Tuesday dawns bright and all too early. I can tell it's bright because the water is a lighter green than before. By daylight, the dormitory is far more inviting. Thick tapestries carpet the walls, and a soft glow hangs about the crown molding where they meet the ceiling. At first I think the room is hung with Christmas lights, but when I squint, I realize there's no wire connecting the lights, and no bulbs either. Just tiny yellow-white orbs, softly floating in midair.

Hogwarts doesn't bother with new student orientation. We leap right into our coursework. I'm not unhappy about that, but I wouldn't have minded a warning about the moving staircases, either.

Tuesday's schedule includes Transfiguration, Potions, double Herbology with the Ravenclaws, and double DADA with the Gryffindors.

Who decided that was a good idea? Though McGonagall glossed over it, I can already tell from the mutters of my classmates that we're supposed to hate one another.

It sounds exhausting, hating Gryffindors. It's an emotion most people dispense freely, but I doubt I'll be able to muster up the energy. Anyway, I'm here to learn magic at a magical school. I wouldn't care if we had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Whomping Willow.

Even without checking the ornate mirror in the bathroom, I can tell there are dark circles beneath my eyes. I fell asleep easily, but the darkness was the blind, suffocating kind. The Sorting Hat whispered in my ear all night long.

This morning I catch the eye of a dark-haired girl across the dormitory. Although we sat together on the trip across the lake, Violet and I didn't have a chance to speak at dinner, so our conversation begins with boring pleasantries. Vi seems all right. She's pureblood, or what passes for it, with about eight older brothers, and every one of them is in Ravenclaw. I listen to her talk, for the most part. Mother and I don't exactly have a rule about sharing information, but we're pretty private, and I'm protective of her. And I learned early on that it wasn't a good idea to spread my family name.

By breakfast Violet and I have progressed to the traditional scrutiny of our schedules—as though first-year Slytherins don't have every single class together—and I've progressed toward making my first real friend.

We spend the rest of the meal eavesdropping on clearly exaggerated tales from older students, who soliloquize on everything from potions gone wrong to particularly bloody Quidditch tournaments. Violet drinks it in, occasionally voicing comparisons to her brothers' Hogwarts stories. I'm sipping idly at my orange juice, half-listening and letting the voices wash over me when the first rustle from above entwines with the chatter in the Hall. A moment later there's a proper breeze, and I raise my head.

Hundreds of owls stream through the windows overhead. Tawny, brown, black, here and there a speck of grey or white. As I watch, the birds swirl out of formation and downwards, dropping letters and packages into the laps of students.

I don't realize there's a grin stretched across my face until I drop my gaze to see Violet regarding me with amusement.

"What?"

"Haven't you ever seen an owl before?"

I laugh, McGonagall's offhand remark suddenly making sense. "Of course"—although I didn't exactly expect a horde of them to deliver the morning mail. I struggle for a moment to express the sense of wonder that's begun to rekindle after the events of last night. "It's just…we're here. At Hogwarts."

Vi matches my grin. I stuff a final forkful of eggs into my mouth and leap to my feet. "Come on."

Now she laughs. "To Transfiguration? We'll be twenty minutes early at least…"

Transfiguration. The Astronomy Tower. The Forbidden Forest. I hardly care which.

"What part of 'magical castle' are you missing? Come on!"

As we start up the curving, carpeted steps, I take a moment to wonder why Violet mocked my reaction to the mail. And why, for a split second, I felt defensive.

It wasn't a lie, that I've seen an owl. There was the one that delivered my Hogwarts letter. But surely I'm not the only first-year surprised by the sudden and unorthodox appearance of the mail delivery system? Surely there are more efficient methods?

Violet is chattering on. I transfer my gaze back up the staircase and wonder about Mum's views on pet owls.


Classes are a haze of delight, though at first my wand feels slightly unnatural in my hand. Despite my incessant protests, Mother put off the trip to Diagon Alley until two weeks before term started, by which point I was exasperated enough to go by myself. I've had little opportunity to practice with the wand. But I have to admit it brings control and focus to my magic. This is a welcome change from the past few months, so I throw myself into classes with enthusiasm—magical homework, after all, can hardly be called homework.

Gary and Scorpio still complain, however. Incessantly. I catch a bit of their conversation as Vi and I drop our books onto a corner table in the common room.

"Elementary Wand Movements, can you believe it, Father taught me this when I was seven…"

"Spellcasting for Beginners. How is reading going to help us do magic?"

"It's the same rubbish for everyone. There should be a slow class for Muggle-borns."

I finger my wand, but I don't know any curses yet. That will have to be remedied soon.

Violet catches the movement and twists her wand through her short hair. "What's yours?"

"Sorry?"

She disentangles the wand from her curls and holds it out. "Dragon heartstring and black cherry. What's yours? Didn't Ollivander tell you?"

"Oh—yes. Erm, phoenix feather and yew."

"What?"

I shift uncomfortably. "That's what he said."

Vi gives a short laugh, the way she did at breakfast, and I feel a distinct twinge of discomfort. "I'm surprised you bought it, Annie…surprised he made it."

"It's old, I think. He pulled it from the back—" After I stood in front of the dusty counter for sixty minutes, that is, wrist threatening tendonitis as I conducted imaginary music with every wand in the shop.

I let a flicker of irritation show.

"What does that matter? It chose me."

"I dunno…" Violet says slowly, then grins. "Bit of an unlucky combination, though, don't you think? Maybe that's why you're in Slytherin."

A couple of third years at the next table glance over uneasily. Unlike me, they seem to get the joke. I sink onto a hardwood chair. "S'pose so. How about you?"

