"Are you sure this is the right place? Platform nine and three quarters?"

Her mother, who had been putting the coins back into her wallet after buying Alex a sandwich—her lunch, she understood—barely looked up. "Of course. Platform nine and three quarters. The one and only."

"There's nothing there, mom."

Her mother grinned. It was disconcerting how much Alex had seen that grin despite her mother's obvious worry in the past twenty four hours; in her mind, Sophia Wilson smiled—tiredly, sadly, contently—but she never grinned. It was odd, how much being back in a society where she grew up changed her mother's behavior. She walked quietly but with certainty, never double-checking her directions or asking people hesitantly about what they wanted. Their drive from Leaky Cauldron to King's Cross had been brief and efficient, as her mother took various shortcuts that left Alex dizzy and confused. Even now in normal clothes, stowing away her wallet, her mother seemed stronger than she had in years.

"It's hidden, obviously. Otherwise Muggles would notice it and ask questions." Another oddity—the term Muggles, which referred to non-magical folks. It sounded odd coming from her mother, and even more so from Alex's own mouth. Alex was, in her mind, still not magical, an ordinary eleven-year-old girl waiting for her summer to be over so that she could go to the nearby secondary school. She was a Muggle. But apparently she wasn't. And that dichotomy left her far too insecure and unsettled.

"It's good that there are few people here today—that makes things easier. Come along, now." Alex followed, dragging her trunk behind her, clutching the handle tightly. Her mother took her other hand. They soon stood in front of a brick wall.

"Um," Alex said, now about to voice her next question, but her mother was having none of it; she dragged Alex forward with her, and before Alex could open her mouth to yell something—preferably something that would have the headmaster of her previous school scold her for violent language—the ear-deafening sound of a train whistle rung through the station. Alex opened her eyes, not having realized that she closed them.

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters," her mother announced, almost proudly. "Here we are."

Alex turned around to see the wall behind her. It was just a wall. She extended her hand. It was solid and cool and rough beneath her touch. She ran her knuckles against the wall just to be sure. Hard.

"That is Hogwarts Express," her mother said, looking around. "You don't need a ticket to board, which is a relief. In my days they used to—"

"Mom?" Alex looked at her mother, who was squinting at a far distance. No, not so far—at a family who was approaching them.

"Mom, who are they?" Alex asked, subconsciously drawing closer to her mother's side.

"That, my dear, is your dear old uncle and his family. I suppose we must say hello." Her mother gritted her teeth, as though the prospect of meeting her sibling was unwelcome to her.

The family in question were, in fact, quite wizard—at least so, by Alex's estimation; the parents both wore wizard robes, and even the boy, who looked about Alex's age, was already in his school uniform. The man did look a bit like her mother with his oval face and arching eyebrows, but the boy resembled his mother much more strongly. Alex looked at her mother again. She had a strained smile on her face.

"Sophie," the man said, his expression unfathomable.

"Charlie," her mother said tightly.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Likewise. You never told me that I had a nephew."

"I never got the chance."

"Right."

"Your daughter, I presume," he said, nodding at Alex.

"Alex. Alexandra Wilson. And your son?"

"Ben."

"Ah. Well." Sophia Wilson shifted her feet. "Alex, that's my brother and your uncle Charles, his wife Jen, and your cous—"

"No," Charles Wilson said curtly. Sophia Wilson raised her eyebrow. Alex knew that look—she did not like that look.

"No?"

"No." He inhaled, it seemed, with some effort. "You are not part of the family anymore. You made a choice thirteen years ago. You don't have a nephew. I do not have a niece."

"I would have thought," her mother said lightly, but the arm around Alex tightened. "That this silly feud between us was over."

"You thought wrongly." Charles turned toward his family. "You had better get on the train—otherwise you'll miss it."

"But—" the boy said, looking at Alex.

"Have I not made myself clear? They are not your relatives. Pay them no attention."

"I—" Ben was about to protest again, but his father steered them toward the other direction. He followed them, but not before he looked back at Alex and Sophia Wilson one last time.

"Well," her mother said after watching them go. "I must say that that went as well as I expected. Which, I suppose, is something I should be relieved about." She looked down at her daughter. "Ben seems like a nice enough boy, Alex. Say hello to him every once in a while, won't you?"

