Chapter Four
Of all things, clever! Intelligent! Clara couldn't believe she had a place among these students, whose voices cheered for her.
"Welcome to Ravenclaw!" An auburn-haired boy called above the din, clapping Clara on the back. He pointed farther down the table, where a set of students were leaning out from their chairs. "Come join us. You don't want to be stuck with a bunch of prefects and first years for dinner." The willowy girl who'd guided Clara to the table waved them off, so Clara hurried down to the centre of the table, where a group of boys and girls in blue ties shifted aside to make room for her.
"I'm Jasper Wrought," the boy said, shuffling in beside her on the bench. Clara had been ushered down next to a silver haired girl with dull blue eyes, whose skin was luminous and tinged with sickly grey. "That's Serena," he said, his voice finally quieting down as the first years were arranged for their sorting. Serena nodded her hello without looking up. "That's-Oh, we're starting again." His attentions were already back up to the stage. New students were sorted in dribs and drabs to each table.
"Gabriel Greenmoore?"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Heidi Prattlewash?"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Louis Bloom?"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
On and on it went, until over twenty students were seen to new seats on one of the four tables. No one was turned away. Only when the last student had been Sorted (Felix Draper – Ravenclaw) could the festivities begin. Professor Roselia returned to the podium, announced that there would be no more speeches until everyone was fed, and took her seat.
In a miraculous fashion, the tables suddenly overflowed with a mountainous feast. Honey glazed carrots, ropey plaits of bread, whole roasts of pork, chicken and beef, peas of several shades and kinds... Clara felt weak. She hadn't seen this much food before in her life. Where had it come from? How could she do that?
There would be room for learning later. Jasper told her in no uncertain terms to dig in, reaching for a dish himself. Silver-haired Serena served vegetables onto her plate and rolled them around with a spoon.
Questions and introductions flew over Clara's head as the other fourth years began to eat.
"That's Devon Pilverton," Jasper said, jabbing his fork at a chubby blonde boy who politely said hello. "Helluva cook, that boy, his family runs the bakery in Hogsmeade. And down there, that's Jacob, mate of mine, sitting with his bloody girlfriend instead of me because he's a complete tosser." He directed a rude hand gesture at a tall, dark haired boy with thin square spectacles. The boy returned his gesture quite lazily, without breaking conversation from a pretty Indian girl beside him. "That's Pruganthi." The girl waved down the table at them, her dark hair sparkling with doubtlessly magical assistance.
Clara waved back with a nervous smile. See, this was more people than she'd met in a year. Their names rushed around her, forgotten as soon as she learned them. Jasper kept firing them off, pointing out boys and girls farther down the table from them. How was Clara supposed to remember them all?
"You'll get to know a few more people too – Kids from other houses. Some of them aren't too bad. See over at the Gryffindor table, that's Tod and Roman, good blokes, and that's Charlie – He's actually pretty clever – The blonde goddess is Vanessa, spent her holidays down in Australia so I hear-"
And all the while, a fox faced girl sitting directly across from Clara went unnamed.
"And that's Simon – Not a bad fellow, good to chat to if you need help with Ancient Runes, just not very interesting if you don't want to chat about Ancient Runes – Then there's Kelly, she isn't half bad at Transfig–"
The girl's face became redder and redder, until she snapped, "Are you quite done?"
Jasper grinned at her. "Oh, darn, sis. Forgot you were there."
The fox faced girl stuck her hand out over the table, glaring at him. "Jasmine," she said to Clara, "It's a pleasure to have another addition to our little fourth year Ravenclaw family."
"Nice to meet you." Clara smiled back, shaking her hand. "It's a pleasure to be here. I wish someone had told me I was clever years ago - I could have behaved like it all this time."
Jasmine smiled at her nervous attempt at a joke. "You're a Ravenclaw, so we know you can't be dull. That's a great start."
"What precisely are my obligations as a Ravenclaw?" Clara wondered, letting her eyes drift to the Hufflepuff table. She could just make out Thomas chatting to some other boys his age. His eyes met hers over the table, and he gave her a sad smile. Obligations in Hufflepuff house had been simple commands, such as 'don't forget to feed the plants' and 'be a cheerful loser at Gobstones'.
"Well first," Jasper supplied, "You've got to be better than everyone else-"
"Oh, do shut up!" Jasmine snapped.
"And you've got to follow all the rules, and arrive on time, and don't forget to shine your cauldron-"
"Stop acting like this is a big joke, half of those things are just good practice!" Jasmine huffed. "Except the bit about cauldrons!"
"Jasmine fancies herself a future prefect," Jasper said, "She's usually well capable of fitting in at least one lecture before breakfast. Don't let her get you down."
"Perhaps you'd be better served by similar ambitions, Jasper!" She snapped hotly.
Clara glanced between them. They had similar ski-slope noses, dark brows and translucent complexions. Jasmine's hair was lighter, but their eyes were the same, a feline hazel colour. "You're siblings!"