At mealtimes Violet always waves cheerily at a couple of older boys who share her dark curls and round face. Most of the time they continue chatting with their blue-scarved friends and studiously ignore their little sister, not that she seems to care. I wonder if it's usual for siblings to be Sorted into different houses.

"Oh… my family's been in Ravenclaw for ages. I always was the black sheep." She flashes a wicked smile, which for some reason makes me feel better.

"Doesn't it…bother you?"

"What?"

I choose my words carefully. "Being different."

Vi rolls her eyes. "Better than boring. Dad works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Mum's a historian, she's been busy for ages writing some book called War Among Wizards. I, however, have better things to do than stick my nose in a stack of parchment all day." Her face brightens. "C'mon."

Casting a slightly regretful glance at my spellbooks, I allow myself to be dragged out the door.


Several hours later, it's probably past lights out, definitely past dinnertime, and we're still exploring. Lost, more like. I need a new watch; for some reason mine's stopped working.

"Vi." My voice emerges tired and exasperated. "If we haven't gone over every meter of this castle by now, I'm a unicorn."

Violet has her wand out, pointing at the lock on a particularly heavy-looking and certainly off-limits wooden door.

"I said Alohamora, you stupid thing…"

She taps her wand tip on the lock and pouts, in the apparent hope that glaring will prove a more reliable medium than Latin incantation.

"Violet. I'm all for adhering to the spirit of adventure, but we've got Charms first thing in the morning, and any moment now Branwen or her evil cat is going to—"

"Why won't this stupid spell…"

"For heaven's sake." I shove her aside and place my palm against the lock, concentrating. I taught myself this trick first thing last winter, although at the time I was more concerned with locking doors than opening them. In a moment the tumblers slide into place with a satisfying click. I step back, brushing my hair from my face. "There you go."

The look Violet gives me is uneasy. I'm starting to get nervous when she does that. She pushes on the door, and it gives.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Unlock it…without a wand."

I stare back, expressionless. "Maybe you should try doors before resorting to Alohamora."

After a couple moments her face creases into its customary grin and she shakes her head. "One day, Annie, I'm gonna figure out all your secrets."

"I can't imagine what you mean. And it's going to."

"What?"

"Grammar Nazi. Sorry."

Violet rolls her eyes at me and gestures at the no-longer-locked-but-still-definitely-off-limits door. "Shall we?"

Ominous warnings roll through my head. Detention, expulsion, and possible painful death pass before my eyes. For a moment I see McGonagall's eagle-gaze as clearly as though she were standing before me.

"Please."

I half-expect a roomful of glaring staff members, but when Violet pushes the door open, there's nothing. Just an empty, white-painted room with scuffed floorboards and no furniture. She sighs in disappointment and makes to shove the door shut again, but I put out a hand to halt her.

"Wait."

I take a few slow steps inside. Violet's impatience evaporates when she sees what's caught my eye. At the far end of the room, I crouch down to examine the floorboards. About fifteen feet from the back wall, the scratches begin: long, narrow grooves carved in rows, nearly an inch deep in the wooden boards. I run my fingers lightly along the marks, frowning. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were made by an enormous…

Wait a moment. Wood?

Who builds a wooden floor in a castle? It's utterly pointless. There must be stone just beneath.

Unless…

The closer I move to the back wall, the filthier the floor is. Long black hairs lie scattered in the dust. Carefully I pick one up; it's rather stiff, like a bristle, and nearly the length of my hand.

"Violet, you didn't shed this, did you?"

"Ha-ha."

The metal loop mounted in the wall is confirmation. The stone wall, I note.

"Look at this, Vi. A large animal was chained here a long time ago. You'd know more about magical creatures than I would, but it's…" I drop to the floor and take a deep sniff. Continue, gagging:

"…most likely some sort of dog, going by the smell…You can see the scratches in the floor, deepest near the wall where he dragged his claws back. Must've been absolutely enormous…" I lose my train of thought for a moment, lost in contemplation of the huge claw marks. "He strained at the chain, trying to get at whoever came in the door. The metal loop in the wall pulled out a bit—the metal looks shinier there—and was reinforced with magic."

Vi stares. I'm starting to get used to it.

"That's actually pretty amazing."

"I…thanks." I shrug helplessly. "There's hair everywhere. It's not a particularly difficult conclusion to come to."

"Well, there's nothing exciting here beyond the facts that you're a genius and they keep large lethal animals chained up in Hogwarts. I guess I have some incentive to do my history homework now. Should we get back to the common room?"

I'm still gazing thoughtfully at the wall.

"Annie? Let's get to bed. We can look up the dog in Hogwarts, A History. You like books, remember?"

"Wait. There's got to be something else."

"What?"

"Why this chamber, of all places? All the other rooms I've seen are made entirely of stone. Why chain up a dangerous animal in possibly the least sturdy room in the castle? Why build a room with a wooden floor? Why keep a giant dog around at all?"

"Umm…sentiment?"

I roll my eyes. "Use your head, Vi. Any sane person would chain Fido in the dungeons, where he couldn't get loose and eat anybody. It wasn't that hard to get in here."

"What's your point?"

I scan the floor for a moment, until I spot what I'm looking for. "He must have been here for a reason, must have been guarding…this!" My fingers catch in a groove and I heave upwards on a trapdoor that, until a second ago, blended almost perfectly with the floor.

Nothing leaps out of the floor to eat us. My life is full of anticlimax. Violet approaches the hole with some trepidation and peers downward by the light of my wand.

"Nothing I can see. Just darkness. No, wait, move your wand back—further—I think there's some kind of plant."

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I can't help feeling a bit disappointed.

"They set Fido to guard a plant? Bit of overkill, don't you think?"

Vi pulls back with her face set. "Depends on the plant."

I shut up. She has a point.