Alex nodded, but didn't answer, looking down at her shoes and scratching the soles against the floor.

"Charles was always a bit thick," her mother said brightly. "But he'll come to his senses soon enough, I hope. Pay him no attention."

"That's what he said about us," Alex muttered.

"It will be fine," her mother rubbed her shoulders reassuringly. "You're going to Hogwarts! Aren't you excited?"

"Are you?" Alex said a little irritably. "He was horrible, and you didn't want me to go to Hogwarts to begin with." Alex felt horrible for saying these things when her mother was actually trying to cheer her up, but she couldn't help it; the wave of pessimism came crashing down as the doubts she had for the last few weeks finally seemed to break loose. "Now even your own brother refuses to see us. What happened thirteen years ago?"

Her mother regarded her carefully. "Do you remember what I told you last night?"

Alex frowned. "Yes," she muttered, silently adding, it didn't help much.

"I mean it—you can't let them get to you, Alex. Be strong, darling. You'll be brilliant, I know it." Sophia Wilson held her daughter tightly, and it was only then that Alex realized that the train was about to depart, whistling loudly, urging everyone to come on board. Instantly she was filled with regret. Was this their good-bye?

"We'll see each other on Christmas, won't we?" Alex said, words muffled against her mother's shoulder.

"Of course we will."

"Stay away from Mr. Whitman, alright?"

Her mother laughed. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "I was thinking of subletting your room. And Mr. Whitman would pay the rent, I'm sure." Alex scowled.

"Write to me every week, you hear?" her mother said. Alex nodded.

"Hogwarts might seem a little intimidating at first, but it will be okay." Alex nodded again.

"I can't keep you much longer—now go!" her mother smiled widely at her, and Alex tried to reciprocate the smile. The train whistle rang through the station again and other students hastily climbed on the train. Alex looked back at her mother.

"Go!" she said, and Alex managed to smile before climbing up herself, dragging her trunk behind her. The train lurched, and she quickly held on to the railing, feeling her heart beat against her chest. As it slowly began to move, Alex looked at the crowd of families below her, all beaming and waving their hand. She thought she saw her mother face among them, but it was only for a second and then she was gone. Alex blinked hard a few times and for a good measure pinched the bridge of her nose before setting out to find an empty compartment.

Finding an empty compartment, however, turned out to be a more arduous task than she'd imagined. Everyone seemed to have a group of their own in which they laughed and made jokes—everyone seemed so normal and so far away, that Alex had to keep walking down the corridor. Finally, at the end of the train, she found a compartment with a boy reading a book. She reached for the door, feeling nervous and irritated at her nervousness.

"Um," she said. "I'm sorry, but would you mind if I joined you? Everywhere else's full."

The boy looked up. He looked a bit surprised at her entrance, his eyes wary, but nevertheless he smiled tiredly and said "Sure," gesturing at the seat opposite from him. Murmuring a half-embarrassed thanks, Alex tried to be as undistruptive as possible as she quickly put away her trunk and sat down with a book.

"I'm Alex," she said quickly. "Alex Wilson. And you are?"

"I'm Remus Lupin," he said. "I know, and funny name, isn't it? My Mum was going through a Classics phase when she was pregnant with me."

"I think it sounds nice," Alex said, hoping that she didn't in any way make Remus feel uncomfortable. Which probably did make him feel a little uncomfortable. Remus, on the other hand, didn't seem reluctant to make conversation.

"Are you a first-year as well?" he asked, and Alex nodded.

"You too?" she said, and he grinned.

"Yup. Pretty excited to go to Hogwarts—I didn't think that I would be able to attend, but..." he shrugged nonchalantly, but Alex saw him bite his lips, as though he had said too much. "What house do you think you'll be in?" he asked eventually, looking back at her with a wide smile. It was obvious that his excitement at going Hogwarts trumped whatever awkwardness they felt about each other, and Alex was beginning to find the excitement infectious.

"Um," she said, not comprehending. Remus's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," he said quickly. "You don't come from a wizard family, do you? I wasn't really sure, because you're wearing Muggle clothes, but most wizards these days are okay with wearing Muggle clothes in public, although some families do look rather ridiculous—but you look fine." Remus cleared his throat. "Sorry, I tend to babble when I'm nervous. Not that I'm nervous. At all."