"Twins," Jasper said proudly, at the same time as Jasmine sighed, "Twins…"
"Jasper and Jasmine Wrought," Jasmine supplied helpfully, before continuing, "Look, Clara, if you really want to do your house proud, don't let yourself get distracted by the sort of nonsense Jasper gets up to. Get your work done and meet your deadlines. There are many opportunities here for someone willing to reach for them!"
Jasper was mimicking her face while she spoke, which wouldn't have been so offensive if he didn't do it so accurately. It was an almost perfect rendition. Clara smiled down at her food.
Jasmine's face was turning redder but she refused to give in. "Do you have any interests? Any skills that you fancy picking up?"
Clara gazed around the room for inspiration. Only one thing truly occurred to her. "The food. I want to make food and shelter whenever I want it," she said determinedly, which she thought would be an entirely ordinary ambition, except that a lull fell over their section of the table. "What?"
"Cooking magic?" Jasper snorted, "It's a bit… Bit Hufflepuff."
Clara flushed red. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing!" He threw up his hands, "Just, you know. It's cooking magic, it's-"
"A perfectly fine ambition," Jasmine interrupted, though even she seemed thrown, "It's impossible to truly conjure food, of course, but the best cooks can transfigure even old roots into something delicious. The skill ceiling is very high. Some of the best transfiguration witches in the world are housewives with experience, you know."
"Transfiguration," Clara murmured. She filed the notion of food and conjuration away, to be looked at later, in private. For now, she filled her plate high with potatoes and roast meat. Questions were launched at Clara from every possible angle as she began to eat.
"So," Jasper began, "Starting in your fourth year, hey? Bit full on. What's that about?" He tore the flesh off a pork rib with total abandon, unembarrassed when the sauce got all over his chin.
Clara shrugged, endeavouring not to answer, but everyone else had hushed up to listen. "That's a… Good question," she answered, buying time to form an answer.
"Yes," Jasper agreed, "I'm full of them."
"Well… I grew up… In the country," she explained, "With my sister."
"Witch or Muggle?"
"Witch," Clara said, but amended, "We didn't do much magic though. I have lots to learn."
"Hm. Know many spells, then?"
Clara opened her mouth to speak, cheeks flushing red. Surely this was the part where they sent her home, shame of Ravenclaw house.
"Food's good this year," Serena supplied suddenly, though she had barely touched a single pea. Her voice was soft, but everyone paused to listen. "Say, Devon, do you think they've got a new cook?"
The polite blonde boy blinked, surprised at being addressed. "Uh-Well, no, no, not likely, uh, as the house elves actually make all the food, and they have yet to be, uhm, replaced, or…"
"Thanks Devon," Serena said, and continued picking at her food. She hadn't looked at Clara once. Clara felt an immense rush of affection for the girl who'd only spoken a few words. Somehow, Serena had sensed her embarrassment and jumped in.
The night full of candles and good food rolled over Clara, making her feel warm. People asked her questions, but everyone was too delighted with the evening and their return to the castle to pursue after Clara's half answers. She filled up on sweet carrots and Yorkshire puddings, stopping only when Jasper informed her that dessert was yet to come, so she'd better make room. When dinner was done, the food disappeared completely, leaving behind spotless cutlery of shining gold.
Clara managed to spot Harlowe eventually, after some Hufflepuffs had gotten out of their seats to visit friends in other years. The glasses-wearing girl was sat next to a tall and weedy boy with dark hair, who was eyeing Clara with curiosity. They both waved.
Professor Roselia took to the podium once more. "Now that you're fed, I'd like your utmost attention, please." The groggy, food-stuffed audience lapsed into a willing silence. "First years ought to know that they are welcome to practice magic on Hogwarts grounds, in their classes and dormitories, but not in the halls between classes. Hogwarts staff only have so much time to clean up your magical disasters."
"The grounds are splendid, and they're yours to explore, however, it must be known that the lake is full of dangers – the deeper you wade into its depths, the more likely you are to come across something that wishes you ill. The same can be said for the large forest on Hogwarts grounds. Some of the things that live in the forest can trick you. Some of them are dangerous. Some of them are unknown entirely. Do not enter the forest without supervision."
"Last of all, classes begin tomorrow. Students will receive their class schedules at breakfast. Rest well. You're going to need it. Now," she smiled, "Enjoy."
The plates filled once again, overflowing with desserts. Glossy warm cinnamon buns, ice cream scooped into perfect pyramids and gravy boats full of chocolate fudge sauce. Fruits and carrot cakes, chocolates and tarts. Clara tucked in to an enormous amount of food, only half listening to Jasper and Jasmine's bickering. Devon told her how the chocolate sauce was actually a family recipe that they'd gifted to the school, and politely poured soft drink into her cup when it was nearly empty. At the end, Clara's stomach was full to distension under her second-hand robes. Slumping happily in her seat, she watched everyone settle into their first night back at school. Jasmine was yawning with her chin in her hand, ranking her classes in order of perceived importance. Serena was blinking sleepily over a cup of milkshake. Even Jasper had quietened down, though he kept making gestures to some kids at the Gryffindor table.
