School: Beauxbatons
Theme: Ilvermorny
Prompts: 2) First day of school/term [Event] (Main Prompt), 6) OC [Original character], 18) Heartbroken [Emotion]
Year: 6
Word count: 3,489
A/N: Written for the International Wizarding School Championship. Thanks to Kvarta Sulless, Marauderette24, and Liz Jean Tonks for being lovely betas! And thank you for reading xx
Elida looked over at the ticking clock on her bedside table. It was morning, and she felt betrayed by its arrival.
She could smell the pancakes and syrup and bacon her mother was making in the kitchen. It was her favorite breakfast, but her stomach simply felt queasy.
She had been afraid of this, this very moment when she would have to get out of her bed and not re-enter it for months. She had been afraid of many things, recently and for as long as she could remember. Afraid of what her anger and sadness could cause. Of the unexplainable things that happened, things she didn't mean to do, broken plates and torn cloth and spilled milk that were all her fault.
One cold January day, a woman had mysteriously appeared at their home to explain. Her name was Mrs. Almara, and she was Headmistress of a school called Ilvermorny. She sat in their living room, wearing funny clothes and an odd hat, without much preamble telling them she was a witch and that their Elida was one too. She said something within Elida was different from her mom and dad and siblings, a force she could learn to channel over time once given instruction. Elida's father had been indignant, declaring this an unfunny prank. What she was saying was simply impossible. It wasn't until Mrs. Almara casually pulled out her wand and cast a spell to light a fire in the hearth that he realized this wasn't a joke to anyone.
And now Elida was expected to go away to a school where she knew no one, to live away from her home and her family and friends, to whom she couldn't give any reason for leaving other than to say she had been accepted at a special school. She wouldn't be there to listen to her mom sing along to Elvis on the radio, or have a milkshake at the diner after school, or play with her siblings on the farm until dusk fell. She had never been away from home before and didn't know what it would be like to live anywhere else. She was Elida Edwards, the second daughter and fourth child of Eugene and Clara, a post-war baby born in May, thoughtful, shy, and kind. She slept in a wooden bunk beneath her sister Maribel, loved to fetch the eggs in the morning, and her favorite subject was history. But that wouldn't be her life anymore. It was devastating.
A witch, she thought, unsure what to make of it. The only thing she could think of was a movie she had seen about a girl just like her, a girl from a farm who was whisked away to a strange world, one she did not belong in or understand. Her only desire had been to go home, for there was no place like it. She thought of the question Glinda had asked of Dorothy. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch? Elida knew which one she hoped she would be, but she didn't know how fully the world was divided between the good and bad, the question alone worrying. It meant bad ones must exist.
Elida didn't want to learn how to use magic. She just wanted it all to go away.
But that wasn't an option.
It all happened so quickly. Elida got out of bed, ate breakfast, and finished packing her suitcase with her few belongings. She said tearful goodbyes to her siblings and was soon in the back of the family car, gripping onto her ticket. Her father drove, his hands tight on the steering wheel, and her mother sat in the passenger seat. No one spoke.
They drove out of town to where Mrs. Almara had said a bus would come to pick up Elida. A few other families were there, the goodbyes bittersweet for the parents, joyous for the students. Elida didn't recognize anyone.
The yellow school bus finally pulled up, the black and white lettering of the license plate reading 'LVRMRNY'. Elida turned to her parents, allowing them to hug her tight before letting go, her mother's gentle, "I love you," in her ear the last thing she heard before lining up to get onto the bus. She didn't allow herself to look back.
Elida held her ticket in one hand and her suitcase handle in the other as she climbed the steps, fighting back hot tears. She looked up to hand the driver her ticket, but she recoiled in shock, her face betraying her emotion. Before her was a creature who looked like a small man, but was certainly unhuman. He looked up at her through small eyes, his long pointed ears hanging past his shoulder.
"Never seen a Pukwudgie before?" he rasped, his lips twitching. She didn't respond and simply held out her ticket. It flew out of her hand and into a pile beside him. "Grab a seat," he ordered, pointing his thumb behind him and looking away, his hand upon the large steering wheel in front of him. "There's a lot more of you to pick up."