Alex laughed. "It's fine," she said. "I think my mom's a witch, but I didn't know until summer, and..." she shrugged the same way he had, and Remus nodded in understanding.

"So there are four houses at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin," Remus explained. "Every student is Sorted into a house—there's a ceremony at the start of the year. They say that the bravest are sorted into Gryffindor, the smartest into Ravenclaw, the kindest into Hufflepuff, and the most ambitious into Slytherin."

"Where do you want to go?" Alex asked, her mind whirling. Slytherin. She thought she had heard it before… then it came to her, during her visit to Ollivander's shop: I must tell you that your father and brother did not take the news well when they were told you had run off with that Slytherin boy…

Remus flushed. "I don't know. Ravenclaw seems like the most obvious choice: both my parents are from Ravenclaw. I suppose Hufflepuff isn't so bad, they're really nice and some of my relatives were Hufflepuffs. Gryffindor sounds really nice, though."

"What about Slytherin?" she asked inadvertently.

"Slyther—oh, right," Remus grinned sheepishly. "I forgot again. I suppose Slytherins have their own merits, but not many people would want to go there. Most of the Dark wizards are from Slytherin, you know."

"Dark wizards?" Alex repeated.

"Blimey, you really don't know?" Remus said, his eyes wide again. Alex, against her will, flushed in embarrassment.

"Of course I don't know," she muttered. "I didn't even know that I was a… a wizard until this summer, now, did I?"

"Right, right, sorry," Remus said, looking a little abashed. Alex fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, feeling more and more embarrassed by his attempts to be considerate. She had a feeling that this was going to be a regular occurrence, and had a nagging suspicion that not everyone was going to be as patient as Remus was right now. "There are wizards out there who are… well, who are sort of terrorizing Muggles and Muggleborns… um, Muggleborn witches and wizards, that is," he quickly added, trying to clarify some terms. "They're, well, they're not really particular about using magic to hurt people. They're called Dark wizards because they use the Dark Arts."

"Oh," Alex pondered. "Why would they attack Muggles and, um, Muggleborns?"

Remus looked uncomfortable. "Because they think they're superior to them," he said at last, his eyes fixing on a spot between Alex's eyes.

"Why would they think that?"

Remus sighed. "It's ridiculous, obviously. These wizards—most of them are purebloods, which mean that their families have been around for a fairly long time in the wizarding society—think that they're better than Muggleborns or Muggles because they're magical and apparently the rest of us are not and because their blood is "pure." Which is ridiculous, 'cause most of them must have married some half-bloods or Muggleborns at one point in history. Otherwise, the inbreeding would have made them die out. Or insane." Alex listened carefully, trying to take the words in. It didn't make any sense—it sounded like some medieval tale of princes and aristocrats who wanted to keep themselves undefiled.

"That's stupid," she said.

"Well, obviously," Remus answered, "and most people think that, too, but the purebloods do everything to keep their position in the society—most of them happen to be pretty wealthy and influential," he said, smiling ruefully. "My dad calls it a vicious cycle: because they've been around longer, they had more time to form connections and organize things to their advantage."

"And most Slytherins are purebloods?"

"I mean, not all of them. There aren't that many purebloods in each year to begin with. And many purebloods don't believe in this idea either. But most Slytherins are purebloods, and most of them agree that they're better than others."

"Oh," Alex said. She wondered if her father was as bad as the picture that Remus described: elitist, discriminating, aggresive. Again she remembered her uncle's reaction to her and her mother at the station, Ollivander's wry comment about their flying off the handle when they heard that Sophia Wilson had run off with a Slytherin boy. But Ollivander didn't seem to dislike her father… quite the contrary…

"Don't worry about them," Remus said reassuringly. "They usually keep to themselves. I'm sure that they won't bother you too much."

"So your parents are wizards as well?" Alex asked, trying to divert her thoughts back to their current conversation. He nodded.

"My mom's a Muggleborn, and my dad's… well, he doesn't really know. He came from a wizarding family, and his parents came from a wizarding family, but who knows who was what. I guess you can say that I'm mixed." He shrugged. "I did have to go to a Muggle school until this summer, though. My mom wanted me to get "proper education,"" he quoted the last two words, rolling his eyes.

