September 2009

Marietta had been sorted into Gryffindor. According to the students sitting at the table around her, that was a good thing. She didn't know much about the houses of Hogwarts, but Professor Longbottom had been a Gryffindor and that, she thought as he winked at her from the High Table, seemed to bode well.

Only a few more students were left to be sorted after Marietta and Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress about which she had heard so much from Professor Longbottom, stood up and spoke to the school. Marietta heard the headmistress's words but paid little attention to them. As the teacher spoke, food had begun to appear magically on the gold plates in front of the students. The older students, apparently accustomed to such feats, were paying attention to their headmistress, but the other first years seemed just as overwhelmed.

"And now … let us eat."

The words could not have come soon enough.

Marietta looked around; the tables were full of an assortment of food her mother never could have prepared, not with all the cookbooks in the world. There were tureens of soup, giant turkey legs, pumpkin pasties and mounds of vegetables. Realizing that the students around her had already begun to fill their plates, Marietta followed suit.

"Congratulations on making Gryffindor," said the boy next to her. He was a first-year as well, sorted just before her, and Marietta had to keep herself from staring at his bright blue hair. "It would have been a disappointment to my family if I'd been anything else, I think. How about yours?"

"I … uh … I was raised by Muggles," she stuttered. Marietta found this the easiest explanation; she didn't feel like launching into the whole story of her background over chicken soup.

"Oh, I see. I'm from a wizarding family, but my granddad was a Muggle. I never knew him," he added before Marietta could inquire further. "He died before I was born. I was named for him – I'm Teddy, by the way." He held out his hand and Marietta shook it.

"Marietta Spiro."

"Oh, are you Italian? I've always wanted to go to Italy." His eyes flashed with excitement; was it the light in the Great Hall or had they just changed color?

"My parents are Italian, but I'm - " Marietta paused, realizing that she didn't know exactly what she was "I'm not," she finished lamely.

If Teddy wasn't completely won over by her story, he didn't show it. They finished off the meal with a hearty conversation about their upcoming classes. Marietta knew little about the wizarding world and Teddy's knowledge impressed her. "I'm looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts," he confided. Marietta vaguely remembered Professor Longbottom telling her about it; he had seemed to prefer his own subject – Herbology, he'd called it. "I've heard the teacher is quite good and the class itself is just phenomenal. It was my godfather's favorite class in school. He's told me all his stories…"

"Your godfather?"

"Yeah, I stay with him a lot. My grandmother's getting older and I hate to be a burden, so I come round for dinner pretty often."

"Your parents are…"

"Dead," he said. Although his voice was very matter-of-fact, Marietta noticed that his hair didn't seem as blue as before. "I'm quite proud of them both, but it's hard to know if I'll be able to live up to them." Almost all the color had faded out of his unruly hair when suddenly, desert appeared on the table. "Oh, wonderful, they've got treacle tart!" As his expression brightened, Teddy's hair turned a vivid shade of orange not unlike Marietta's.

"How did you – your hair, it just - " She stuttered for a second. Were all wizards like this, had she missed out on some special magic shampoo?

Teddy laughed. "I'm a Metamorphmagus," he said by way of explanation. Marietta's face must have expressed her confusion, for Teddy laughed again. "I forgot … Muggles. A Metamorphmagus can change their appearance. Rather like a … no, you wouldn't have heard of them, never mind. I inherited it from my Mum; she could change her face and everything, but usually it's just my hair that changes." He shook his head and his hair returned to its previous state of turquoise.

Marietta touched her hair rather self-consciously. It had only ever been red and she doubted if it would ever be anything else. Not that she minded: her curly, copper-colored hair had always been the envy of all her friends. But compared to Teddy's metama-whatevering, it seemed rather dull. Teddy noticed. "You've got quite nice hair, you know," he said with a comforting smile. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were a Weasley!"

Marietta didn't understand, but Teddy laughed so she laughed along. It was nice to have friends.