Dumbledore sat patiently at his desk while the four heads of houses argued amongst each other. Professor Sprout, the more maternal one of the group, had come to this meeting out for blood. He sat back in his chair, an amused expression on his face as he listened to her berate Professor Snape, Slytherin's head of house, while Professor Flitwick and Professor Mcgonnagal tried in vain to referee.
"How dare you give one of my students' detention on their first day!" Professor Sprout went on, "and a first year to boot!"
"She turned my hair pink." he hissed out.
"You knew damn well she can't control her magic, did you not listen to a thing Professor Dumbledore told us? That's what you get for giving her a hard time about her tics!"
"What you call tics, I call blatant disrespect." Professor Snape sneered.
"Well, maybe you really should stop using donkey sperm as a substitute for a shampoo!" Professor Sprout shot back.
"Pamona, please." Professor Mcgonnagal said, only to draw Professor Sprout's wrath on her.
"And you! I expected better from you!"
"She seemed to take it in good humor." Professor Mcgonnagal said defensively.
"Don't think I didn't see you waggling your rolled up newspaper at her at breakfast! Since when do you make fun of disabled students?"
"Professor Sprout, please kindly calm down." Dumbledore said. "It is, as Mcgonnagal said, she found her antics humorous, rather than offensive. I believe she feels included in the joke, not the butt of one."
"And how would you know?!"
"I haven't seen Miss Rodger's eyes shine that bright since she picked out her wand at Olivander's."
"Maybe your eyesight's going! How do you know they weren't shining with tears?"
"I have seen Miss Rodger's cry. I gave her a booger flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, thinking it was apple. Now, Professor Sprout, I have overruled her detention and returned the lost house points to Hufflepuff."
Professor Sprout let out an, "hmph" but settled down.
"Speaking of Miss Rodger's, what are we going to do about that new tic of hers?" Professor Flitwick said. "She's been going around shouting You-Know-Who's-Name in the halls!"
Professor Dumbledore grinned. "Ah, yes, I've found that one most amusing of all, in fact-" his words were cut off by a loud rapping sound at the window.
"What on earth? Is that a bald eagle?" Mcgonnagal asked. "And my goodness! It's carrying a howler!"
"The American Wizarding Association can be so dramatic." Dumbledore said. He opened the window and took the scarlet red envelope addressed to himself from its beak." He returned to his desk and raised an eyebrow at the group. "Everyone ready?" They all nodded, grim expressions on their faces. Flitwick had his hands covering his ears. Dumbledore opened the envelope and watched it come to life.
"DUMBLEDORE! HOW DARE YOU GO BEHIND OUR BACKS! YOU HAD NO BUSINESS INTERFERING IN OUR DECISION! SHE CANNOT CONTROL HERSELF AND IS THEREFORE A THREAT TO THE SECRET OF OUR EXISTENCE! YOU HAVE 72 HOURS TO SEND HER BACK TO AMERICA OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO TAKE EXTREME MEASURES!"
Once the letter had finished yelling, it ripped itself into pieces before bursting into flames.
"Now, whoever could they be referring too?" Dumbledore said.
"Well, what are you going to do?" Mcgonnagal asked.
"Absolutely nothing." Dumbledore said with a smile. "Professor Sprout, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Rodgers tomorrow night to the hospital wing for a physical? I noticed she wasn't added to the roster with the other first years, and I don't believe she has been seen yet."
…..
Olivia let out a frustrated grunt. No matter what she did, or how many times she tried, nothing would happen. The type of spell didn't even matter. Nothing ever happened. Even Neville Longbottom was starting to leave her in the dust. Even he had managed to wiggle his feather.
Olivia lowered her head on top of her arms on her desk. She had been here a week already, and she hadn't managed a single spell. She couldn't make anything happen unless she physically manipulated an object, and the other kids were starting to notice.
