"Nosce Te Ipsum"
Know Thyself
Chapter Three: "A Summer of Apprehension"
By: Shinga
Disclaimer: You can figure it out, I'm sure.
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School ended with little mention of Agnes leaving. Mrs. Robins seemed mildly disappointed, if only because Agnes was one of the few who never openly sniggered at her during class. "I do hope that Zabini kid has as much sense as you," she'd said with a dramatic sigh. Agnes had smiled politely and wished her luck with the British exchange student while Ursula sat beside her and hid her chortling with a hand.
The last day was almost unsettling, as several classmates went and shook Agnes' hand, wishing her luck. She didn't know any of them, or at least had forgotten their names, and Ursula usually stood by and whispered their name so she could return the greeting or well-wishes.
Agnes was filled with something related to confidence, maybe, when the teachers barely gave her a second glance. "See?" she'd told Ursula. "They're not falling all over themselves to give their last goodbyes. They know full well that I'll be back, safe and sound, and normal!"
"Or they just don't care either way," said Ursula, blinking casually. "It's not like you're universally loved, Agnes."
Agnes fumed over this for quite some time, or at least until she forgot about it entirely.
Margaret spent less time in the room toward the end of the semester. Most of her time she spent studying for finals and keeping herself focused. However, she always somehow managed to keep her masses of friends happy with her.
"How does she do it?" Ursula asked Agnes one day. "She finds time for everyone and everything. She makes great grades and practically has worshippers despite how much work she puts in… you're her sister, what's her secret?"
"I don't know," said Agnes honestly.
Ursula snorted and went back to watched Margaret from afar with admiring eyes. "Go figure," she said, though less vindictive than normal. Agnes found herself not minding so much.
After finals, in the last few days that many referred to as 'fluff', Margaret put her attention back on Ursula and Agnes.
"Gosh, I've been so busy!" she said with a laugh. "I've barely had any time at all… you guys aren't mad about that, are you? I did try to--"
"We're not mad," said Ursula quickly. "Hell, you made more time for us than you should have."
Margaret glowed in appreciation. "I still feel I could have spent more time with the both of you… you especially, Agnes! You'll be gone soon."
"I have the whole summer home," said Agnes. "Besides, it'll only be a few months, and then I'll be back home."
After an uncomfortable pause, Margaret forced a laugh. "Yes, of course," she said. "But a summer will be by before you know it."
That week ended with the teachers cleaning up after the rowdier students who had partied their last few days away. Margaret insisted on helping, but they shooed her away from the school to the bus station with Agnes.
The bus ride home was uneventful, and even a little boring. Agnes would have slept if not for the fact the bus smelled too strongly of lemons, and was a tad too bumpy.
"We should live closer to school," Agnes complained.
"Tell that to dad," said Margaret, munching on a chocolate bar. "He's dead set on living in Ohio until he's found something interesting there… at all."
"Good plan," Agnes said with a snort. "He won't be dying then."
Margaret grinned. "I see your time with Ursula has at least given you a smart tongue," she said.
"I don't know if that's a bad thing or not," said Agnes with a frown. She looked out the window and pressed her backpack closer to her chest.
"Its fine," said Margaret, checking her watch. "She'll probably influence you enough this summer to keep people in Hogwarts on their toes."
"This summer?" Agnes whirled around to face Margaret, her brown eyes wide. "Is she visiting? You didn't tell me that."
"I invited her before we got on the bus," said Margaret, smiling. "You were distracted by a Mickey Mouse cloud, if I recall."
Huffing indignantly, Agnes patted her thick braids hair down. "When is she coming over?"
"She says her parents won't care either way, but she does need to go home and check in with them… she lives in Albany, so her trip is a bit longer. We'll know in a day or two."
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"There you are! We've been waiting for hours, what on earth took so long?"
Agnes was greeted with this as soon as she got off the bus, along with the grinning sunburned face of Mr. Marshall. She smiled back at him, and waved cheerfully as Margaret squealed and leapt into their father's arms.
