Word Count: 4,042
Former Word Count: 2,707
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What Might Be Called an Introduction
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[September 1, 1994: Apparition Point near the Altair Institute of Magic]
Altair Institute lays high in the mountains, at the very end of a long, deep valley. The mountains that sheltered it were sheer and steep on all other sides, shorn clean by bitter winds. It left the only way to Altair a long walk by foot through the long valley. Over the years of Headmasters and determined Professors, the wards that buffeted the outer mountains were nigh impenetrable, and the valley itself stocked full of beasts of all sorts. The higher mountains were pockmarked with caves, full of wyverns and dragons and all other manners of winged creatures, a more diverse spread than in any other wild place.
The first Headmaster, a rather young daemon with an exceptional amount of connections and inspiration, only 38 years at the time, had a bout of rather uninspired creativity and had simply named the valley Convallis. Convallis, as he found it, was not nearly so deep, and the valley floor was not so thickly forested, and much of the flora was as mundanely unmagical as it could be. There was only a small flock of roc in the high mountains and only a young pack of direwolves hidden deep in the forest. Convallis was flush enough to provide for more, though, and as more and more powerful magical beings grew interested, bringing with them enough magic to infuse the mountains and rivers with life, sinking deep into the very roots of Convallis, the mountains rose higher, the trees grew thicker, darker, and the valley became home to one of the most protected reservations of wild magical species.
All manner of the magical creatures came to the valley to make it their home, and each was welcomed within its wards and borders. It was with a great deal of zeal that the students of Altair would protect their home, gleefully hunting down poachers and intruders. It was dangerous, perhaps, to create a place that would so readily house all the strongest beings and creatures. The magic had a bit of an unfortunate side-effect, though the first Headmaster would have likely laughed and called it good fortune, as the sheer amount of magic sunk into the valley made it impractical and near impossible to take any form of magical transportation through Convallis to get to Altair Institute.
Trying to fly above the valley floor on brooms or magic carpets would sometimes tear the enchantments from the broom and lead flyers to drop to their deaths, if they hadn't already been plucked from the air by a clever roc or wyvern. Portkeys, unless precisely set, would be drawn towards the spots in Convallis marked with the most magic, which also happened to often be nesting grounds for several nasty creatures. So, it was unfortunate for students that the closest you could apparate or portkey into was barely past the mouth of the valley, in an eerie circle drawn deep into the ground and high into the sky that was purified and deadened of the wild magic of Convallis. It was not a magical dead-spot, no, it was merely only as magical as any other uninteresting place.
For the students that made it to be welcomed inside Altair Institute there was all manners of getting to and from, so long as they were approved by the Administration, but that first time coming to Altair always required an arduous hike through Convallis until they reached the Institute. The longest hikes were more than 200 kilometers, the actual spread of the valley, but most found that one way or another, that distance would be morphed and shortened by the magic inherent in the valley.
It was there in that circle of quiet magic that the Hogwarts students were sent to, by apparition or by portkey, to wait for instruction. It was clear of trees, with curved stone benches sitting just inside the borders of the ring that were only ever used that first day of the year. More often than not, older students would take the time to place hexes or jinxes on them, things that would not be realized until much, much later. Some of the older students had come to the surrounding trees to wait for and watch the new arrivals. It was the same routine as what had happened five days previous when the True first-year Altair students had arrived, though there were certainly more students present now. There had, after all, never been exchange students in the recorded history of Altair.
As it were, the Hogwarts students were set to arrive at seven, and be pointed in the direction of the school no more than 30 minutes later. Deputy Headmistress Alith Mercuriel had been as unclear as she possibly could in her letter to the Hogwarts students, offering them each a portkey and instructing them to not be late. There was no mention of the trek they would soon undergo, though if one only looked at some of the memoirs by Altair Alumni (which were often intentionally vague and misleading, leading students to expect all sorts of things that first day) and regular invitations that Altair sent out (published in several books) then they would be aware of some form of a hike.