Olivia glared over at the Gryffindor side. Granger was showing off again, making her feather levitate off her desk for the twentieth time that lesson. At least Olivia wasn't the only one who looked like they were on the verge of loosing it, she could see the red-headed boy that followed Harry around like a lost puppy looking like he wanted to stuff his feather down her throat. Olivia kind of wished he would, if she had to hear her say, "It's Levi-O-sa, not Levi-o-SA" one more time she would do it herself.
"Ms. Rodgers, care to join the rest of us?" Olivia jumped as the tiny Professor Flitwick, all three foot six inches, appeared at her eye level, "Go on, I want to see you give it a try." Olivia pleaded with him with her eyes as the class watched on in amusement, but it seemed his understanding of non-verbal cues was as grand as his height.
Olivia reluctantly picked up her wand before pointing it at the feather. Swish and flick. "Windgaurdiam Leviosa." Nothing happened.
"One more time." Professor Flitwick said. Again, nothing happened. "Hmm," he seemed lost in thought for a moment. "The hand movements are right, the incantations perfect." He stroked his mustache. "Are you sure you want the feather to move?"
"Are you sure you're not just doing it for attention?" "Do you even want to get better?" "Are you really trying not to tic?"
"Professor, what do you expect? She's a muggle!" a voice called out from behind her. Olivia ground her teeth. His voice sounded plugged, but she recognized it anywhere. Justin Finch-Fletchley, the one person she couldn't stand even more than Granger. They had been at each other's throats since the night she couldn't stop yelling Voldemort's name in the Great Hall.
She had been walking through the Hufflepuff common room up to her dormitory when she overheard him telling another group of students it was people like Olivia that gave Hufflepuff such a bad reputation as useless.
She may or may not have overreacted. Punching him in the jaw seemed like a good idea at the time. More fists and words were exchanged between the two of them, and when Hannah had shouted, "Olivia, your wand! Use your wand!" when Olivia had jumped on his back in an attempt to bring him down, she had done the first thing that came to mind. She had shoved it up his right nostril from behind, nearly cauterizing it closed.
"I meant use magic!" Hannah had nearly yelled at her after.
Her wand didn't seem to like anyone else but her touching it, and it had a bad habit of burning anyone it came into contact with. Olivia couldn't fathom how she had avoided getting in trouble, her only guess was Justin was too embarrassed he had lost a brawl with a disabled girl and hadn't ratted her out despite needing Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, to magic him a new nose hole. It looked a bit larger now, leaving his nose looking lopsided, and he needed to stuff a tissue inside to staunch the flow of a now constant trail of snot that poured out.
Olivia was about to fake throw her wand at him, when something caught her attention. An envelope had been stuffed under the classroom door and had begun to lazily float through the air and make its way toward her. Now, why couldn't mail be delivered this way?
She had been in awe on the first morning when a great flock of owls made its way over the great hall and had begun dropping gifts and letters to their owners, that was until one of them had left her a gift of its own- a half-eaten mouse, which had fallen down and landed in her plate of eggs. She'd take a bored sounding member of staff mispronouncing everyone's name over getting showered with animal carcasses and owl droppings any day.
The wizarding world seemed to prefer aesthetic to practicality, and Olivia was one spilled ink pot away from writing home and begging her parents to send her a box of pens. Tics and liquid ink were a terrible combination. She had at once even considered spamming her old principal with sinister sounding threats and curses, because the thought of her receiving multiple letters, by owl, stating that she and all her descendants were cursed for all eternity sounded brilliant. Olivia decided against it, though. She didn't think Dumbledore would appreciate her sending half the school's owls on a transatlantic flight for a prank.
Olivia tore open the letter when it landed on her desk. She frowned as she read it and sighed. It was from Professor Sprout asking her to meet her after dinner at the Hospital Wing and to make sure she brought all of her medication. Why did she have to go to the Hospital Wing for? On a Friday night, no less. She had been looking forward to curling up in bed with a book. She had found a fascinating one in the school library's fiction section, about the forbidden love affair between a house elf and a goblin, and it was a wild train wreck from the start. Wizards didn't seem to believe in parental guidance ratings, or book banning, and Olivia was loving it.