"Ah, my girls! I've missed you both," he said, giving Margaret a tight squeeze. "I assume you have good reports from school to show me."
"Only the best," Margaret assured. "Where's mom?"
"In the car," Mr. Marshall admitted, adjusting his glasses and grinning. "We've really only been here a few minutes." He suddenly drew Agnes into a tight hug. "There's my exchange student! Bet you're all excited about Hogwarts, eh? Your mom had a third cousin that went there I think… wrote to us something about a ghost."
"A ghost?" Agnes gaped. "There's a ghost there?"
"Well, you know how your mom's relatives are… they could've imagined it. Now let's go out to dinner before we head home. A new restaurant opened downtown last month that I think you'll both like!"
It was a bit of a lame 50's themed burger place, and after thirty seconds Agnes began to loath the bright red jukebox in the corner. But the food was good and she did slowly find herself enjoying her parents again.
Mr. Marshall was very tall, a trait Agnes had inherited. He wasn't old, but he was beginning to show signs of age under his eyes and around his mouth. He smiled almost constantly and his gray eyes were almost blue whenever he laughed… or, rather, guffawed.
Mrs. Marshall was a good deal quieter and resembled Margaret more. Agnes barely saw herself in her mother at all, except perhaps for the tendency to keep silent in conversations, preferring a more social person to dominate the discussions. She was barely taller than Margaret, with frizzy brown hair pulled back into a tight, yet somehow failed ponytail. She wore small, thin wired glasses and dressed in a plain gray pantsuit.
"You know," said Margaret after a pause in the socializing. "Agnes made a friend this year!"
"No!" Mr. Marshall put on a look of dramatic surprise, and though he made it look feigned, Agnes knew he probably was actually shocked. "I sure hope it wasn't some boy."
"Hardly," said Agnes quickly, suddenly interested in her fries more. "Besides, she's more Margaret's friend. I don't talk with her much."
"Her name is Ursula," said Margaret. "We've invited her over the summer, I hope you don't mind."
"Since when have we ever minded?" Mr. Marshall asked.
Agnes knew that was true. Margaret often invited friends from school to stay for weeks on end at their place. Agnes never invited anyone unless she was forced to for a birthday party or something… which they hadn't made her do since she was ten.
"I'm glad your skills with people are improving," said Mr. Marshall with a firm nod at Agnes. "You'll need them at Hogwarts! Chocked full of magic kids there, according to your mama's cousin Al. Isn't that right, Cathy?"
Mrs. Marshall smiled gently and nodded. "Al always spoke highly of Hogwarts. He wrote again when I told him of your transfer… gave me all sorts of tips to pass on to you. He said to wear shoes as often as possible… American feet apparently aren't meant for cold British castle floors."
"Dad said he mentioned a ghost?"
"He didn't say much about that," said Mrs. Marshall. "But Al spent all his years at Hogwarts. Born and bred Englishman, and all."
"We're barely related," said Margaret with a smile.
Mrs. Marshall nodded. "At all. But he was always kind when I saw him at reunions, and now he writes twice a week with Agnes going to his pride and joy! He says he can't wait to hear which House you're sorted into."
"House?" Agnes asked, picturing an actual two-story building with a white picket fence. It made absolutely no sense in the context of the conversation whatsoever.
"He didn't explain," said Mrs. Marshall. "You'll find out when you get there. He says the rules are pretty clean-cut and the atmosphere is very comfortable. You'll see all sorts of things… he says the Grounds are beautiful and dangerous."
Agnes stopped eating instantly. "Dangerous?"
"Oh, I'm sure he meant nothing by it," said Mr. Marshall with a bark of a laugh. "Old cousin Al is just out to make things sound exciting for you!"
"Exciting?" Agnes squeaked.
