it away, and was about to hand her another one, of some sort of pale wood that had a glistening sheen to it, when she noticed the wand. It sat half-in, half-out, of its box, a foot long, ebon length of magic. "Could… Could I try that one?" Guin asked hesitantly, causing Mr. Ollivander to blink in surprise and nod, though she noticed his appraisal of her seemed more approving than it had before.
"Certainly. Twelve inches long, ebony and dragon's heartstring," he said, handing it delicately over. It felt right in her hand, fitting snugly in the curve of her palm. Guin raised it and flicked the thing lightly, and sparks flew, crystal-blue and in the shape of flowers. They hung there glowing for a moment before falling apart and dropping to the ground in a wildly shimmering cascade. Ollivander took the wand away from her and boxed it, muttering as he did. "Odd, quite odd. Usually have to give them several.. No one's ever picked the right one.."
"My daughter," said Angeline calmly, "is not your ordinary girl." She looked fondly at her offspring, and paid the shop keeper.