MAGIC KINGDOM

a Disney/Hogwarts Crossover Fic

02. BE OUR GUEST

Belle blinked and looked up from her book. "Pardon?"

A pair of near-identical grins were aimed at her from across the table. "Trust you to smuggle a book into the Sorting Ceremony," Henry said.

Belle Eglantier shrugged. "It isn't as if there's anything going on, yet," she said. "Professor Maeblieghe is probably only now meeting them on the dock."

Henry and Florian rolled their eyes in unison. "There's a comfort in your regularity, I suppose," Florian said.

Belle narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll thank you not to discuss my regularity," she replied, which got a round of laughter from both boys. She found herself smiling, too. It was easy to see how Henry Charmant and Florian Reizvoll had earned the nickname of "The Charming Twins" or "The Two Prince Charmings." They were virtually impossible to dislike, they were always in each other's company, and they were remarkably similar. Both belonged to old, old wizarding families-high nobility, really-and likely shared common ancestors. In fact, when the two first arrived at Hogwarts as eleven-year-olds, they were virtually identical. Of course, as puberty set them on their respective paths to adulthood, they became less and less outwardly similar, but could still pass for brothers.

Belle looked back down at her book as the boys chattered away with each other and the other Ravenclaws. She was rather glad the Ravenclaw table was positioned where it was, between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables. Though neither House was quite as reserved as Ravenclaws generally were, they weren't nearly as boisterous as the Gryffindors. It would be very difficult to concentrate on her reading if the noise were any nearer.

Of course, it wasn't just the noise.

The Hufflepuff table was a pleasant buffer between her and Gaston LeGume. The handsome sixth-year seemed intent on charming his way through the female student body, and Belle was apparently high on his list. In fact, every time she resisted his advances, she seemed to climb even higher. It wasn't that Gaston wasn't a good-looking young man; he certainly was. But his aggressive arrogance and narcissism overwhelmed whatever attraction he might have otherwise possessed. If he somehow managed to undergo a complete personality overhaul, Belle might've found herself very tempted. Sadly, this didn't seem to be in the cards.

Belle just knew that if her House's table was next to his, he'd have even more opportunities to make passes at her. Why he bothered with her when the Bontemps triplets practically draped themselves over him at every chance, she couldn't fathom.

Belle was distantly aware that the background noise in the Great Hall was shifting, and she dragged her attention away from the book. The huge doors at the end of the Hall were opening, and Professor Maeblieghe was leading in the new students, cane clicking on the stone floors. Belle couldn't stop her spreading smile as she looked at the awestruck faces of the incoming first-years. She remembered her own first day at Hogwarts: the beautiful, sweeping architecture, the animated portraits, the floating candlesticks, the ceiling enchanted to look like the open sky-she'd felt like her eyes would explode, trying to take it all in.

Professor Maeblieghe halted the troop of new students in the center of the Great Hall, the House tables flanking them on either side. The teachers all sat at a table on a raised platform at the end of the room, and in front of that was a shorter dais. Upon that dais was a stool, upon which was a pointed wizard's hat. It looked a bit rumpled, a bit tatty, and faded into an indeterminate mud color. Professor Maeblieghe made her way up to the shorter dais, and made a show of surveying the crowd with her sightless eyes.

"Now, before y'all can join your classmates, you have to be Sorted into your Houses," she said, and began a brief explanation of the whole House system. Belle had heard it all before, so she began to tune out again. She tuned back in, though, when Professor Maeblieghe gestured to the hat on the stool. This was always worth paying attention to.

The rumpled hat stirred. It straightened up. The wrinkles and patches and stitches suddenly gave the impression of a face. A rip opened near the brim, and a croaky voice sang out,

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But there's more than meets the eye!

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than I!

A millennia or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown

Whose names are still well known.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers.

Thus Hogwarts School began!

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng.

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way.

He whipped me off his head,

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will you

Where you ought to be!

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart.

Their daring, nerve and chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart.

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are loyal, kind and just.

Hard-working Hufflepuffs are true,

And worthy of your trust.

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning

Will always find their kind.

Or Slytherin, perhaps, is where

Your dreams will be made real,

If you've cunning, guile and vision,

And nerves of purest steel.

A final word, before we start-

When darkness hides the light,

Ignore all separation,

Stand together and unite!"

