After the debacle at Flourish and Blotts, the Dahls parted with the Weasleys and adjourned to a nearby restaurant for cucumber sandwiches and something called pumpkin juice, which was surprisingly more delicious than the name implied. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Hilda," Johanna said, swirling the juice around her cup.

"Why was that man so rude?" Hilda asked. "We didn't even do anything to him."

"There's a little bit of prejudice in the wizarding world, as I'm learning," Johanna explained. "There are some, the Malfoys for example, who dislike people based solely on their magical heritage."

"That's ridiculous," Hilda grumbled. "We've done nothing wrong."

"I know, honey."

"I'll show them," Hilda sat up, puffing her chest out. "I'll be the best witch I can be, and show those snobby wizards they're full of air."

"I'm sure you will," Johanna said, patting Hilda on the head. "Now, let's go and get the rest of your supplies."

The rest of the day went without major incident. Hilda and her mother visited the necessary shops; picking up a cauldron from the apothecary, robes from Madame Malkin's, even a toy shop where Johanna bought a wizard chess set. Finally, they stopped outside of Ollivander's. "Do you want me to come in with you?" Johanna asked.

"I'll be alright."

"Ok, I have to go and pick something up down the street. Alfur will go in with you."

"C'mon, Hilda!" the elf leapt off of Johanna's shoulder to Hilda's. "Let's get you your wand!"

Hilda entered the shop. Rays of sunlight illuminated the dust floating in the air, landing on shelves behind the counter stacked with boxes to the ceiling. She walked up to the counter and peered over it, looking for a shop attendant. "Hello?" she called out.

"Good afternoon." The man had seemingly appeared from thin air, fingers splayed on the counter as he leaned over to get a look at Hilda. "A first year? Here for your wand?"

"Y-yes," Hilda stammered. "I'm Hilda Dahl."

"Ah, a Dahl! I sold a wand to your grandfather, many years ago. Yew, eight-and-a-half inches, phoenix feather core."

"You remember my grandad?"

"I remember everyone who's ever bought a wand from my establishment." He then looked to the girl's shoulder. "Are you aware there is an elf on your shoulder?"

"You can see me?" Alfur asked, surprised.

"I've long been in contact with the hidden folk," Ollivander replied, smiling. "They tend to cluster around trees of good wandmaking quality. Hold out your dominant arm please, Miss Dahl." Ollivander produced a roll of measuring tape, which began to take the measurements of Hilda's arm and hand on its own accord. "Hmm, I think I might have something for you," the old man said before vanishing into the shelves. He returned with a box, from which he removed a wand and handed it to Hilda. "Give it a wave."

Hilda obeyed. "No, not that one," Ollivander muttered, taking the wand back and returning to the shelves. "This sometimes takes time."

"What was wrong with that one?"

"It didn't fit you. The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Dahl, not the other way around. Let's see… here's another."

They went through a half-dozen wands, each failing to pass Ollivander's standards. "No, no, no," he muttered, going back to the shelves, tossing boxes to the floor as he searched. "Too short...too long...too crooked...too yellow." He stopped, placing his hand on one of the boxes. "Hmmm," he ran his long fingers over the lid, eyes staring off into the distance. "I wonder." He picked up the box and brought it to the counter. "Here, try this one. Ash, 8 inches, raven feather core."

Hilda pulled the wand from the box and waved it in the air. A blue, misty light like the one that had come from her Hands in the bookshop emanated from the tip, rising into the air. Ollivander clapped his hands together and gave a cry of excitement. "Amazing! For generations, my family has been guarding that wand, waiting for its proper owner to come through those doors."

"What's so special about it?" Hilda asked, inspecting it. She noticed the shaft was engraved with runes.

"That wand was given to my family by a wandmaker from the Scandinavian wilds," Ollivander explained. "Legend tells it comes from a branch of Yggdrasil, the Norse religions holy tree from which the universe was formed. It is a wand of great power, great darkness, too."

"Darkness?" Hilda glanced down at the wand. A strange heat seemed to emanate from it.

"Yes. Great things could be done with that wand. Terrible things as well. It all rests in the wand's caster, my dear. Your magical core is a peculiar one. There is great darkness within you, but also great kindness."

"What does that make me? Evil?"

"Not necessarily. The wand chooses its wizard, but the wizard chooses what to do with his wand." With that, Ollivander's eyes lost their moonish intensity, and he sat up. "That'll be four galleons, please."

Hilda left the shop to find her mother holding something large in her arms covered in a black shroud. "Did it go alright?"

"Yep," Hilda said quickly. The wand pulsed gently in her pocket. "What's that in your arms?"

Johanna smiled. "A surprise." She pulled the shroud away, revealing a cage with a Great Horned Owl slumbering on a perch.