"Is Hogwarts much bigger than our school?" Margaret interrupted, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Much!" said Mr. Marshall. "Al said there were close to a thousand kids attending when he was there years ago. It could be even bigger now!"
Agnes and Margaret shared in the surprise. Enrichment Magic was almost pathetically small… there were seventeen wizarding schools in the lower forty-eight states of America, and theirs was probably the smallest and least acknowledged. Probably no one at Hogwarts will have heard of it, Agnes thought to herself, suddenly embarrassed.
"But these Houses make it sound like you won't be interacting with the whole school body," said Mrs. Marshall, spotting the look of mortal terror on Agnes' face. "I admit I don't know how it works but perhaps Cousin Al will shed some light."
Agnes found herself not comforted at all by this.
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Settling back into her small bedroom wasn't hard on Agnes. She was as easy going as anyone could ask for, though she knew her complacency might very well be challenged by the huge change in the exchange program.
She tried to spend as much time as possible in her room, memorizing the bare walls and the collection of raggedy teddy bears she stopped collected when she was three. She had old journals half-written in strewn about the room… she'd never been the type to worry over her parents finding her writings. In fact, she was sure they feared dying of boredom so they never bothered asking about her personal life very much.
Her parents treated her with the same delicate oddity they always did. Mr. Marshall always got her up in the morning with the promise of a big dad-baked breakfast. His favorite dish to make was hotcakes… a dish Agnes had sworn off all her school years thanks to eating it so much at home.
Mrs. Marshall was gentle with Agnes, but this was nothing special… she was just a generally sweet person to everyone. Agnes had never seen the woman lose her temper, and doubted she even had one. In fact, when Agnes was eight she had gotten heavily into cheesy science fiction films and one day questioned her father if Mrs. Marshall was a robot.
While her parents acted no differently, Margaret was a different story. She had always been accepting of Agnes, and rarely pushed her into talking or hanging out too much. But now it seemed Margaret was in Agnes' room at every free moment, or taking Agnes down to the patio with her, or talking in the living room over popcorn and 80s sitcoms.
"Why are we hanging out so much?" Agnes asked after a month of this behavior.
"Well, why not?" Margaret laughed. "Unlike normal, I won't see you all school year. Might as well enjoy the summer while we have it, huh?"
Agnes hadn't noticed the way Margaret had looked away and changed the topic very quickly.
Ursula visited every so often, and would stay for a while. She seemed much friendlier in the loose atmosphere of the Marshall household. She didn't mind that the guest room was undergoing massive renovation. She slept on an inflated mattress in Margaret's room, but she and Margaret both spent most their time in Agnes' room.
"Your room is dull," Ursula noted the first day she saw it. "Most kids put up pictures or something."
"I don't have any," said Agnes. "I remember faces very well… I've never needed a photograph to remember."
"We'll give you some before you leave to Hogwarts," said Margaret, then she started giggling. "Have you heard, Agnes? Ursula couldn't remember the name of the school in one of her letters and kept guessing! She guessed everything from Pigpimple to Swineacne. I've never laughed so hard!"
The summer was slow and every day brought more anxious agony. Agnes paced often and tried her hardest to think of how new and exciting this could be. Of course, those weren't her words, but her parents'… she saw it as ridiculous.
"Why did I ever sign up?" Agnes demanded one day out of the blue, feeling overwhelmed from the sleepless nights. "I've never wanted to do anything like this! I'm comfortable where I am, living a boring and completely eventless life. Why did I sign up to be shipped off to some stupid castle?"
"I thought you liked that it was a castle," said Ursula, looking up from the girly magazine she and Margaret had bought for the sole purpose of making fun of the anorexic models.
"I do!" said Agnes. "But the cons outweigh the pros here!"
"You don't know that," said Margaret. "And in any case, don't worry, okay? You'll be fine, you'll go there, finish up your year, and come back safe and sound."
Agnes did notice the look Ursula shot at Margaret, whose smile instantly faltered into an embarrassed gape.