There was a round of applause for the Sorting Hat's song, though Belle's smile faded a little. Something about the Hat's final quatrain left her feeling like she'd swallowed a little ball of cold steel. She gave herself a mental shake, assuring herself that the Hat's efforts to compose a new song every year undoubtedly made the occasionally grim lyric unavoidable. But that cold little knot in her stomach didn't fade entirely.

Belle didn't really have time to check her fellow students for signs that they'd had the same reaction, because Professor Fairchild had joined Professor Maeblieghe on the dais, on the other side of the stool. He held a scroll which bore the names of all the incoming students. Able as she was to navigate her surroundings, it would perhaps be too much to ask of Professor Maeblieghe to read from the roster. No one was really sure if it was her precognitive prowess which allowed her to know where things were, or if she saw through the eyes of Juju, the python forever draped over her shoulders like a stole.

As usual, the names were read off the list in reverse alphabetical order, starting with "Zaki, Minty," and Belle remembered her own Sorting. It had been an odd experience. It was like the feeling one gets when someone walks into the room, only, instead of a room, it was her own head. The presence wasn't intrusive, by any means, but it had been a bit of a shock. Belle remembered the gentle voice of the Hat whispering in her ear, but only she could hear. "Kind and compassionate," it had said. "A good heart, not afraid of hard work. An eager desire for something more. Courage to stand up for your convictions. But that thirst for knowledge, the need to learn, to see, to understand... Truly, you belong in-" And then, aloud, the Hat had cried out, "RAVENCLAW!"

There simply weren't as many surnames, Belle had noticed, at that end of the alphabet, and soon, the roster had moved on to "Yagoobian, Michael," who was placed in Hufflepuff. It wasn't until after "Von Schweetz, Vanellope"-GRYFFINDOR!-that progress began to slow. Belle turned her attention back to her book, joining in the polite applause out of reflex as each first-year was Sorted, though she was more enthusiastic when students like "Stacy, Penny" or "Robinson, Lewis" were placed in Ravenclaw.

However, like many of the other students, she sat up and took a little more notice when the name "Pendragon, Arthur" was called out. The skinny, sandy-haired boy seemed to feel the eyes on him as a physical pressure as he made his way to the dais. The Pendragons were one of the most prominent families in the wizarding world, and not unheard-of even among muggles. If Henry and Florian's families were nobility, the Pendragons were wizarding royalty. Belle's curiosity was replaced with sympathy for the poor kid. A legacy like his was a tough thing for a kid to carry. The way all those expectations had piled up on some of her classmates made her glad to be a muggle-born.

The Hat squirmed a bit on the boy's head as it considered his personality like a gourmet assessing a fine wine. Then, it cried out, "RAVENCLAW!" The applause was a bit more emphatic as the boy hurried over to the House table, seeming eager to vanish into the crowd.

Belle's attention began to waver again as the tide of names washed over her. "Pan, Peter"-SLYTHERIN!-"Nagai, Russell"-GRYFFINDOR!-"Marshall, Pete"-SLYTHERIN!-"Hamada, Hiro"-RAVENCLAW! At that, the typical Ravenclaw restraint was broken, as seventh-year Tadashi Hamada practically leapt onto the table in celebration. He'd been bragging about his brilliant little brother for years, and Belle wondered how he would have reacted if Hiro had been placed in another House.

The teachers all leveled stern gazes at Tadashi, though Belle could imagine much of the staff being amused. After that, it was a more sedate progression of names, finally finishing with "Appleseed, Jonathan"-HUFFLEPUFF!

There was much cheering and excited chatter as the first-years settled in with their new Housemates. Belle tucked her book back into her robes and noticed she was now sitting next to a little blonde girl with big, blue eyes. "I'm sorry to invade your space," the first-year said, "but there weren't many available seats."

Belle chuckled. "No problem," she said, and extended a hand. "Belle Eglantier, fifth-year."

"Alice Carroll," the girl replied, shaking the offered hand. "It's probably obvious I'm a first-year."

Belle grinned and gestured to the boys sitting across from her. "This is Henry Charmant and Florian Reizvoll," she said.

The Two Prince Charmings beamed at the girl. "We met on the train," Henry said.

"And the pleasure has only been redoubled," Florian said.

Henry looked around. "I'm sure people would be happy to shift around if your friend would care to join us," he said.