While unprepared, the Administration was not particularly inclined to deal with the deaths of twelve Hogwarts students, so there had been a reluctant agreement that instead of forcing them to trek the long valley in two days, as a regular Altair student would have to, they would be given three days, and would be supervised by some of the older, bored, Altair students. They were only there to prevent interference by anything spectacularly unreasonable. Riverren Aizaguirre had not felt particularly motivated to ensure that the Hogwarts students could not die at all (if they fell from their own stupidity, who was he to care), but he did not want to deal with them facing, say, a dragon, on their first day.
So it was grudgingly that some of the older Altair students agreed to ensure that the Hogwarts students did not face the truly vicious traps and beasts. Headmaster Aizaguirre had, after all, agreed that they could interfere a little on their own if they felt inclined, and so some of the Altair students settled in the trees around the apparition point, concealed under illusions, or invisibility spells, or casually wearing their animal forms. They were certainly enough to conceal them from the view of the students, though the adults who had been invited to wish them farewell had a slight chance of being able to detect them.
They were really only planning to stalk the Hogwarts students, causing a little bit of mischief, and having incessant, unrelenting mental commentary on the flaws of the incoming exchange students. The mental commentary was on an 'open telepathy line' that used the Altair insignias worn by all students as a sort of identifier to ensure that only Altair students could project their thoughts to. It was fortunately set up so only those who wanted to listen—the students presently watching and some intrigued teachers—would have to hear the commentary.
Abruptly, the first crack! of apparition sounded, two people appearing in the center of the circle, the younger stumbling slightly and looking distinctly ill from the travel. The elder, a male with long, scraggly black hair and grey eyes, was tall and stood confidently, reaching a hand out to steady the younger girl. His eyes quickly moved to scan the area, lingering slightly as he spotted some of the obscured students, an eyebrow creeping upward as he grinned briefly in amusement. He wore traditional British wizarding robes, cumbersome things that were rarely worn by any other magical community. On his right breast, there was a crest, one that someone quickly recognized as belonging to the House of Black.
/ That'll be Sirius Black, then, / one of the more prominent students, the vampire Sei Varrick, projected through the bond. He'd likely only recognized it from his interest in Necromancy and because of the Black some centuries ago who had pioneered more than one development in the field, though most of them were banned from practical use. / I'd bet the little thing next to him is Callisto Potter, our new celebrity. / the vampire concluded mockingly to amused laughter.
She was indeed little, shorter and thinner than any healthy girl of fifteen rather ought to be, with black hair pulled back into a single braid down her back, and brilliant green eyes that many described as eerily reminiscent of a certain curse. Her hands fluttered nervously across her white buttoned shirt and backpack straps, brushing away the dust she'd kicked up when she'd stumbled. She glanced at Sirius Black for a moment before she too looked around, a smile pulling at her mouth as her gaze wavered in certain places. The Altair students had expected a trunk, perhaps, but she had only a backpack woven with Acromantula silk and heavily spelled with expansion, anti-thievery, and protection enchantments.
/ She certainly doesn't look like much, does she Sei? / another student, Reid Strelem commented. He was another vampire, from a rather respected family. He sounded put-out, bothered that the girl they had considered the greatest possibility to be interesting looked so… small.
/ With everything being said about her, I expected a stronger aura, / someone said to hums of agreement.
/ Notice the band on her wrist? / a human girl that was rather proficient in enchantments explained, / Its purpose is to subdue and calm her magic and hide her magical aura. It really just keeps people from sensing her aura unless they push, probably something she got after whatever she did to that Voldemort fellow. /
It was ten minutes until seven, and the portkey that had been scheduled to take the muggle-born students finally activated, and the two that appeared from the vortex staggered appropriately, likely having rarely used that method of transportation before. The older girl had alarmingly bushy brown hair and appeared to be wearing her Hogwarts school uniform: robe, skirt, red-and-gold Gryffindor tie, and all. She was hauling with her a trunk and a half, and looked around rather imperiously, nose scrunching in distaste at her surroundings. The boy stood taller than her and had his hair combed nicely with what looked like half the uniform—a button-up shirt, and dress pants—though his things were stuffed in an expanded cloth backpack and a smaller muggle suitcase.