"Wow!" Hilda ran over to the cage and looked through the bars at the sleeping bird.

"Now I'll be able to send you mail at school."

"How did you afford this?"

Johanna smiled. "Your grandfather many secrets, it seems, one of which was that hen had my inheritance sitting in his vault at Gringotts. It seems we won't have to worry about money again."

Hilda hugged her mother. "I'm happy for you, mum."

As they made their way to the portkey point, Alfur crawled up Johanna's side, resting on her left ear. "Are you not going to tell her about the journals?" he asked in a low whisper.

Johanna shifted uneasily. "Not yet," she whispered back. "When she's old enough to understand, then."

"Your grandfather wrote all of these books?" Frida asked, picking a volume out of the crate and inspecting it (Nidhogg, Asgard & the Myth of the Tesseract) with curiosity.

"Yeah! He knew all about magical creatures. He and his friend Scamander did loads of research together, traveling all over the world!"

David, who had been skimming through a copy of How to Ride Woffs, looked up. "He sounds like he was just like you, Hilda."

"I know! I can't wait to see some of the creatures he talks about in his books! Maybe I'll get to see ones he'd never met!"

"Some of these creatures sound dangerous," Frida noted. "Like these dragons."

"The Lindworm wasn't dangerous."

"Only when we gave her those weeds from the forest," Frida pointed out. "She was prepared to barbeque us before that."

"My grandfather says in his books that magical creatures have their own unique moralities and perspectives. We know that, but by learning about them, we see the similarities outnumber the differences."

"I guess you're right," Frida said. "So, did you two get your wands?"

David pulled his wand from his pocket, "I did! Holly, nine inches, unicorn hair. Hilda, what about yours?"

Hilda smiled. "Same."

Frida frowned. "But Ollivander said that no two wands are alike."

"Well, not exactly the same, but similar," Hilda lied. The wand pulsed again in her pocket. "Can you believe school starts in just two weeks?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I can hardly wait!" Frida said. "I've been reading all about the school in Hogwarts: A History. Did you know the lake by the school has a giant squid?"

"Wow! I can't wait to see it!"

"Knowing you," David said, "I'd be surprised if you don't end up befriending it."

The three friends laughed together, and the conversation soon drifted to more mundane topics for the rest of the evening.

From the Daily Prophet, September 1st, 1992:

Malfoy Manor raided!

The portkey deposited the Trolheim students and their parents right beside the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express. David, his face the color of an unripe tomato, hurried over to a trash bin.

"I hate portkeys," Frida said, her heart still beating.

"I know the feeling. It's like getting sucked down the drain with the bathwater," Hilda agreed.

"That was my biggest fear when I was little," David said, rejoining them. "I was afraid of baths for years."

Johanna came over, dragging a traveling case behind her. "You'd better get on the train, Hilda. I'll send you an owl as soon as I get back home."

Frida's parents hugger her goodbye. "Don't let your excitement for this new experience impact your performance," her father said.

"I won't, dad."

"Goodbye, David," his mother said. "We packed extra blankets for you. A stone castle might get draughty in winter."

"Thanks, mum."

"Hold on, sweetie. There's a bug on you." David's father picked the spider off his son's jumper and flicked it away. "There you are. Have fun, and stay safe."

The students boarded the train just as it began to chuff out of the station, waving from the door to the parents until they left Platform 9¾ in the cloud of steam from the train's engine.

Hilda, Frida and David made their way through the corridors, looking for an empty compartment. While most were already taken, they managed to find one occupied only by a young, blond girl with peculiar turnip earrings. "May we sit here?" Frida asked.

The girl lowered her magazine and smiled. "Of course, watch out for the nargles, though."

"Nargles?" Hilda asked, looking around the empty compartment.

"They like to hide under the seats," the girl explained.

Hilda frowned, but placed her trunk above the seats and sat down. "I'm Hilda. This is Frida and David."

The girl shook Hilda's hand. "I'm Luna Lovegood."

"What're you reading?" Frida asked, gesturing to the magazine.

"The Quibbler," Luna explained, handing it over for Frida to examine. She opened to the first article and read the headline: Bigfoot purchases vacation home in Devon! Photos on page 11! "It has all the stories no one else will publish."

"Interesting," Frida said, closing the magazine and handing it back. "Why won't anyone else publish them?"

"Because it's all 'fake news' if you'll believe the Prophet," the girl said. "I'm used to it, though. If my dad and I hadn't seen the nargles with our own eyes, we'd think they were imaginary, too."

"What do nargles look like?" David asked.

"Well, they're invisible, so no one knows."

The three children paused to take in the apparent absurdity of this statement. "Well," Hilda said finally. "It's nice to meet you. Are you a first year, too?"