Alice tilted her head. "Friend? Oh-Wendy. She was Sorted into Hufflepuff."

"Well, don't worry," Belle said. "The Houses aren't so separated that you won't be able spend time together." She smiled. "Otherwise, these two would die of despair."

Henry and Florian crossed their arms in unison. "And what do you mean by that?" Florian asked.

"Oh, nothing," Belle replied. "Only that there is a certain pair of Hufflepuff girls from whom you two seem unable to separate yourselves."

"Snow and Ella?" Alice asked.

The boys' stunned expressions set Belle laughing so hard she thought she might fall from her seat. As Belle guffawed, the boys turned red, and Alice blinked in puzzlement, the chiming of a goblet being struck rang out across the room. Belle managed to compose herself as the chatter in the room died away and all eyes turned towards the teachers' table.

"Who's that?" Alice murmured, nodding towards the man standing and surveying the Hall. If it weren't for the deep purple robe he wore over his old-fashioned suit, he'd be entirely unremarkable. He was passing from "middle-aged" to "mature", had brown hair, and a medium build. Overall, he was pleasant-looking, but ordinary.

"That's Professor Robin, the Headmaster," Belle quietly replied.

Alice nodded. "Hm. I was expecting someone more..."

"Beardy-weirdy?" Henry offered.

Alice nodded. "Quite."

"Welcome, students, new and returning, to another year at Hogwarts," Professor Robin said. "I would just like to say: let's eat." And with that, he clapped his hands and the empty dishes on the tables filled with food. There was another round of applause as the room full of hungry teenagers were presented with a meal.

As dishes were passed around and plates filled, Alice asked, "Who were the two women who saw to the Sorting?"

"The younger one was Professor Fairchild," Belle answered. "She's the Head of Ravenclaw House-a sort of faculty advisor to the Ravenclaw students. She's also the Astronomy teacher."

"She's a bit airy-fairy," Henry said.

"But a surprisingly good advisor," Florian added.

"There are a few people who don't like her, though," Belle said. "They don't think it's fair that she should be that pretty and be able to calculate a star's mass."

"Ah," Alice replied, glancing up at the teacher's table. Professor Fairchild was, indeed, quite lovely, with her shining blonde hair, youthful features and shimmering blue gown. She held her fork in one hand, while the other was scribbling something on a napkin. Belle imagined she was working out some astrophysics problem while half-listening to whatever Professor Glauben was telling her. "So long as she's a good teacher," Alice said, returning her attention to her food.

Belle smiled. "The other teacher was Professor Maeblieghe," she said. "She's Hufflepuff's Head of House, and teaches Dark Defense."

Alice wrinkled her nose. "Dark Defense?"

"It used to be called 'Defense Against the Dark Arts," Belle said, "but they changed it shortly before our first year."

"They thought it was too much of a mouthful," Florian said. As if to illustrate his point, he took a sizable bite of some sort of chicken casserole.

Alice nodded, but seemed unsure. Belle pursed her lips a moment, not sure if she should ask Alice if she was all right. "Anyway, you'll like her," she said. "It can be a little unnerving, how she knows where everything is, despite being blind, and her snake takes some getting used to, and, of course, she won't hesitate to point out your mistakes-" Belle halted, knowing she wasn't really making the lady sound all that likeable.

"But it's all done very constructively," Henry added. "She's also just as likely to take notice of your successes."

"Who are the Heads of the other Houses?" Alice asked.

Florian pointed with his fork towards one end of the teachers' table. "See the man on the end? With the hair and the tattoos?"

Alice nodded. He was hard to miss. A slim, elderly man with a wild fringe of white hair sat at the end of the table, heartily digging into a plate piled with fruits and vegetables. His skin was the rich, deep brown of antique wood, which made the red and blue markings on his long face seem all the brighter.

"That's Professor Rafiki," Florian said. "He's the Head of Gryffindor House. He teaches Magical Creatures."

"You won't have him until your third year, when you can choose electives," Henry added.

"Let's see," Florian continued. "The couple next to him are the two Professor Dearlys. They teach Art and Music, respectively. Then, Professor Nova, Muggle Studies; Professor Gusteau, Potions; Professor Hammersmith, Technomancy-"

"What's Technomancy?" Alice asked.