"Safe?" Agnes frowned. "Oh… I get it. You guys are just hanging out with me this much because you figure I'll be dead before the end of the year." When Ursula scowled, Agnes shrugged. "Sorry, Ursula."
"It's not that," Margaret stammered. "We'll miss you, that's all…"
"Stop worrying about whether I'll live or not," said Agnes firmly. "I'll be fine… Laura was tragic, but the same thing will not happen to me. I promise you."
Margaret and Ursula exchanged glances… Margaret's a worried stare and Ursula's a comforting smile. Margaret sighed and looked back at Agnes. "See, Agnes," she said. "Ursula and I have been talking about this curse and what it could mean for you. It's important you don't fall victim to whatever Laura did."
"I won't!" Agnes insisted.
"I know, I know, you said that," said Margaret uneasily. "But just in case, Ursula and I plan to write you weekly and we want you to write back every day."
"Every day?" Agnes stopped seething and blinked. "What if I'm busy?"
"Every day," Ursula pressed.
"It's important, Aggie," said Margaret, using the name she'd not used since she was six. "We want you to report to us everything that happens to you… whether its your studies, your friends, or your… physical appearance. These were the warning signs we spotted in Laura's old letters."
"And what if the same thing starts happening?" Agnes asked, getting up from her floor and sitting on the edge of her bed.
"We'll… we plan to alert some one," said Margaret, her voice so uneasy that Agnes felt a twinge of fear.
"Who would listen?" Agnes asked in a small voice.
"We'll make some one listen," said Ursula, more to Margaret than Agnes. She put a hand around Margaret's small shoulders. "It'll be fine… who knows. This whole Laura thing just could have been a big, weird coincidence that just happens to have a curse somewhat similar to it mentioned in a restricted magic book."
"I'm no stranger to sarcasm, Ursula," said Agnes, bristling.
"Good to know."
"It's getting very late," said Margaret, her voice shaking unmistakably, but she smiled up at her sister anyway. "We should be heading to bed now… we all need sleep. Our heads are heated from the summer weather, and arguing won't help any of us." She stood, barely taller than the seating Agnes at full height. "Good night, Aggie."
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No one woke Agnes up on August 18th. It was well past ten when she woke up, blinking in disbelief at the clock. Her door was open, and she could smell no evidence of hotcakes and sausage from the downstairs kitchen. She wrenched back her covers and scrambled out of bed, hurrying into a pair of jeans and one of her dad's old university t-shirts.
She hurried downstairs, making no attempt to be quiet. She found her family in the dining room. Ursula had gone back home to appease her parents the day before, and so she'd likely be gone until the late afternoon. Margaret was sitting primly with a handkerchief wadded up in her hand. She was the first to notice Agnes.
"Agnes!" she said. "We've been waiting."
"Hello, sweetheart," said Mrs. Marshall, smiling calmly. "We have a letter we got today from Albus Dumbledore… you're to be leaving within the week."
"The week!" Agnes grasped the back of a chair facing opposite her mother. "But the term doesn't start until September! I have weeks to go!"
"The Headmaster wishes to have you stay with a wizarding family so you'll be safely escorted to the train station like a normal student," she said, her smile fixed. "Since you live with Muggles he would like you to have a bit of time fully immersed into the experience of living with a wizarding family."
Agnes' thoughts instantly painted a picture of a crazy old woman brewing potions with a single crooked tooth and a shrieking laugh.
"But… the week?" Agnes asked again meekly.
"Yes," said Mrs. Marshall. "I suggest you begin your packing. It should be another two to three days, so I would hurry."
Agnes just stared. Two to three days?
"I'd suggest you and Margaret spend some time together while you're here," said Mr. Marshall, speaking up for the first time and sounding a good deal more quiet than usual. "She was very upset by the news. She'll sure miss you, little bug… we all will."
Not for the first time that summer, Agnes felt incredibly frightened by those words.
