Life can't be easy.
It's not always swell.
Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl,
'Cause it hurts like hell,
-David Bowie, "Underground"
Despite her late night, Audrey awoke early to unfamiliar silence and a creaky if cosy bed. The room was full with mellow, early morning sunlight. It was tempting to stay beneath her patched quilt, in denial of the new world that awaited, a world both exciting and scary in its unfamiliarity. But after a moment spent gathering herself, Audrey left the protective cocoon of her covers and dug as quietly as she could through her old suitcase. The case had been her mom's, and Audrey loved its charming powder blue and old stickers telling of journeys passed. Now she quickly rummaged through, finding skirt, tights, and her favorite David Bowie t-shirt. If she was going to be forced to wear that robe all day, at least she could have her own personal uniform hidden underneath. She ran fingers through her bobbed hair, trying to tame it, and then, giving up on that always impossible task, slipped her feet into her doc martens and clomped as quietly as she could out of the room, away from the peacefully slumbering girls scattered in their beds, all under their charmingly mismatched yet matching quilts, haloed collectively in the golden light of the Hufflepuff basement dorm.
Exiting, disoriented, into the hallway outside the secret entry to Hufflepuff (Audrey wondered if she remembered which thingy to tap on to get back in, or if she'd never be able to return to her bed again), she all but ran into a girl leaning casually against the wall, flipping absently through a text book. Maybe she was waiting for a friend? Or maybe she too couldn't stand to be awake amidst all those peaceful sleepers?
"Hi," Audrey started awkwardly. "I'm new here." She flushed. As if that wasn't completely obvious. "Could you tell me where I go to mail a letter? Is there a mailbox somewhere?"
The girl gave a funny look but then cracked a friendly smile. "Audrey, right? I'm Juliette. Third year. There's no mailbox here. We send letters by owl. You can find a school owl over at the Owlery in the West Tower." No doubt at the sight of Audrey's increasingly confused expression (why was everything so hard here?!), Juliette seemed to take pity and offered further directions. "Best not to go through the school, though. You'll get hopelessly lost." The way she said it, Juliette made it sound like if lost, Audrey might never be found again.
"Go out that door," Juliette gestured carelessly to a stone arched door to her left, "and follow the path on your right around the castle till you find yourself at the furthest tower. That's the West Tower. Take the stairs up and you'll eventually find yourself in the Owlery. You'll know you're getting there because of the smell."
Audrey tried to hide how overwhelmed she felt by these directions, but she guessed she was failing miserably. Juliette gave her a final "good luck" that managed to sound two parts sympathetic and one part dismissive. Taking a deep breath, Audrey headed to the door Juliette had indicated and pushed, feeling cool morning air rush in as she left the sanctuary of the castle for the bracing autumn morning that awaited outside.
She made her way on the long path that wound around the castle to the West Tower, where she was told she'd find the Owlery. The sky was a vibrant blue that just seemed to reach up and up, the sun bright but with that half-heat that promised encroaching fall. There was even that smell to the air that Audrey loved so much, woodsmoke and forest and the quickly evaporating moistness left over from an overnight rain.
She felt emotionally wrung out, like a tea towel that had been twisted mercilessly. But even so, she just couldn't feel too depressed on such a beautiful morning. She found herself thankful that they had Autumn here in Scotland too, so at least she hadn't had to give that up along with bagels and cream cheese or her dad's French toast and all her other favorite things.
As she walked, Audrey contemplated the seemingly ridiculousness of her self-set mission. Frustration was building within her, tightening her throat. How could it be so hard to send a simple note to her mom? Already it was going to be too long till the letter went out, and goodness knows how and when her mom would be able to get Cat to her. Could her mom use the post office, or would she have to send Cat by owl too? She'd been prepared for the lag in mailing overseas, but how long would it take an owl to get from Scotland to New York City? Could an owl even do that? She sighed. Maybe a magical owl could. Maybe it would be instantaneous. If only.
But seriously. Was she really supposed to write her letter out and then tie it to the leg of an owl? It sounded preposterous, but so did a hat that told you who to be friends with.
Audrey persisted on her path despite her growing doubt and frustration. As it turned out, the path to the West Tower was straightforward enough, and eventually she found herself climbing up the steep stone steps to the top of the tower. She soon knew what Juliette had meant by the smell. As she climbed, the dry cool smell of stone and books was soon replaced by the smell of bird feed and droppings, like entering into one of the enclosed bird spaces at the Central Park Zoo. It was comfortingly familiar, actually. And when she took that final step into the Owlery, Audrey fell in love. She knew it immediately. It was a huge space, cavernous and open, and only if you craned your neck up could you see all the owls perched in their various nooks or ledges, some finding sunny spots created by the tower's many windows and skylights, some napping in the dappled shadows.
Audrey's cheeks tingled in the cool air of the Owlery. She felt like her brain was waking up for the first time since she'd set foot on the Hogwarts Express. Thank god. If only she could think clearly, then she could tackle anything. She could take on Hogwarts.
But how to summon an owl? Juliette had indicated that there were school owls that she could borrow to send a letter. Feeling foolish, Audrey cleared her throat and spoke uncertainly in the general direction of the owls. "Um, excuse me? Would any of you be willing to take a letter all the way to New York City? I know it's far away. But. It's for my mother and I'm new here and I'd really like her to get it." Audrey felt her throat tighten, as if tears were fighting with one another to spring up from her chest to her eyes.