When Olivia made it to the Hospital Wing with a knapsack full of clanking bottles, Professor Sprout was already waiting for her. She appeared to be deep in conversation with-. Olivia's heart dropped. A nun. What was a nun doing at a school for teaching witchcraft!? Her heart started racing. What if Professor Sprout realized Olivia didn't have any magic and was trying to pass her off to another Catholic school? Her habit was red instead of black, but she figured it was a cultural difference, the British seemed a strange lot to her anyway. Who ate beans for breakfast, really?
"Ah, Miss Rodgers! Good, you're here." Professor Sprout said, turning her attention towards her. Olivia played with the idea of bolting, but thought better of it. Running anywhere in this castle was a terrible idea. Between the staircases that moved, and Peeves the Poltergeist leaving random assortments of items lying on top of the stairs for the students to trip over and kill themselves, the most Olivia could do was shuffle. "This is Madam Pomfrey, the school matron." Huh? A matron? What's a matron? Her puzzled expression must have given her away, because Professor Sprout then added, "Like what you Americans would call a school nurse."
Olivia's lips formed the letter O. Sweat began to form on her brow. Maybe they had called her here to interrogate her about Fletchley's nose. She eyed them both cautiously, wishing her face didn't always scream, "GUILTY." Maybe, if she could just-
"I stuck a cube of cheese up Fletchley's nose and made him my bitch!" Olivia ticked. She closed her eyes and grimaced. It was partially true.
"I had a good look at that boy, and after thorough examination, I can assure you, I did not find any evidence of cheese." Madam Promfry said. Olivia looked away. She wasn't sure if she was serious or not, given her absolute deadpan delivery.
"We will discuss the incident involving Fletchley later, Miss Rodgers, don't think I'm letting you off the hook, but for now, you're here because you never received an incoming physical." A physical? Was that all? It sounded so, so very. Ordinary. Couldn't they have just magicked everything from her old school? They probably wanted vaccination dates, and she didn't have any of that.
Olivia had been partially right. They did want vaccination dates, but instead of tetanus, Rubella, and Hepatitis, they were looking for things called Scrofungulus, Dragon Pox, and Spattergroit.
"Umm, none?" Olivia said, looking over the list. "I've only had the normal ones."
"Normal ones for muggle's." Professor Sprout chirped in.
"You'll need those, but first let's go over your health conditions and see what medications you're on. You did bring them with you, correct?" Olivia nodded and lifted her knapsack. "Go ahead and put them on the table and-" Madam Pomfrey let her words fall. Her face fell when Olivia began pulling numerous orange bottles out of her bag and onto the table until nearly every service was covered.
"Bloody hell, girl, did you rob a muggle pharmacy before coming here?" Professor Sprout asked.
"They're just my normal meds." Olivia said with a shrug. "Sometimes more, sometimes less. They change quite often."
Madam Pomfrey let out an exasperated sigh. "There's always one of you every year. Muggle doctors and their drugs. You should have been taken to a healer! There's no way I can vaccinate you with all this in your system! You'll have to stop them immediately."
"I can't just stop them! I'll get sick!" Olivia said.
"How's your magic? Any trouble casting? I understand you're new at this, but-"
"Yes!" Olivia nearly yelled. "I can't make anything happen! I haven't been able to cast a single spell on purpose!"
"Well, it's no wonder you can't with all this garbage in you!" Madam Pomfrey walked over to the bookshelf and pulled a large volume called, "Muggle Maladies" down and flipped to the table of contents. "What was it they said you had?"
"Tourette Syndrome, depression, anxiety, OCD, ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorder, Asperger, Delusions of grand-Wait a minute!" Olivia said with a scowl. "I'm not delusional! Magic is real!"
"It just means you were self-aware enough to know there was something different about ya." Professor Sprout said. "Hufflepuff gets the most muggle born students out of any house, and I've heard stories that'll curl your toes."