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Dumbledore was to arrive at the house early afternoon, shortly after lunch. Agnes couldn't eat at all… Margaret and Ursula followed her everywhere she went, not saying a word between them. Agnes felt more and more uncomfortable in their presence… even Ursula had an odd look on her face and kept her hand on Margaret's trembling shoulder.
Agnes' parents also kept close, hugging her often and giving her last minute advice straight from cousin Al. Mrs. Marshall insisted on putting ribbons in Agnes' hair, which Agnes planned on removing as soon as it was too busy for her mother to do anything about.
Once alone with Margaret and Ursula in her room, Agnes whirled around on the two of them.
"You've hardly said a word all day," said Agnes. "Now stop being so… so weepy. I will be fine. You see, the Headmaster is coming for me! It must mean if there is a curse, Hogwarts probably knows about it and they're taking care of it! Why would they send me otherwise?"
Margaret sniffed. "Sorry," she said. "It's just hard to overcome fear."
"You're still to write everyday," said Ursula firmly. "No matter what the Headmaster says when you guys talk, you can't slack off. You got me?"
"Yeah, I got you," said Agnes, half expecting Ursula to personally come over to Hogwarts and beat her senseless if she forgot.
"And you're to tell us everything," said Ursula. "No matter how complacent you may be about some change or another, if it's a change it's important!"
Agnes resisted a military-type affirmation. "Yeah," she said.
"Whether that horribly frizzy hair of yours calms down, or your large nose seems less crooked, or your eyebrow becomes two eyebrows, or your knees stop being bony, or your chest grows, or…"
"Ursula!" Margaret blushed and giggled a little at Agnes' blank face. "Sorry, Aggie, I'm sure she didn't mean to offend."
"Why?" said Agnes. "I don't mind the things wrong with me. Makes me stand out."
"Sure… keep telling yourself that," said Ursula with a good-natured smile to balance her words.
"Agnes!" Mr. Marshall called from downstairs.
"Well, I guess he's here," Margaret took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sure going to miss you, Agnes…" Then she blinked, and burst into tears.
Agnes walked over and drew Margaret into an uncomfortable hug. She had never seen Margaret cry so shamelessly. Ursula wrapped her huge arms around the both of them.
"Agnes!" Mr. Marshall repeated after a moment's time.
Agnes blushed lightly and pulled away from the embrace to grab her suitcase. "Come on then," she said, dragging the heavy suitcase out the door and down the stairs, followed by Ursula and Margaret, who was quickly wiping her face dry with a napkin.
Once downstairs, Agnes froze at the sight of a very old man sitting on the easy chair in the living room. He was examining his surroundings with a barely noticeable smile, his long white beard hanging past his knees and gathering in a small clump on the floor around his feet. He wore deep purple robes lined in silver and red. His calm eyes were accented by half-moon spectacles.
He noticed Agnes almost immediately and he gave her a wide smile. She probably should have been comforted by it, but she couldn't help but be distracted by his obvious comfort with wearing robes.
"Agnes!" Mrs. Marshall stood from her place on the loveseat beside Mr. Marshall. "Headmaster Dumbledore is here to take you to your wizard family host."
"It is, of course, only temporary until school begins in September," said Dumbledore. His voice was oddly clear and direct for a man of his age. Agnes briefly wondered how old he was. "After the school year is over you have the choice to go back to your wizarding family for a while or go straight home."
Agnes turned to glance back at Margaret and Ursula, who returned her look with incredulous frowns.
"He's to be taking you to Hogwarts through the fireplace," said Mr. Marshall uncertainly.
"Floo!" Margaret goggled. "I've never gotten to use that."
"I've never heard of it," said Agnes.
"It is uncomplicated," said Dumbledore, standing. His beard didn't quite reach the floor, but it was close. He patted it down. "We will go straight to Diagon Alley to purchase your schoolbooks, which your parents have given me enough money to do. Afterwards we shall meet with your family and they will take you to their home for the remainder of the month."