When dessert was over, the host of students were told to follow their prefects up to their dorms. Professor Roselia made her way down through the throng to inform Clara that her things would be transported to the Ravenclaw tower. "All of them," she said notably, and pat Clara's shoulder. "Sleep well tonight. Tomorrow is a big day. I'm leaving Clara in your capable hands…" The professor scanned the students beside her. Jasmine sort of wiggled expectantly, as though she was about to burst. "Serena."
Serena glanced upward, her luminous eyes full of confusion, then right back down. "I can do that," she said. Jasmine looked put out by the whole thing and drifted off to talk to Pruganthi about classes.
As the students made their way up through the great castle, Clara felt certain that climbing so high would cripple her. "Endless stairs," she muttered, "Do you think they could rustle up enough magic for an elevator?" She glanced up. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jasper parting from them. He was dropping back, disappearing into the throng. At the top of the stairs, she turned to look once more. Jasper was taking the stairs back down with a small group of students. She recognised Jacob, and three Gryffindors, including a tall black boy and a gorgeous blonde. They all wore matching mischievous grins.
Serena followed her gaze. "Secret passage hunt. They do it every year on the first night, when the teachers are too tired to be on the move."
"Sounds like fun," Clara murmured, watching them slip further and further back down the row of Ravenclaws. Stairs shifted and glided away behind them. Prefects were busy shepherding first years. The boys could already be anywhere.
Up and up the winding staircases they went, in a castle that was beginning to feel familiar. Clara knew some of the paintings now, knew to step over at least one of the trip stairs. They kept climbing. Clara's feet began to hurt.
Finally they stood at a stone door with a beautiful golden eagle stretched out across its face. A Ravenclaw prefect, with his tie pressed up hard against his Adam's apple, reached for the doorknocker held in the eagle's claws.
The golden eagle turned its head to address the group. "I have gills and scales, but am not a fish. I have a stem, but am not a flower. What am I?"
"A mushroom," the prefect replied smartly.
The eagle bowed his head; The door swung open.
Students filed inside. Everyone was exhausted. They stomped up the stairs to their individual dorms. Only Clara and a handful of first years were frozen in delight. What a beautiful place!
The ceiling arched high overhead. Every pane was carved with mystical animals that clawed, swam and stretched across the starry sky. A million stars watched Clara enter her new home, twinkling in vivid appreciation. They were bright, just like they were in the national parks. She supposed that there wasn't much light pollution here, where lanterns outdid globes as light sources. Or perhaps magic strengthened their prominence: She could even see the white shimmer of the Milky Way, and the red brilliance of Mars.
Twirling in place, Clara gazed around at bookshelves stacked high to the roof, and globes that depicted not just countries, but the constellations of the sky. Each globe spun lazily by itself. An enormous white marble statue of a regal looking woman stood opposite the entrance. The big round room, decked in a champagne sheen of bronze curtain, with a midnight blue carpet, reminded Clara of offices of parliament. It was a room that spoke of wisdom. When she finally stopped spinning, Clara laughed. "How wonderful."
For a long time after that, Clara and Serena stood still, looking up at the stars. "Thanks, Serena," Clara said.
Serena shrugged. "Nobody owes Jasper their secrets."
"How'd you know I had anything to hide?" Clara studied the young woman. Her huge, dull eyes reflecting the million tiny lights above their heads.
"I'm not sure," Serena replied, "but wasn't it obvious? To anyone really… Looking? You've started so late, but you didn't transfer from another school. You didn't talk about home." She looked at Clara. "Do you know any spells?"
"None," Clara admitted. "It's going to be a long year." Staring at the staircase that would inevitably arrive at her dorm, she said, "When I was very little, I wanted to come to Hogwarts. For a long time I thought I couldn't, so I forgot about it. I even forgot the name. I only remembered that other kids would be with me, too, and that we got to stay in big rooms together, like a sleepover. I never had sleepovers. Do they still do that? Put us all in a big room?"
Serena smiled. She took Clara's hand and tugged her forward, up the steps to the fourth year girl's room. Six beds were laid out against a curving stone wall, each with its own set of draping black and yellow curtains. Five of the six beds had personal items arranged on their bedside table, with curtains drawn. Cross legged on one bed, two girls were speaking in hushed whispers, giggling, doubtlessly sharing holiday anecdotes. Their silhouettes were cast up the curtain by a warm bedside light.
"This will be your new home," Serena said, gesturing to the final, empty bed. "Should you choose to accept it." She looked back over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Clara glanced to make sure the other girls were still engrossed in their conversation. She looked around at the little beds, just metres away from another. A huge, shared, semi-permanent space for her to exist in. Soft and functional, like a home, but temporary, like a hotel, and filled with other people. It was nothing like the quiet, cold independence of her tent, where she and the wind and the sound of frogs were so often alone together. At once, Clara felt grateful and happy with the new arrangements, but also terrified to get comfortable. The time would surely come when she would have to leave again.
All of these things she felt compelled to say. But Serena's eyes were on her and the room had other people in it and there was no good way to phrase it. Clara decided to be plain grateful. "It's wonderful," she said quietly, and just like that, her bags, her clothes, and a dirty tent appeared on the bed, popping out of the air with a thin VOOSH.