Alex grinned. "What, you don't think arithmetics is an important part of your life?" she asked. Remus grinned back.

"Well, it is helpful at times, I suppose. Muggle history is fascinating, and I also liked the Muggle literature quite a bit, but it's difficult not to blurt out 'Merlin' or 'broomsticks' when you watch other boys play soccer," he smiled ruefully, as though trying not to look condescending. "It's really nice, though, because whenever we visit my mom's family on holidays, I can talk with my cousins and grandma prettily easily—my cousins don't know that my mom's a witch, you see. Her siblings know, but they're not allowed to tell. My dad's lost whenever we have these gatherings so he's always helping my mom out by cooking." He shook his head.

So they continued talking for quite a while. Remus showed her the book he was reading: Hogwarts, a History by Bathilda Bagshot ("it's really fascinating, the castle's been there for ages, and I can lend you the book if you'd like—"), tried to explain the intricate beauty of Quidditch ("it's a bit like Muggle soccer, but the players are on brooms, of course, and there are four balls, instead of just one—"), and got into an argument about the best Muggle sweet ("Mars bars, obviously," and it was the only point on which Alex could agree) when the compartment door opened and a plump witch smiled sunnily at them from the doorway.

"Would you like something to eat, dears?" she asked brightly. Alex looked out the window, and realized that it was almost mid-afternoon. How strange, that time flew by so fast.

"Um," Alex looked at Remus for help, but he had busied himself with his jacket and was looking at his lap when he muttered that he brought his own lunch.

"I also brought my lunch," Alex said to the witch. "I guess if there's anything to drink—" her mother had given her a couple coins before they left Leaky Cauldron—in case if you need it, she said—and Alex wasn't sure if there would be enough money for her during an emergency if she spent it now.

"Oh! There's pumpkin juice, and butterbeer, too, although you don't seem quite old enough..." the witch went on, and after consulting Remus about wizarding currency (the system was still just nonsensical to Alex), Alex learned that pumpkin juice didn't cost too much. She bought two bottles of pumpkin juice and a box of chocolate frog to share, and he accepted her offering with an embarrassed thanks.

Alex took out a half-mushed sandwich from her pocket. This was the last thing that her mother had bought her before they said good-bye, and Alex felt a pang of guilt as she realized that she hadn't thought about her mother since sitting down with Remus. Her mother was probably on her way back to their home in a car alone, and she frowned as she carefully peeled the wrapper. It wasn't as though they weren't going to see each other ever again—Christmas break was only a few months away and she had promised to write to Alex every week. The tip of her nose itched horribly the way it always did before she burst into tears and Alex told herself to stop being a ninny.

The pumpkin juice turned out to be more refreshing than she'd thought, and they ate in relative silence. As much as Alex felt petty about her sentiments, she was a little relieved that she wasn't the only one going to Hogwarts who came from a less than affluential background—the boys she'd seen at Ollivander's, for example, looked as though they were used to not noticing little things like money, but Remus seemed to catch on quickly when Alex asked him about wizarding currency that she couldn't afford to be improvident about what she had. Remus's clothes, although clean and well-kept, were rather worn, and his trunk seemed like it had seen better days. But Remus seemed nice and smart and patient and despite his use of 'Merlin' every once in a while Alex realized that she would have liked him regardless of his backgrounds. If only some of the boys at her previous school had been as half as nice.

After eating, Alex carefully opened her box of chocolate frog. Immediately the frog leapt out of the box, and she and Remus spent a good five minutes trying to corner it before he finally managed to tear off one of its legs. The frog stilled at once. Taking a bite of its head (freakily enough the belly of the frog was filled with caramel, and the head with some sort of fudge that Alex liked) Alex examined the box.

"There's a card," Alex noted as she looked at the blank portrait on it. By now she wasn't noting every abnormality that she came across, but she did jump in surprise when a man walked into the portrait in an imposing costume.

"Chocolate frog cards," Remus answered, nibbling on the frog's belly. "They feature famous witches and wizards across ages. Who do you have?"

"Um, Merlin," she said uncertainly as she stared at the wizard's dark eyes. The picture seemed to stare back at her before disappearing from the portrait. "He looks creepy."