"Creating magical objects and devices," Belle explained. "You can use charms to enchant something, but those spells have a pretty limited shelf-life. Magical devices made through technomancy can keep running almost indefinitely. It's actually pretty fascinating. Everything from your wand to the Hogwarts Express was built using technomancy."

"Then, of course, you have Doctor Poppins, who runs the infirmary and teaches Medical Sorcery," Florian continued. "Next to him is Coach Ryen. He's the sports master, and will give all you first-years flying lessons. Then, Professor Robin and Professor Maeblieghe, of course. Professor Toombs, Divination; Professor Glauben, Transfiguration; Professor Fairchild, obviously; Professor Mim, Arithmancy-"

"Though, of course, she wants Glauben's job," Henry interjected.

"Arithmancy isn't a popular subject," Belle said.

"Hooray, calculus," Henry deadpanned.

"Anyway," Florian said, narrowing his eyes at his "twin." "Next to her is Professor Crane, who teaches Literature and runs the library; Professor Hatter, History; Professor Price, Herbology, and then, there at the end is Professor Cecily, who teaches Charms, and is the Slytherin Head of House," he said, indicating the heavyset woman with the high, silver pompadour and heavy makeup.

Belle patted Alice's hand. "Don't worry if you can't remember them all," she reassured the girl. "Half of those courses are electives for third-years and up."

Alice smiled back, and returned her attention to her meal. They chatted about trivialities, the three third-years kindly including the new girl in the conversation. Like Belle, Alice was a muggle-born, so there was, at least, some common ground. Pureblood families were becoming increasingly familiar with the muggle world, but both Prince Charmings were left baffled more than once by things the two girls discussed. Pop culture, technology and muggle politics were all a bit foreign, even to the likes of the Charmings.

Belle liked Alice; she was a sweet kid-a little odd, but sweet. Sometimes, she seemed strangely perceptive, and other times, innocently oblivious. Belle hoped she would get on well with the other students. Belle, herself, had often been viewed as a funny girl-always reading, hungry for knowledge, dissatisfied with the prospect of a dull, provincial life-and knew how that loneliness could make you ache. But that was before she came to Hogwarts. Here, she found people who understood how she felt. She hoped Alice would find the same amongst those her own age group.

At one point, during the deserts course, the school's ghosts introduced themselves. Some, like Sad Sally Stitch or Dancing Jack, were creepy but benign-Jack, especially, could be rather charming. The Cat took delight in getting students lost, but was otherwise harmless. Chained Jacob's miserable moans could be annoying when one was trying to study. Others, however-

There was a cackle of malicious glee, and a custard pie and a large sundae suddenly rose up from the Ravenclaw table. The image of a young, round-faced boy shimmered into being, holding the deserts. An entirely-too-wide grin spread over his circular face as he sought a potential target.

A girl with platinum-blonde hair and a silver badge on her robe shot to her feet and glared at the spectral boy. "Don't even think about it, Barrel!" she said with the air of a royal decree.

"Oh, but I wanna share some desert with the new kids," he wheedled in fake innocence. "Or would the Ice Queen prefer some ice cream?"

A male ghost, elegantly attired but skeletally thin, appeared not far away. "Barrel..." he growled in the low tones of an angry parent.

Barrel barked out a laugh and flew away, pie and ice cream in hand. The skeletal figure shook his head, turned, gave a flourishing bow to the blonde girl, and faded.

Alice turned wide eyes to Belle. "Wha-?"

"We have ghosts," Henry said simply.

"The tall, bony fellow is Dancing Jack," Belle said. "Rather likeable, really. The boy is known only as Barrel. He's not a ghost, exactly, but a poltergeist." Belle looked at the doors through which Barrel had vanished, and frowned.

"What is it?" Florian asked.

"There was only Barrel," she said. "Normally, Lock and Shock are with him, as well."

"Lock and Shock?" Alice asked.

"There's three poltergeists at Hogwarts," Henry said. "They're almost always together."

Belle didn't like the notion of Barrel being out by himself-not because Barrel might get hurt, but because Lock, and especially Shock, seemed to be the brains of the outfit. Therefore, while Barrel was causing problems in one location by himself, the smarter members of the trio were doing something elsewhere.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Florian said, as if reading Belle's mind. "Dancing Jack can keep them in line, most of the time, and Professor Maeblieghe scares the ectoplasm out of them."