Agnes stared at him for a good while before nodding numbly.
"I must make a quick stop in the lavatory, if you don't mind," said Dumbledore. "You should have a moment alone to say your farewells to family and friend." He smiled toward Ursula, who blinked as Dumbledore left the room.
"Oh, Agnes," Mrs. Marshall bustled over and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around her daughter's shoulders. "We'll miss you ever so much! You'll write of course."
"No worries there," said Agnes truthfully, trying to return the hug.
Mr. Marshall put his arm around Agnes and gave her a quick squeeze. "Now you watch out… those British boys won't know what hit 'em! Wouldn't want my little girl taken advantage of."
"Dad!" Agnes flushed deeply. "That won't be a problem."
Margaret rushed around and leapt up to throw her arms around Agnes. "I'll miss you, Aggie! I know you'll write, so I won't bring that up… but here," she smiled and dropped down to her height again, pulling something from her pocket. It was a small picture album, thin enough to fit. Agnes opened it and flipped through… it had old family picture in there, and recent ones of the parents, Margaret, and even Ursula. On the last page was a picture of Agnes.
"Why is there one of me?" Agnes asked.
Margaret said nothing, and Ursula walked up and clapped a hand on Agnes' shoulder. Agnes winced, but Ursula didn't notice. "Good luck, chica," she said. "We're waiting for you."
Dumbledore returned shortly after this, with a small bag of powder. He smiled and gestured for Agnes to come over. She did, dragging her suitcase. "I'll take the suitcase… we wouldn't want it getting lost in your first Floo travel."
"Sure," said Agnes, suddenly very unsure of this 'Floo'. She kept her eyes on the bag of powder.
Dumbledore opened the bag. "Hold out your hand," he said. She did, and he poured a small pile into her hand. "That should be a handful's worth… you are to toss it into the fire and shout 'Diagon Alley' very clearly, do you understand?"
"Yes, I do… then what?"
"Well, you are to walk into the fire."
Agnes gaped. "Oh… okay," she said, gulping. "Will it burn?"
"Of course not," Dumbledore said, taking out his wand and lighting the fireplace with it. "Go on… speak very clearly, mind you. People can get lost if they mumble. When you get there, wait for me, and do not wander off. It wouldn't do to have you lost anywhere, would it?"
With that pleasant thought clear in her mind, Agnes squared her bony shoulders and tossed the powder into the fire. It turned a sparking green color. "Diagon Alley!" She said, hoping her American accent wouldn't somehow affect it. Closing her eyes tightly, she walked into the green fire.
Agnes had never been one to get dizzy easily. She could hang upside down to do her homework and never fill the ill effects of it later. But this tested her limits… she twirled and somersaulted and was tossed and flung in every which way. She would have screamed if she thought her lungs might work.
Before she could pass out from this roller coast from hell, she was tossed out onto a hard wooden floor, coughing like mad. She tentatively opened her eyes, her vision clouded by the ash on her glasses. She took them off and started trying to rub the glass with her shirt, but it wasn't working well… the shirt was just as filthy.
She had moved enough from the fireplace, luckily, that when Dumbledore appeared behind her, she wasn't in the way. She squinted to try and see him clearly, but he was just a blur. Despite her vision, she could tell he wasn't covered in soot.
"Tut! Must keep up appearances… scourgify," said Dumbledore with great amusement, using this spell to clean Agnes' clothes and skin. Agnes thanked him quietly and put her glasses back on.
"Where's my luggage?" she asked.
"I sent it on ahead to the house," said Dumbledore calmly. "It seemed a rather silly idea to cart it around all day, am I right?"
"Oh… yeah," said Agnes. She turned around away from Dumbledore to survey the busy street full of brightly colored robes and odd looking characters. Banners hung for shops, with moving pictures on signs inviting people in. "Is this the Alley?" She turned back to look at the fireplace and frowned. "There's just a fireplace in the middle of the street?"