Both smiled at seeing Potter, the bushy-haired one rushing towards her only to have Potter move so that Black stood between them. Potter scowled at her, arms crossing as she eyed the other girl. "I'd ask you to stay away from me, Granger," she said pointedly, only relaxing when Black put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
/ Oooh, / one of the Naga hissed through the bond, wearing his serpent form as a convenient disguise as he nestled high in the branches. / Do we getss to sssee a fight before the term even startsss? /
/ Shut up, reptile, / one of the fae muttered nastily, / No one wants commentary from the likes of you, Syrul. /
/ The likesss of me? / the Naga retorted, shifting in his position to find the fae across the clearing. Supposedly, the two had come across each other earlier that summer and something had happened between the two, as the bond was full of hissed threats as the two turned their attention away from the events in the clearing.
"Callie!" Granger blurted indignantly, "I thought you had gotten over this!"
"Gotten over what, exactly?" Potter muttered foully, eyes narrowed.
"The silly idea that Ron and I aren't your best friends!"
"Granger," the other kid interrupted, "I didn't think friendship involved ditching your friends at the first sign of gossip."
"Thanks, Justin," Potter sighed tiredly, "For the last time, Granger, I'm not your best friend. You ditched me because of something I didn't even do. Maybe, if you focused a little less on your grades and wanting everything your way, then we could have stayed friends and you wouldn't only have Weasley."
"Callie-" the Granger girl started, only to be interrupted by twin cracks of apparation, two blond families appearing suddenly. One pair was an older male, with long blond hair and the mark of the Deathly Hallows hanging from his neck. He was holding the arm of a young girl, also blond, though she seemed to be wearing a necklace of corks and a blinding pink dress. The girl raced towards Potter, flinging her arms around the other girl with a delighted squeal while her father looked on with an amused smile. She, like Potter, only wore a specially crafted backpack, though hers was interestingly shaped with what looked like a raven's wings extending from the side and came along with a pair of glasses strapped to the side and a series of buttons announcing all sorts of creatures that the watching students would swear weren't actually real.
/ Wait, those two are the Lovegoods! They write the Quibbler! / an incubus blurted over the bond, sounding rather excited. / It's a bunch of bogus conspiracy theories and a lot of weird things about imaginary creatures. My sister sends in articles every once and awhile, just to see how much she can get away with and still have it published. /
The other blond family was a woman who tensed as soon as she saw Black and a younger boy with a sneer that looked like it had been permanently etched into his face. Someone picked out the crest on the boy and had mentioned that they were the Malfoys, a family who apparently thought it appropriate to bring three trunks full of things to a school. He was scowling rather aggressively in the direction of Potter, though his attention was redirected by the final snaps of apparation that heralded the arrival of the rest of the group. First was a pair of redheads with hair so bright it looked almost orange, the elder a worn looking man with threadbare clothes that still stood proudly next to his son, a boy who quickly moved to join Granger.
Next came a brunette girl and her father, a rather short man who looked terribly out of place, but who followed his daughter to Black and Potter. The girl had smartly shoved a good deal of her things into an expanded bag, though she still had a full trunk at her side. They arrived with a second pair of redheads, though their hair was much more muted than the first. The elder was a woman that someone pointed out to be Amelia Bones, leading to the reasonable conclusion that the girl at her side was her niece Susan. It was without fanfare that the final four Hogwarts students arrived, their parents whispering praise and reassurance before they apparated away one by one.
Finally, when only Sirius Black was left, he turned to the girls accompanying his goddaughter and grinned rather maniacally, "You ready, kiddies? There's no turning back now, and if any of you girls come back before the year is out, I'll hex you 'till you can't see straight and find yourself blue for a month." He nods seriously as if that was a reasonable thing to say to a child before turning on his heel, waving a final time to Potter.