"That's true," Belle said, and returned her attention to her shortcake. Still, her curiosity niggled at the back of her mind.

"Why did he call that girl the Ice Queen?" Alice asked.

Belle and the boys exchanged glances. "Her name's Elsa Agnarsdottr," Henry said. "Seventh-year. She's the Ravenclaw Head Girl."

"And among other things," Florian said, in the tones of someone trying to be delicate, "she's not known for her open warmth."

Alice looked down the table. Elsa Agnarsdottr was beautifully pale, her platinum hair bound up in a complexly braided bun. Her posture was ramrod-straight, and she seemed to be staring down at her plate, gloved hands flat on the table. Alice tilted her head to the side, trying to read the older girl's expression. It almost seemed like she was meditating, taking slow, even breaths. Alice wanted to know why she was wearing gloves, why she seemed so intent on calming herself, and what the "other things" were Florian mentioned. Alice looked back to Belle, ready to unleash her unasked questions, but there was something in Belle's expression which told her there would be a better time for such questions.

Soon, the deserts were cleared away, and Professor Robin called for the attention of the gathered students. "Now that the banquet has been concluded," he said, "there are a few issues to address. The Forbidden Forest, is, as the name would suggest, off limits unless either in the presence of a teacher, or bearing the express written permission of same. Our caretaker, Signore Intagliatore, would like to remind all students that there is no magic is to be used outside of the classrooms." Here, he paused to look over at the Slytherin table, and Alice heard a pair of boys snickering. "All classes previously held in the third floor of the west wing have been relocated to the second floor of the east wing, until gravity can be properly reinstated. For those of you wishing to try out for Quidditch, Coach Ryen will be posting schedules at the Quidditch field next week. Professor Dearly will also be posting tryout schedules for the orchestra and choir outside his office." He smiled out over the group. "Now that we've gone through all of that, and we've enjoyed a rather spectacular meal, I believe it time for us all to retire to our beds for the evenings."

Elsa Agnarsdottr and a rather handsome blonde boy, who also bore a silver badge, stood and began directing the Ravenclaw students to gather round. A handful of other students, wearing similar badges, rounded their classmates up with neat efficiency. Similar gatherings were happening at the other House tables, though the Gryffindors seemed to regard shouting as the best way to get things done.

Elsa led the Ravenclaws out of the Great Hall, and along the corridors. Alice, like all of the first-years, watched the shifting staircases and moving artwork goggle-eyed. Elsa led them all higher and higher, while her counterpart-Belle identified him as John Smith, the seventh-year Head Boy-brought up the rear. The prefects-the other badge-wearing students-were spaced evenly among the procession. At one point, they passed a "Wet Floor" sign, and Alice guessed the fate of one of the stolen deserts.

Soon, they arrived at spiral staircase, discreetly tucked away at the end of a hallway. Elsa explained to the gathered first-years how, at the top of the spiral staircase, was the door to the Ravenclaw dormitories. To open the door, students would have to answer a riddle. Logic and reason, Else said, had little to do with magic, so most wizards balked when they had to apply their brains to a problem instead of their magic.

In groups, the first-years climbed the staircase and stood before the eagle. When it was Alice's turn, she was accompanied by Arthur Pendragon, Hiro Hamada, Lewis Robinson, and Penny Stacy.

The metal raptor peered at them from its perch on the door. "What walks on four legs in the morning," it intoned, "two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?"

Hiro rolled his eyes. "Oh, please," he muttered. "Everyone knows this one."

"A performing dog," Alice replied.

Hiro, Penny, Arthur, Elsa, and even the eagle looked at her.

Alice blinked at them. "The dog walks on four legs in the morning, its two hind legs in the afternoon performance, but it hurt its paw doing a somersault through a hoop, so it's limping about on three legs in the evening." Alice frowned. "Poor Pongo."

The students stared at her, then turned to the eagle. After a moment, door swung open, the eagle doorknocker looking a bit sullen. Alice took no notice of Hiro's dumbstruck expression, or the sly little smile on Elsa's face. She was too busy gazing at her surroundings.