Luna nodded. "I hope to be sorted into Ravenclaw, that's the house my mother was in." She pointed to Twig, snoozing in Hilda's lap. "Is that a deerfox? I've never seen one outside of photographs before. They're supposed to be good at warding off dark creatures."

"I don't know about that," Hilda said, rubbing Twig's back. "He's a good guardian, that's for sure."

The compartment door opened then, revealing Ginny Weasley, huffing. "Can I join you?" she asked. "My brothers are driving me mental."

"Of course," Frida said. "There's two seats left."

"Thanks." Ginny put away her trunk and settled in next to David. "Hello, Luna."

"Hi, Ginny," Luna replied. "The wrackspurts are all over you this morning."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." The redhead glanced over at Hilda rolled her eyes. "Have you seen Ron and Harry? We were separated from them at the platform."

"I can't say we have," Hilda replied. "You're looking for Harry?"

"No," Ginny said, blushing. "I was just worried, is all."

The compartment door opened again. "Have any of you seen Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?" Hermione asked, sticking her head in. The five first years shook their heads. "Merlin, where could they be? I've searched the entire train! If they missed it, they'll be in trouble with McGonagall."

"Well, you can sit with us," Hilda said, gesturing to the empty seat. "I'm sure they're alright. There'd be a protocol for students who miss the train, right?"

"I suppose." Hermione entered and sat down, sighing. "Those boys are nothing but trouble," she said, smiling in spite for her frustration.

"Have you met Luna Lovegood?" Hilda asked.

"Nice to meet you, Luna. Is that the Quibbler? Are you really reading that? The Prophet says its full of rubbish."

"My father owns the Quibbler," Luna replied.

"...Oh. I'm sorry."

"No worries. If you ask me, it's the Prophet that gets everything wrong. That Rita Skeeter is a liar."

They were saved any further disagreement by the arrival of the snack trolley. "Anyone want sweets?" the witch asked?

"Sure!" Hilda said, fishing in her jacket for some coins.

"I don't have any money," Ginny said, blushing again.

"No worries, we'll share."

For the next few hours, the six students ate their sweets and chatted amongst themselves. Hilda found three chocolate frog cards: one Dumbledore, one Godric Gryffindor, and one Newt Scamander. "My grandad knew him," Hilda said, showing Luna the Scamander card.

"Really? I met him with my father at a book signing once," Luna said. "He was very nice; he promised my father he'd add a section on nargles to his next book, but I think he forgot."

"Hilda, I got a card with your grandad on it!" David said, handing it over to Hilda. Hilda took it and read it eagerly:

Rasmus Dahl: 1901-?

Considered one of the preeminent experts on magical creatures, Rasmus Dahl worked closely with fellow researcher Newt Scamander for the collection of specimens in preparation for Scamander's first book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. A celebrated writer in his own right, Dahl published dozens of books on the wildlife and mythology of his native Trolheim. His unsolved disappearance in the Northern Wilds of Scandinavia in 1980 has led to endless speculation.

Above the short biography was a moving portrait of a smiling, white-haired man in a leather traveling robe, pockets stuffed with parchment and maps, a mischievous twinkle to his green eyes. The portrait caught Hilda's gaze and gave her a strange look. "May I keep this?" she asked David. "I'll trade you my Dumbledore card."

"Sure."

The compartment door opened. "We're arriving at the station in a half-hour," a red-haired prefect said, peering in. "You'd all better change into your school robes."

"Thanks, Percy," Ginny replied, returning a small black leather journal to her bag. "Shall we all take turns using the compartment to change?"

When it came to Hilda's turn, she opened her trunk and noticed something odd at the top of her folded clothes. It was another traveling trunk the size of a snuff box. "Alfur?" she asked, picking up the trunk.

A sub-compartment in the trunk lid unzipped itself, and a small head emerged. "Hilda! Surprise!"

"What are you doing in my luggage?"

"The elf council asked me to come along with you to Hogwarts, so I can send reports back to them," Alfur replied. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I'm glad to have you with me, Alfur. Now get back in that pouch and don't come out until I've finished changing."

Hermione took her seat at the Gryffindor table and looked up and down the seats. "Fred, George?" she asked the two identical twins next to her. "Have you seen Ron or Harry?"

"Can't say we have, Hermione," Fred replied.

"We've been too busy—" George continued.

"—Trying to smuggle dung bombs into the Slytherins' luggage."

Hermione rolled her eyes and directed her attention up to the staff table. Professor McGonagall took the lectern and cast a Vox. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, students! Now that we are all gathered, let us bring in our incoming first years. This new batch includes thirty students from Trolheim, so be sure to give them a warm welcome!"

The doors to the Great Hall swung open, and the new students came in. At the lead, a blue-haired girl strode forward, clothes soaked, a beaming smile on her face. Hemione leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder as she passed. "What happened to you?"