/ Well, introductions are in order, / one of the students said as he gripped the branch he stood on tightly, eyes flickering madly over the Hogwarts students, / The two with Potter'll be Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, the blond attached to the- 'hic' -savior is Luna Lovegood. The gangly redhead is Ronald Weasley, and the bushy-haired one is Hermione Granger. /
/ Gabel Malwick's bizarre tendencies strike again, / Reid Strelem said quietly, eyes flicking warily to the hidden human.
/ Shut it, Reid, / Gabel snapped back, shifting slightly to accommodate the loss of a hand for balance as it twitched back and forth between the branch and one of his knives. / One of the blondes will be Justin Finch-Fletchley, with him is Terry Boot, and the two with Malfoy are Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. The other's Michael Corner. /
The silence resumed uneasily, the Altair students switching between watching the Hogwarts students and their unstable peer. They stayed quiet as the 'purebloods' of the lot, Malfoy, Zabini, Greengrass, and Corner collected themselves and sat imperiously down on the benches, sitting stiffly and looking for all the world like the place wasn't worthy of housing them. They were mute as Weasley and Granger sat as well, after sending rather pitiful glances back towards Potter, looking mighty petulant when she only ignored them.
"Should we sit down too?" Finch-Fletchley muttered towards Potter, making an aborted step when she only shook her head.
"The benches are cursed," Potter replied, smiling faintly in the direction of the trees, and assuming the impromptu position of leader easily, "hexed, really. You're welcome to sit, Justin, but I haven't a clue if the hexes are meant to paint your skin blue or if they're meant to permanently remove your big toe. I'm alright at recognizing when things are cursed from being with Paddy and Moony, and I can only guess that those are going to be some pretty nasty time delayed ones."
/ Not entirely incompetent, then, / Sei said softly, wandlessly flicking an almost invisible hex at the girl's clothes for no other reason than the fun of it, watching in satisfaction as it landed without her notice. / Ready for the introductions, Marcus, Reagan? /
/ Only always! / the two human siblings replied in cheery unison, letting their invisibility fall as they stepped from the trees behind the pureblood groups, gratified at Malfoy's shriek of shock, though most of the others had little reaction. Offhandedly, Boot murmured a quiet "Constant vigilance" to Finch-Fletchley, the two grinning at the inside joke.
"Welcome to Altair," Marcus started, "or, welcome to the first step to getting to Altair. I'm Marcus Lorenzo, and I've been studying a few different types of Illusory magic for the past 4 years I've been a student here. I'm nineteen, so I'm afraid I've only got this year and the next left available to me to take whatever classes I want, and this here's my little sister, Reagan."
"Good morning, everyone!" Reagan said cheerfully, slinging a tanned arm over her brother's shoulder. They glanced at each other with grey eyes before she pushed him away and walked forward. "I'm fonder of the more in-your-face magic, so one of my focuses is battle magic."
The Hogwarts students all seemed to be rather confused, possibly not recognizing the magic mentioned. They did mostly look excited or nervous, though Corner stepped forward angrily, "So what, we aren't good enough for a professor to come and get us?"
"No, you really aren't," Marcus said, eyes narrowing and posture tensing almost immediately, "though I don't see why you think you can tell Administration what to do."
"Not to mention that arrogance can have the unfortunate effect of making it distinctly harder to get to Altair," Reagan added. It was half a lie, as being capable of getting to Altair often had the unfortunate effect of instilling a little bit of arrogance in its students, though most were actually deserving of the pride.
"What could you do, though?" Malfoy blurted, digging both their holes deeper, "It's not like you can kill us at Altair."
"I guess you haven't noticed, Malfoy," Potter interjected quickly, eyeing the Altair students warily, "but we're not at Altair just yet."
"It'll be alright, Azalea," Lovegood said dreamily, "There's no wrackspurt infestation here, so Draconis Malfoy will understand everything soon enough."