She tried to calm herself as she turned away, looking down the aisle of a bus that was surely larger on than inside than was possible from the outside. There were nearly fifty students on the bus, with room for at least triple that. She met no one's eye, finding an empty seat halfway down the bus, her mind racing. She lifted her suitcase, struggling to fit it in the wire cage above her head.
"Here," said an older girl from the seat in front of her, "I'll do it."
"Thank you," Elida replied, her face white and bloodless as the girl took her suitcase and lifted it up. Elida sat down in the seat and pressed herself against the window. The bus began moving, and her last hope of holding onto her old life died away within her.
The girl in front was still looking at her over the seat.
"I'm Flora," she announced, looking down curiously at Elida, who only wished to be left alone.
"I'm Elida," she replied, her throat suddenly very dry.
"Are you from a No-Maj... a non-magical family?" Flora asked, feeling as though she already knew the answer.
"Yes," Elida squeaked. "Are you?"
"No - this is my sister, Permelia, and my brother, Auden," Flora said, gesturing to both of them beside her. They peeked silently at Elida over the back of the seat, all sharing brown curly hair and inquisitive, dark eyes.
The bus suddenly began speeding up, and Elida looked out of the window as they went faster and faster, the fields and trees whipping by. She quickly became alarmed, for surely they were going to crash, and there was nothing to hold onto.
"Don't be afraid," Flora said, noticing her anxiety. "The bus is enchanted to go fast - otherwise it'd take ages to pick everyone up."
The bus now outpaced everything else on the road, racing along and squeezing between cars. Elida was surprised they didn't collide and would have put her hands over her eyes if it didn't feel so childish.
Flora finally sat down, and Elida cast glances at the three in the seat in front. Flora didn't seem overtly magical or even odd. She could have been any normal girl in Elida's class at school, which both comforted and distressed her. How many witches and wizards were there? How many had she passed in the street without even knowing?
They stopped quite a few times, students of all ages coming onto the bus and handing over their tickets. For all anyone knew, they were just kids going to school, wearing normal clothes and laughing with their friends.
After some time, Flora turned back towards Elida, who was feeling queasy from the ride. "Trouble Gum?" she asked, offering a packet over the seat which proudly proclaimed 'Frightful Colors and Fantastic Flavors - or the Opposite!' "It'll help with your ears."
"My ears?" Elida asked, watching the driver pull down a lever. The "School Bus" plate at the front flipped over to now read "AirVermorny".
Elida was suddenly thrown against the back of the seat by the increased acceleration of the bus. She waved away the proffered gum, her palms going to her cheeks as she stared out the window. "Oh my - oh my," she repeated to herself, the ground suddenly drawing away beneath them as the other passengers cheered, the bus now airborne. She thought she might faint.
She watched as the road and fences and trees became smaller beneath them, their trajectory slowly turning to the northeast, her ears popping painfully. Although she was terrified, Elida couldn't look away. Over time she saw the twisting of the silvery rivers beneath her, watching as they became giant lakes, then vast swaths of forest and mountains. She had grown up in the plains where the sky and the ground seemed to meet right at the horizon, open and expansive before her, fixed and unchanging. She had never seen these things before.
"Are you okay?" a now familiar voice asked, breaking her attention. Flora had slipped into the seat beside her.
Elida could only nod her head, taking in the pretty blue of Flora's dress and the slight worry upon her face. She seemed unconvinced.
"Well, are you at least excited to go to Ilvermorny?" she pressed.
"I'm not sure," Elida murmured. "I don't know anything about it."
Flora seemed pleased to be able to at least help with this. "Well, it's an old school," she began, "older than the country. It's a huge castle, in the mountains. Just wait until the trees turn colors - it's really something," she said, gesturing excitedly. "There'll be apples in the orchards and huge pumpkins for Halloween... I think fall is my favorite season." She looked away. "But then, it'll be snowy for Christmas, and they'll bring in huge pine trees to decorate. The castle will be gorgeous. And then in the spring, there's wildflowers and the weather will be warm and wonderful, and we can go on walks again." She was lost in a reverie, in thoughts of the years she had already spent there. She brought herself out of it. "But anyway - when you get there first you'll be Sorted, and be Paired with a wand, and then we'll have a feast."