"What better place?" asked Dumbledore. "Let's see," he pulled a long sheet of parchment from a pocket. "First we must buy your books! Then we shall purchase other things you may need this year, including a cauldron."
"I get my own? Back at home we just use some old school cauldrons."
Dumbledore smiled patiently.
The shopping went by quickly. The books she needed were right there in the open, easily accessible. The store owner was helpful, and intrigued by Agnes' accent. It took her four times of telling him that Ohio wasn't all that exciting before she could get out of the store, books in hand.
Agnes was never a very observant person, but after a while it was obvious even to her the looks people gave Dumbledore. Some were a mix of surprise and awe, and even a few glared at him. A lot of people whispered and pointed, and hardly anyone spotted Agnes at all.
She bought the cheapest cauldron she could find that Dumbledore still approved of. Afterwards she had everything she would need, and they went for ice cream and to wait for Agnes' host family to pick her up there.
Dumbledore picked an exciting variety of scoops in his ice cream, complete with sprinkles that twinkled like stars. Agnes was slow in eating her two scoops of chocolate, distracted by the sprinkles.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind," said Dumbledore. "All of this must be very unusual to you."
"I live in a Muggle home, so… yes, it is," said Agnes, tearing her eyes away from the Headmaster's ice cream.
"The family you will be staying with I think you will like," Dumbledore continued, eating a scoop of lemon ice cream. "They are much respected."
"Mr. Dumbledore… Headmaster… sir…" Agnes grabbed at names, not knowing which to pick. "A couple of things are really bothering me…"
"Hm?"
"Well, for starters… why did you pick me up? I mean, you must be very busy, and I'm only an exchange student… no one even a little important," said Agnes, looking down at her hands as they wrung nervously in her lap. "I was wondering… if it had anything to do with Laura."
Dumbledore let a moment of silence go by, long enough to make Agnes look up at him in curiosity. He had a slight frown and a sad look in his eyes. "Laura's fate is a very regrettable one," he said slowly. "Our students were very sad to see such a noble girl pass on. She was well liked by nearly everyone she met… and though death is merely a step into another realm, it is sad to see such a young woman leave us."
Agnes felt cold. "But… Laura wasn't that great!" she insisted. "Back in school, she was… snobbish! She didn't have any friends, and she wasn't even that attractive… at all. In fact, she was sort of ugly with that scowl on her face all the time. No one liked her much, except her roommate. She wasn't noble, or, or… complicated. She was simple, a nobody!"
Dumbledore raised both of his eyebrows curiously, staring very intently at Agnes. He was frowning still, but it was an odd frown. "Hmm," he said. "Perhaps she changed with her environment… it happens." She noted a hint of hesitation in his voice, but forgot it almost instantly when he suddenly smiled. "We should go and meet your host family. You'll be staying with the Longbottoms… you'll see some of Neville during the year, depending on which House you are Sorted into."
"House…" Agnes nodded. "I meant to ask you…"
"Ah yes," said Dumbledore. "There are four Houses you can be Sorted into… you will eat, sleep, and spend your free time with your Housemates, and your behavior will either earn or cut points for your House. There is a great deal of pride involved in House related issues, and a closeness in Housemates. You'll be Sorted at the opening ceremony along with the first years."
"Does it just pick randomly?"
"Oh, no," Dumbledore shook his head. "It depends on your personality, what traits you have in your heart and head. The Sorting Hat will tell."
A hat? Agnes stared in disbelief. I hope 'hat' is just short for something…
"You'll find out when you get there," said Dumbledore, making Agnes jump and wonder if he'd read her thoughts. He gave her a confident smile and pulled a watch from his pocket. "My, it's almost time! You're to meet the lady of the Longbottom house, Neville's grandmother. Come, let's hurry. She prides herself on punctuality."
Agnes followed him to meet the Longbottoms, trying to keep her worries about Laura hidden.
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