Remus nodded. "They say he was a bit of an oddball. I guess most great wizards are. Dumbledore—the current headmaster of Hogwarts—he's known for—well, it would take less time to show you." Remus opened his copy of Hogwarts, a History and began to leaf through it. "Architecture… Boarding… Guards… here it is. Headmaster." Alex moved to his side of the seat to get a better look. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. That's a picture of him right there." And surely, the moving portrait of Albus Dumbledore looked back at them over his half-moon spectacles and long, white beard tucked neatly around his waist. "Bizarre sense of fashion, even my grandmother doesn't wear that pattern anymore, but he is brilliant—"

"I'm sorry, but have you seen the trolley lady? I can't seem to find her anywhere," a voice came from the doorway preceded by a loud banging of the compartment door against the doorframe. "Oh, am I interrupting something?"

They looked up. In front of them stood two boys; one in front had dark, messy hair that stuck up in every direction and the other that stood behind him wearing an amused smirk was the boy Alex had seen in Ollivander's. Then the words registered with her, and she felt a faint blush creeping up her neck as she realized that she and Remus were sitting quite close to one another. Remus began to move himself as far away as he possibly could without seeming rude and Alex quickly went back to her side.

"She was here a while ago," Remus answered. "Why don't you check the front of the train? She probably needs to rest sometimes."

"Perfect idea," the boy with messy hair said, contemplating. "Hey, is that Dumbledore?" He pointed at the book in Remus's hand.

"Yup." Remus held up the book. "I thought I might get some reading done about the school."

The boy grinned. "Studious, aren't you? First year too, then? I'm James Potter and this is Sirius Black. And you are?"

"Remus Lupin," Remus said, shaking his hand.

"Alex Wilson," Alex said, also shaking James's hand, surprised. This boy seemed rather too friendly.

"Didn't I see you somewhere before?" the boy from Ollivander's asked suddenly, looking at Alex.

"Um," she said. "Yes. At Ollivander's. I think I dropped a pile of boxes on you. Sorry." The boy laughed a bark-like laugh.

"That wasn't me—that was my brother. But you're fine. My mom was quite livid about the incident," and somehow, this statement seemed to put her in his good graces. "He should have ducked away faster."

"So which house do you want to be sorted into?" James asked, and by the glint in his eyes, Alex surmised that he had been asking every first-year he came across this question.

"I'm not sure. Ravenclaw, probably," Remus held up the book as a proof. "You?"

James puffed up his chest comically. "Gryffindor, of course. My entire family's been there. Where the bravest hearts dwell." He paused. "This one's family's been in Slytherin for generations, if you can believe it," he said, patting Sirius' shoulder.

"I said forget about it," Sirius grumbled. Alex looked at Sirius more closely; from his mother's reactions to her in the shop, it would have been a fair guess to assume that he was from a pureblood family. But he didn't seem to have anything against her family and Alex decided not to push it.

"Well, nice meeting you all," James said. "But we really need to find the trolley. We made a bet—there is a vampire blood flavor bean in Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, and I'll prove it," with those words he marched out of the compartment. Sirius followed him, rolling his eyes at the two sitting and shaking his head. Remus quietly got up after they left and closed the door. He sighed

"Bloody mad, he is," he said, but he was smiling. "There's no vampire blood flavor bean in Bertie Beans."

"There isn't?"

"'Course not," Remus answered. "Everyone knows the red one's apple."

The rest of the train ride passed quietly and before long the dusk began to set outside the window. Remus excused himself to the bathroom while Alex changed and soon they were disembarking carefully into a rather chilly night air. It was lightly drizzling, and Alex felt silly, wearing a cloak, her wand carefully tucked inside, with a ridiculous pointy hat on her head. The had did protect her from the rain a bit, but it was still uncomfortable. She took it as a consolation that everyone else was wearing the same clothing as well.

"Firs' years! Firs' years! Follow me!" they heard a loud voice, and quickened their pace to keep up with a giant man leading the children.

"Who is he?" Alex whispered, trying not to stare obviously. He was tall, easily over seven feat and massive around the waist. Remus shrugged. The body of first years soon arrived at a dock.

"Three or four students fer boat, alrigh'?" Remus and Alex soon found a boat at the edge of the dock and settled themselves in. The rain was beginning to pour more strongly and Alex could feel the water running across the bridge of her nose before finally dropping from the end. She wiped it, but it didn't help.