"Sorted?" she asked, unsure what Flora meant.
"Yes - you'll be put in the house you will do best in, a house which suits your traits. They all value different ones. Sometimes more than one house will want you, in which case you get to choose."
This alarmed her. "How could I choose, when I don't know what they are?"
Flora smiled. "Well, if it helps... My mom always told me a story about the houses when I was little. Would you like to hear it?" Elida nodded.
She cleared her throat and leaned in close.
"Four creatures from four houses decide to go camping in the woods.
'I'll lead the way!' said the Thunderbird, beating its wings, 'but I don't know how to get there.'
'I know the way!' said the Horned Serpent, the gem in its forehead glowing, 'but I cannot find my map.'
'I have a map, a tent, all the food we could need!' said the Pukwudgie, raising its arrow, 'but I cannot carry it on my own.'
'None of us can carry it on their own!' said the Wampus, roaring loudly. 'But if we share it four ways, we can make it by dark, and I will make sure no harm comes on our way.'"
She grinned, finished with her story.
"I like that," said Elida, giving a hesitant smile in return. She enjoyed the thought that each was important, but none as much as the group altogether. Quietly, she asked, "Which house are you in?"
"I'm in Horned Serpent. We earn and lose points for our house, take classes with them, and compete against them in sports. But we share the dormitories with our year, not our house, so I'm sure you'll be friends with some students from all of them." Flora gazed past Elida, and out the window at the setting sun. "You should probably get changed into your robes," she suggested. "I think we'll be landing soon." And as if upon her command, they began to descend slightly.
Flora went back to her seat and Elida changed into her robes, admiring the deep blue and cranberry-red of them, fastening them closed with the golden brooch. It wasn't long before she saw it - Ilvermorny - below them and among the clouds, like a castle in a fairy tale.
They landed. The bus stuttered to a bumpy halt not far from the entrance, parking alongside several other buses which had picked up students from other parts of the country.
Flora helped Elida reach her suitcase, then quickly joined the line to get off the bus, promising she would see Elida at the ceremony. Elida, filled with trepidation, didn't get into the line as quickly.
She stepped out of the bus and looked upon the imposing granite castle in front of her, feeling a twinge of fear once more. She moved to the side of the bus where everyone was depositing their suitcases and looked around, feeling a sinking despair. She became rooted to the spot as she watched the last students filter off the bus, feeling lost in the sudden twilight. She was no more certain about this than she had been before stepping onto the bus, now that she was alone again.
"Well, get going!" exclaimed an ancient looking Pukwudgie who suddenly appeared at her side, reaching to take her suitcase. "I've got enough to do without you standing in my way!" he admonished grumpily. She dropped the case and stepped backward in shock, painfully smacking her back against the bus.
It had all become too much. She suddenly burst into tears, feeling heartbroken, scared of what was to come, and lonely - so lonely.
"Hey, now," he said, waving his hands to soothe her. "I didn't mean to upset you. Shouldn't... you be heading up to the castle with the rest?" he suggested.
She looked miserable. "I don't want to," she cried, her pain too strong to contain any longer. "I didn't want to come here or leave home. I didn't..." she gasped, pitifully, not knowing what to say or why she was explaining herself to him. "I didn't... choose this."
"No," he said, looking slightly repentant, his wrinkled mouth downturned. "Perhaps not. You would not be the first to say as much." He paused. "But it chose you."
She seemed bewildered, looking at the castle again as though it were a living thing. "It chose me?"
"Yes, as I said." He stacked her suitcase upon someone else's, then snapped his fingers. She watched, her eyes becoming large, as they floated in mid-air onto a nearby trolley. "You have only tricked yourself into believing there is something to be afraid of. I can tell - we Pukwudgies know the ins and outs of trickery." He paused, adding more suitcases to the pile. "We also know if you can trick one way, you can trick the opposite. You can trick yourself into believing there is nothing to fear. It's easy enough." He faced her, his hands on his small hips, watching her wipe away her tears.
She gulped, unsure of his motivation or his magic, but knew there was a kernel of truth to be found in what his said.