"Shut it, Loony!" Malfoy (/ Draconis, really? /) shouted at her, "No one wants to hear about your stupid, made-up-"
Reagan had already had enough, silencing him with a flick of her wrist, sliding her wand out afterward before the Hogwarts students noticed. The brat fumed silently, arms crossing as he glowered at the older magical. Reagan and Marcus pushed past the students, walking steadily towards a path that would eventually reach a trailhead, the point where they would be left with nothing more than a compass. The students behind them rushed to keep up, some trying to quickly shrink their trunks or transfigure them into what passed as backpacks. Marcus was fairly certain one had face planted in their rush to keep the Altair students in their sight, and audible complaints followed them as they stumbled over the well-worn path. Their attempts at transfiguration fell flat, backpacks ending up misshapen and liable to fall into pieces at any given moment.
/ What do you think a wrackspurt is? / someone asked over the link, /Or at least what she thinks it is. /
/ Could be based on some form of Sight? /
/ Or the "Loony" nickname has merit. /
/ Don't be a dick. /
The girl in question skipped delightedly after the Lorenzos, pausing briefly to try and pick a very poisonous flower, a pretty magical larkspur that, if held for long periods of time like the girl seemed to have planned would burn the skin and quickly move to paralyze whatever was touching it, be they an animal or a human. Potter had quickly intercepted, drawing her hands away from it and explaining softly to her what would have happened to her had she picked the flower. It was a slightly graphic description that resulted in pale faces among the rest of her peers as they tried to avoid touching any of the plants along the trail.
Lovegood looked unbothered by the fact that she had almost poisoned herself, pouting after Potter until she picked out a flower that wasn't poisonous, and though it was less pretty, she still handed it to Lovegood so that the blond girl could place it dutifully behind one ear.
/ That's a point for being crazy if I ever saw one. /
When Marcus and Reagan reached the trailhead, they turned to the Hogwarts students and both looked rather peeved that, as they arrived one by one, most out of breath, it took the last one of them a whole five minutes longer than Marcus and Reagan. The trail hadn't even been that steep!
/ They're not going to reach the ssschool in time if that'sss how fasst they walk. / Syrul commented. The Naga had moved just as quickly as Marcus and Reagan despite the small snake form he was wearing to stay hidden, / Even if they do get more time. /
/ Deputy Mercuriel did say they got three days, / Reid spoke softly over the bond, / She also mentioned that Master Ircoriel had a new experiment, though. /
/ Don't even mention Ircoriel! / a human snapped, agitated. There were rumors that the Elder Vampire knew it when his name was spoken, especially when it was by another vampire. / I'd figure the psychotic vampire would be fonder of more challenging marks, not a bunch of poorly trained children. /
/ They're prejudiced. / Marcus pointed out as his eyes trailed over the gathering Hogwarts students, / And they think they're better than us. Ircoriel might be unhinged, but he's damn proud of Altair and his fledgling vampires. Now hush. /
/ He is neither unhinged nor psychotic. / a vampire said sullenly, though she quieted soon after.
"Here's what's going to happen," Marcus said firmly, eyeing the dangerously tight-fitting robes the pureblood Brits were wearing and the Hogwarts school uniforms others wore with a frown, "You have around three days to make it to Altair. It's around two-hundred kilometers deep into the valley, though Convallis tends to… distort, I suppose, the space inside of it. You'll be given compasses that point to the end of the valley and Altair expects you to arrive no later than 72 hours from now. Be cautious, because the flora and fauna of Convallis are hungry, and they will not discriminate from the fact that you are inexperienced. Do not try to use brooms. There are dragons, rocs, and all other manner of flying creatures that will pick you out of the sky."
With a final look at the dawning horror on the Hogwarts student's faces, the Lorenzos turned and left, vanishing into the darkness as if they had never been there, leaving behind a bag full of compasses and a lingering whispered "good luck."
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