The Ravenclaw common room was huge and airy, with windows sure to let in a flood of sunlight, come morning. The other walls were covered with bookshelves. In fact, virtually everything in the common room stored books, scrolls and boxes of unbound texts. There were even shelves and cabinets built into every piece of furniture. A piano sat in one corner of the room, along with other musical paraphernalia. Near the huge windows stood a cluster of stools and collapsed easels. Everything was done in shades of blue, indigo and silver, with woodwork polished and stained a rich bronze, like the metalwork. It was perfectly beautiful.

Alice joined the other first-years in exploring the common room. They marveled at bookcases, which rolled away, revealing yet more shelves in seemingly endless layers. Elsa explained how the books were there for the use of all the Ravenclaws, but could never be removed from the common room, and there were penalties for damaging any of the collection. However, there was a process for annotating texts, should some new insight be discovered. Also, Ravenclaw students were expected to contribute a volume to the Ravenclaw library upon graduation.

Belle smiled at the wide-eyed first-years and crossed to the room she had shared with Arista Del Mar since her own first year at Hogwarts. Belle and Arista got along, though their friendship was based more on proximity than anything else. If they'd been placed in different Houses, the two would probably have had no interaction whatsoever. They did, at least share an interest in reading-not exactly noteworthy, for Ravenclaws-though Arista's passions seemed to lie more in music, than anything else.

Belle had planned on doing some reading before turning out the light, but almost as soon as she climbed under the sheets, her eyelids turned to lead. It seemed Arista was experiencing the same sensation, and they bid each other goodnight.

As Belle sank into sleep, the words of the Sorting Hat replayed in her mind.

...When darkness hides the light...

0-0-0-0

Glass clinked faintly against glass. There was next to no illumination within the boughs of the trees, but there didn't really need to be. The stepladder creaked as it was dragged into position. Hands worked with surety and efficiency, getting a good, solid knot. At the sound of footsteps through the grass and leaves, a triangular head raised up and a forked tongue tasted the air.

Without turning around, the figure on the stepladder said, "Evenin', Professor. Slytherins all tucked in?"

Professor Cecily paused, but only for a fraction of a second. Professor Maeblieghe' awareness of her surroundings could even unnerve long-time colleagues on occasion. "Odie, what on Earth are you doing out here?" Cecily asked, holding her lit wand aloft. The soft glow shown off the myriad bottles hanging from the tree branches.

"Just a little pet project of mine," she said, making her creaky way down the steps. "Ain't nuthin' to worry about."

"Hm," Cecily said. "Yes, well, it's getting quite late, and we do have rather a big day, tomorrow."

"Honey, when you get my age, jus' you see what kinda hours you keep," Professor Maeblieghe replied.

Professor Cecily arched a painted eyebrow. How anyone could reach her age, she had no idea. "Odie, dear, if you're quite finished with your...art project-"

"Funny thing, doncha think?" Maeblieghe interrupted, climbing the ladder again with the last of her bottles.

Cecily frowned. "What's that?"

"The Sortin' Hat," she replied, bony fingers working at the knot. "Changed its tune this year."

Cecily shrugged, though the gesture would be unnoticed by her colleague-probably. "The old thing comes up with a new song every year," she said. "Or tries to. Frankly, I think it could use a rhyming dictionary. I know I've heard some of those lines before."

Odie Maeblieghe gave a raspy chuckle. "You right about that," she said. "But y'all's missing somethin'."

Professor Cecily stopped herself from sighing. Professor Maeblieghe was old, even by wizard standards, and her train of thought was easily derailed. It was a wonder she was still teaching.

"Time's a-comin'," Maeblieghe continued, "when folks gonna have to make a choice."

"Pronouncements, Odie?" Cecily remarked. "Isn't that Leota's territory?"

Maeblieghe chuckled as she folded up the stepladder and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. Cecily moved to help her and the old woman waved her away. "Honey, this ain't no vision," she said. "This is just fact. Things is movin'. Things is gonna happen. We's all gonna have to make a choice on where we stand." Professor Maeblieghe tottered by with the wheelbarrow as Professor Cecily watched in silence. Cecily looked and regarded the line of bottles, hanging from the trees. She moved her wand, trying to shift the light. She couldn't see all the way down the edge of the Forbidden Forest, but could see the gleam of colored glass as far as her witchlight could reach. How many of those had the woman hung? And so quickly?

"Come on, honey," Professor Maeblieghe called. "Big day tomorrow."

Ursula Cecily turned and followed her to the castle. A big day, indeed.