"She fell off the boat," David replied, stopping alongside Hilda.

"The giant squid put me back in!" Hilda added excitedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Must happen at least once every year," she muttered before casting a spell to dry the girl's clothes off.

"A singing hat!" Hilda whispered to David and Frida as the singing died down. "I have so many questions."

"I'm sure he'll let you ask them when it's your turn," Frida replied.

"Aiken, Frida!" McGonagall read out.

"Wish me luck," the girl said, before striding down the aisle and taking a seat on the sorting bench.

The hat barely rested on her head a moment before making its decision. "RAVENCLAW!" The table in blue applauded as Frida smiled and hurried over to join them.

"Andersen, David."

"I'm nervous," David whispered.

"Don't be," Hilda said.

"What if it realizes I'm not magical?"

"Come along now, Mr. Andersen," McGonagall said, beckoning the boy forward.

David walked to the sorting bench, knees shaking under his robe, and sat down. The hat fell upon his head. "HUFFLEPUFF!" He gave a sigh of relief as the hall applauded him.

As a few more names were rattled off, Alfur popped his head out from under Hilda's hair and noticed her expression. "What's wrong, Hilda?"

"Frida and David were sorted into different houses," Hilda replied. "I thought we'd be sticking together."

"Dahl, Hilda!"

Hilda gave a start, then looked around the hall. Aside from a few whispers of recognition, the students watched her silently. From the Gryffindor table, Hermione smiled reassuringly and gave her a thumbs up. Taking a deep breath, Hilda made her way to the sorting hat.

"My, my," the hat whispered as it slipped down past her ears. "This is a curious one. So many qualities fighting for dominance. Hmmm, ambitious, I see, and that strange darkness in you. Slytherin would be a good fit. Yet you are also curious and loyal to your friends, so either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw would suit you just fine."

"But what about my friends?" Hilda whispered. "I can't choose one over the other."

"Hmmm, yes, you're certainly in a pickle there. It's not my job to manage your relationships, however. Yes, I'm starting to see it. So much bravery, stubbornness, a real knack for trouble, and getting out of it. I see, yes. Better be GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat was plucked from her head, leaving Hilda blinking in the light of the Great Hall. McGonagall put a hand on her shoulder. "Better join your table, dear," the witch said, smiling. Hilda got up and walked slowly over to the proper table. As she sat down, she craned her head to look for her friends. From the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, Frida and David waved to her, smiling.

The rest of the sorting passed without any great drama. Luna Lovegood was sorted into Ravenclaw, taking a seat next to Frida. Last to go was Ginny Weasley, who was immediately placed in Gryffindor by the hat. She sat down between Hilda and Hermione, letting go of her held breath. "I was afraid I wouldn't be put in Gryffindor."

"Why?" Hilda asked. "The other houses don't seem so bad."

"My entire family has been in Gryffindor," Ginny explained. "Ron, Fred and George were teasing me that I might be put in Slytherin."

"What's so bad about Slytherin?" Hilda glanced over to the emerald table, spotting Draco Malfoy seated in the center. He glanced over to Gryffindor, as though searching for someone. When his eyes met Hilda's he gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Slytherin is notorious for producing dark wizards," Hermione explained. "They're a rotten lot, for the most part, especially Malfoy and his goons. Oh, look! Dumbledore is about to give his welcoming speech."

The headmaster stood up from his chair and came to the lectern, adjusting his half-moon glasses and surveying the assembled students. "Welcome, students. It is my sincere delight to welcome a new generation of witches and wizards to our halls. I have a few small announcements to make before we begin the feast. First, Mr. Filch has given me a twenty-foot long roll of parchment detailing all of the items forbidden from school property. You may find it posted outside of his office. In addition, we have some new staff from the magical community in Trolberg here. If you meet them in the halls, say hello, and feel free to ask them any questions you may have. I believe that is all. Now, Hemlock! Gobble! Vittra! Claptrap!"

"What?" Hilda asked.

"You'll get used to it," Hermione explained. "Would you like a pumpkin roll?"

Hilda looked down and gasped at the plates of food that had magically appeared on the table. "Wow," she whispered as the students around her began to dig in, momentarily forgetting her worries. "Magic is wicked!"

Hope you're all enjoying the story. It may seem like I'm updating at a breakneck pace, but I want to get as much content out as possible before my inspiration goes through one of its fallow seasons. I am trying purposefully not to paraphrase great chunks of the book, both to avoid boring readers and because I want to put my own spin on the Chamber of Secrets. I've read many a story that repeats the books ad infinitum, and while I don't mean to insult those authors, I find nothing novel or entertaining about it. That said, I hope this story is exciting and fresh. If you are enjoying it, please like, follow, and leave a review. For any questions, feel free to PM me, and I will attempt to answer your question in the next installment.