"Well, the good news is most of these things will resolve themselves once you begin using magic properly. Most of these are common muggle labels for children who don't know they're magical. The untapped magic bounces around inside you, and with nowhere to go, it can cause a chaotic mess of symptoms." Madam Pomfrey explained. Olivia's eyes lit up. Would this really help her tics? Her neck jerked to the side from the excitement of it all. "Well, the first thing I'm going to need you to do is strip."
Olivia scowled. Always with the stripping. Once undressed, now shivering from the cold in the drafty room, Madam Pomfrey instructed her to turn around. She heard her mumble something, and a peculiar sensation came over her. She could hear the two women gasp behind her.
"She's almost completely blocked!" Professor Sprout said. "Is this really just from medicine? No wonder she can't cast!"
"I've never seen it this bad before. She'll need to be detoxed tonight."
"What is it? What are you looking at?" Olivia asked. Madam Pomfrey pulled a screen out and handed Olivia a mirror. She let out a gasp. Her back was glowing!
"Magic is supposed to flow throughout your body evenly, but with you, it's collected in pools to the point there is no flow at all."
"So, that's bad?" Olivia asked.
"Only if you're a witch or wizard." Madam Pomfrey said. "Now, let's see which is the culprit." She turned to the pile of pill bottles and waved her wand. Olivia was astonished when one of them began to shake violently. Madam Pomfrey picked it up and began to examine it. "Do you know what this one's for?"
Olivia looked at the label and read, "Supprimere." She shrugged, it was one of the newer ones. In all honesty, she didn't know what half the stuff was for.
"Isn't that Latin for-" Professor Sprout began to say.
"Yes. I'll have to bring it to Dumbledore's attention. For now, though," Madam Pomfrey turned her attention back to Olivia. "You'll have to stay the night here, I'm afraid." Olivia frowned. She watched the woman begin to dig through a cabinet and produce a small black vial. "Before I give this to you, let's finish with the routine assessment." Olivia's face fell when she saw
The floating measuring tape. Not again!
"Why on earth did you need to measure my butt hole?" Olivia asked, now dressed in pajamas and lying in one of the hospital beds. That had been even more evasive than the measuring tape at Madam Malkin's.
"How do you think we give vaccinations in the wizarding world?" Professor Sprout asked. Olivia let out a horrified gasp.
"Pamona! Really?" Madam Pomfrey said. "Don't listen to her! It's for emergencies, in unconscious patients who can't swallow." Olivia relaxed a little. And here she thought getting a shot was bad. "Now this." Madam Pomfrey said, holding the black vial from earlier. "Is going to purge everything out of your system overnight." Olivia scowled. She didn't like the sound of that. "Mostly through sweating, although, given how many things you were on, it maybe a little more unpleasant than that, so you'll need to stay here under observation, just in case. Now open your mouth and lift your tongue."
She was hesitant at first, until Professor Sprout reminded her she'd be able to cast come Monday.
"Better to do it now, and have the whole weekend to recover." Madam Pomfrey said. Olivia tentatively opened her mouth. The moment the drops were placed under her tongue, her mouth began to burn. She could feel it making its way through her body, leaving a glistening trail of sweat on her skin as it went. Olivia felt as if she was running a high fever. She began to shake from the cold and wrapped the blankets tighter around her.
Once Madam Pomfrey was satisfied the process had begun and returned to her office, Professor Sprout slipped something into her hand. She looked down at it. It almost looked like an Aloe Vera leaf, but instead of gel, it was filled with liquid.
"If it gets to be unbearable tonight, bite into it and suck out the water." Olivia could see her eyes scanning the room to make sure no one was around. "Just, uh, don't tell anyone I gave it to you."
What a strange school, Olivia thought as she sat shivering alone in the now empty room. Teachers who could transform into cats, names you couldn't say, food prepared by house elves who, according to a certain book, were "hung like centaurs" underneath their dirty smocks. To top it off, she was fairly certain her homeroom teacher had just slipped her drugs she was growing in one of the greenhouses. She couldn't wait to see what changes would happen come Monday.