"Now, hurry," he ordered, pointing up the path. "You'll be expected up in the entrance hall."
She turned to leave, then looked back at him. "Who are you?" she asked quietly.
He frowned again. "I do not share my name. You will learn soon enough that words and names have power, and I have no wish for others to wield their power over me." He looked up at her perplexed face. He sighed. "You can call me William. Now, go."
She turned and walked up the path, past two marble statues of a man and a woman, and slid through the gap in the doors. She joined the rest of the first years against the wall of the circular hall, above which was a glass domed ceiling. Mrs. Almara stood opposite the entrance, her hands holding a large scroll, while the older students stood in the wooden balcony above. Elida spied Flora, who had likewise found her, and gave a small wave.
She stared at the four statues in the center of the room, representing the four houses Flora had spoken of. She numbly listened to the names the Headmistress read aloud and watched the students Sorted before her. Aurelia Apple. Calliope Brune. Bernard Buxton. Zinnia Catton. Eleanor Cropper. Jack Dewey. Benedict Eccles.
"Elida Edwards."
She moved to stand on the Gordian Knot set in the center of the stone floor, again feeling faint and small, wishing she could disappear. She waited, the silence deafening.
The wooden carvings towered above her, each staring at her intently. The Thunderbird. The Horned Serpent. The Pukwudgie. The Wampus. Which one would want her?
She heard movement behind her and turned, watching the Pukwudgie raise his arrow into the air. She had been chosen.
Elida let out a breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding inside. She quickly moved away, allowing Augustus Finch to be Sorted next. She stared up at the carving of the Pukwudgie, wondering what it was it had seen in her, and whether someday she would know what it was. Whether she would be able to see it in herself.
When the last student was Sorted, Mrs. Almara invited a wandmaker into the hall. There was an excited buzzing now among the students, a relief that the Sorting was over and an interest in what was to come next.
The wandmaker spread his arms and before them, to many gasps of delight, appeared hundreds of boxes of wands sitting open upon the floor.
The students took the Pairing in turns again, this time backward from the end of the alphabet. Elida stood nervously as student after student found wands that did not agree with them, loud bangs and cracks evidence of their displeasure, all eventually finding one that suited. She watched Augustus, after endless deliberation, become Paired with a thin, tan wand after red ribbons shot out of the end of it. Now, it was her turn.
She walked again to the center of the room. The wandmaker stood beside her, his hands folded behind his back. He was old but slim and spry, looking much like a wand himself, a bowtie upon his neck and an expectant look on his face.
It felt suddenly as though they were the only two people there. He, very quietly, asked her the question he had asked all who went before her.
"Which one sings to you?"
She scanned over the many open boxes before her, not knowing exactly what he meant, but understanding enough to make a decision.
"This one, I think," she said, pointing to a beautiful, reddish wand at her feet. It had caught her eye as soon as she had seen it, and although she looked at others, she could not ignore it for long, as though it was fighting for her attention.
He picked it up and held it by the tip, offering Elida the intricately carved handle. After a moment she took it in her hand, expecting an angry hiss to issue from it in rejection.
Instead, she felt from deep within her an overwhelming emotion, a power, rising up and out through her hand. It felt light and good, joyous, every good emotion rolled into one. Even so, she was shocked to see golden sparks shoot out of the end. It had chosen her.
The wandmaker's eyes twinkled. "You will make beautiful magic with that wand; I am sure."
She smiled to herself as she went back to her place along the wall, tucking the wand into the slim pocket sewn into her robes. It was almost like a little friend, she thought, sitting there and keeping her company.
Once everyone had been Paired, the older students descended from the balcony and stood with the new, the smells of the Welcome Feast reaching everyone's noses as they intermingled. Mrs. Almara rose her wand and although no music played, the students began their own chorus, singing the words of the Ilvermorny school song written out in blazing letters above them. Elida joined in quietly, the tune easy to blend into even though she did not know it.
It was the last refrain that would stay with her. She hoped — with a desire stronger than anything — that she too would believe these words the next time she sang them.
Where'er we roam
Our one true home
Our one and own
Is Ilvermorny dear!