"May we join you?" a friendly voice asked, and they looked up to find a bright-faced girl with auburn hair and a boy standing behind her. Wordlessly they scooched over to make room.

"I'm Lily Evans. This is Severus Snape." The girl seemed quite excited and happy despite the rain and she looked at them in turn, smiling widely. The boy—Severus—on the other hand, seemed more like a quiet sort. "And you are?"

"Remus Lupin," Remus said.

"Alex Wilson," Alex also replied. Something about the girl's smile made her feel at ease and yet put her on guard.

"Can you believe it? Hogwarts!" the girl chattered. "I read all about it, of course, in Hogwarts, a History, and I heard that the lake was used to breed several different types of aquatic creatures—you know, like an aquarium—do you think it's safe to cross it with boats? They don't look that sturdy." Alex opened her mouth to say something comforting—the bit of news alarmed her more than it seemed to affect Lily—but the boat started, and soon its rocking motion against the water made everyone in the boat quickly close their mouths. The water was indeed quite turbulent, and, with the thick rain, Alex could barely see in front of her. Suddenly, she heard a shriek.

"Wha—" she heard Severus begin to say, but the need for explanation became moot as they felt the boat rise from the water. Alex's grip on the edge of the boat tightened.

"Don' worry! 's jus' the squid havin' a little bi' o' fun, he won' hur' yeh!" The man's voice boomed across the lake, but that assurance did not help much as Alex saw the moon grow bigger. Lily quickly took out her wand. Alex considered her options. She could take out her wand, but she didn't know any spells. She sank lower into her seat and looked around; Snape also had his wand out but was having a hard time trying to see through the darkness, and Remus had glued himself to the floor of the boat. Apparently he had arrived at the same conclusion that Alex had.

"What do you think?" she shouted.

"Wait it out!" Remus said. "If what he says is true, then not much should happen, right?"

Then they felt their stomachs lurch as the boat dropped, some twenty feet from the air, to the dark lake.

Anyone who witnessed the sight of the first years as they emerged out of the lake into the castle grounds would not have been able to but feel a sense of pity. They were a sorry sight indeed; most of them quite short and slight, and soaked to the bones due to the rain and unexpected diving, they left a long trail of puddle that could have inundated a small garden as they trudged up the stone staircases of Hogwarts. Alex felt too tired and too cold to be sufficiently impressed by the size of the entrance hall, the intricate carving of the staircase rails, the gargoyles that adorned every nook and cranny of the castle. Remus was leafing through his copy of Hogwarts, a History with a worried look; it had survived the worst with the protection of his cloak, but it was still quite wet. Lily was trying to squeeze the water out of her long hair and Snape walked simply forward, unwilling to even acknowledge his wet clothing and hair. The reason for his apparent indifference became clear soon enough.

"Alright there, Snivellus?"a loud voice said, and several people sniggered around him. Alex turned to the source of the voice and found James and Sirius looking gleefully at Severus. "Managed to survive the dive, eh? Must say it's improved your hair quite a bit..."

"Shut up, Potter," Snape muttered lowly.

"What's their problem with you?" Alex muttered. James and Sirius seemed alright enough when she saw them.

"Who knows. I only met them today."

"They're arrogant bullies, obviously," Lily said indignantly as she shook the water from her head like a dog. "Ignore them, Sev. They're not worth our time." Alex looked around. It was the third time she had heard something along the lines: ignore them. She looked at Remus and he raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Well then, first years," Alex looked up to the voice and found none other than Professor McGonagall standing before them, an imposing figure not to be reckoned with. She swallowed as McGonagall swept an assessing look over them as though she could expunge their most mischievous intentions with a withering look. Alex had no doubt.

"You are late, Hagrid" McGonagall said at last.

"Sorry, professor, we came across one o' 'em squids, and it was rainin'," the man, Hagrid, said. McGonagall nodded.

"Very well." Then she took the wand from her robes and, before the students could say anything, dried off their clothes with a flick of a wand. "Now first years, follow me. The Sorting Hat has been getting impatient."

Alex looked uncertainly at the back of the students' heads that moved in front of her. No one said anything about a hat. It couldn't be more ridiculous than the one she was waring now, could it?