After a moment's silence, a large golden brown owl fluttered down and landed on a wooden perch beside her. She looked into the owl's eyes, which were the color of maple syrup, and swore she could see kindness there. "Hi there," she ventured. "Do you have a name?" Maybe owls could speak here. Given everything else, it wouldn't be that crazy. But the owl just fluffed her feathers (Audrey was pretty sure it was a girl-owl) and sat patiently.
"I'm Audrey," Audrey persevered. "Let me just write out this note for my Mom, and then you can take it. That is, if you can go all the way to New York City?" It was crazy, but Audrey felt sure that the owl nodded.
She dug into the army navy bag she'd slung around her shoulder, pulling out a notepad and her fountain pen, and wrote:
Dear Mom,
Everything is fine here. Different, but fine. Good even. I made a friend named Sybil. Classes haven't started yet, but they will today. The food here is delicious. But I miss our spaghetti dinners. Let's have some right away when I come home for vacation.
Could you send me Cat? There are no bedside clocks here and I really miss her.
Thanks Mom. Please give Dad and Jonah a hug for me. I promise I'll write again soon.
Love,
Audrey
She folded up the note and stuck it into a Keroppi envelope she had bought for the very purpose, sealed it closed, scribbled her NYC address on it (with an intense pang of longing as the image of their apartment block rose, unbidden, in her mind's eye) and then turned to the owl awkwardly. "Um, here," she gestured, having no real idea how to proceed. The owl flew down to the ground from her perch, and Audrey wondered if maybe she'd misunderstood completely and the owl had no intent of taking her letter to NYC. But then the owl waddled toward her with a piece of twine in her beak, and Audrey understood. She secured the note to the owl's foot, and smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much." The owl again seemed to nod back at her, and then took off into the air, flying up through one of the many skylights into the open air beyond.
Audrey had been planning on retracing her steps on the outside path so that she could then find her way to breakfast from the Hufflepuff basement, as they'd been instructed. But when she emerged from the stairwell to the Owlery, she heard in the distance the clattering of plates and the chattering of voices. And not only that, she could smell the aroma of toast toasting, and other scents too, cinnamon and oh, was that bacon?
Emboldened by the smells and sounds, and by her successful venture to the Owlery, Audrey followed the sounds (and her nose) deeper into the castle.
The hallways seems to meander and criss-cross illogically, and sometimes she'd swear she was going in circles. Hadn't she seen just seen that portrait of the little girl with her goats five minutes before? Yet the chatter kept getting louder and the smells more intoxicating, until she could all but taste the bacon crumbling in her mouth. She turned a corner (where two sets of armor seemed poised in endless but motionless battle), and she was sure that on the other side she'd find the dining hall. And yet inexplicably, without even exiting the hallway, Audrey somehow found herself stepping over the threshold of a small room. Books lined the walls, and the wooden floor was covered with an ornately patterned rug, woven in threads of wine and gold and green into the pattern of a forest. Half of the room was filled with a large, walnut wood table around which mismatched wooden chairs were clustered as if they themselves were people gathered for a meeting. Audrey walked the perimeter of the room, running her fingers along the spines of the books, and then curiosity took over and she pulled down a nice solid medium sized one, cracking open its spine. Blank. The pages were all blank. More curious still, she pulled down another book, opened it, and found that one blank too. Soon she had her arms full of books, everyone of them blank. What kind of place was this?
When she could hold no more books in her arms, she put them back, trying to remember where each one has come from. She was sure she was putting some of them back in the wrong place, but really if they were all blank what difference did it make? Her hands free again, she began to inspect the other parts of the rooms for clues as to its purpose. She sat down at the table and stared, her fingers running across the grains of the golden walnut wood. Her fingers traced what appeared to be an engraving; not a formal one, but the kind someone had etched with a pocket knife. DMS, it read. Wizarding graffiti? Someone's initials?
Into the silence of the room, Audrey's stomach grumbled (she hated how consistently it did that!) and she stood hastily, wondering how she could have so lost track of her task. She headed back to the hallway, but as she did, a small golden plaque caught her eye, gleaming from its place beside the door jam. She stopped just for one moment more to read it. "The Other Library," it said.
***
By the time Audrey finally found her way to the source of all the smells and noise, she was starving. She felt as empty and cavernous as the Owlery. She filled her plate with scones and eggs and bacon and also helped herself to a bowl of porridge, her mouth watering at each option. She spotted some of her Hufflepuff dorm mates, and took a seat with them, diagonal from Sybil. Sybil greeted her with such a bright smile that it reminded Audrey of the sunshine when she'd first stepped outside that morning. To her left, Lucinda Kindly surveyed Audrey's food selections with an eyebrow raised. "Hungry? Don't they feed you in America?" Audrey felt her face heat, but she ignored the comment in favor of crumbling off a corner of delightful scone, and taking a grateful, no, make that soulful, sip of milky sweet tea. The tea tasted like home. Like just the way her mother made it.
She was contemplating the shiny inner bottom of her now empty tea cup, considering a refill, when she heard a clatter from the far end of a nearby table. The room's busting chatter abruptly ceased at the noise, as she and most everyone else turned in its direction. A tray, tea cup, bowl, and cutlery were scattered to the ground, the cup rolling on a twisty journey before it settled a few feet from Audrey, a wet puddle of warm tea in its wake. Audrey looked from the teacup to the source of the disruption and saw Dashiell, rigid and pale, standing frozen, his body all tense, angry, miserable lines. After a moment that seemed to stretch out till paper thin, threatening to fragment as the tea cup thankful hadn't, Dashiell grabbed his bag, almost viciously, and stalked out of the Great Hall. He passed Audrey on his way to the big double doors, and for a burning moment their eyes caught. His were shining with unshed tears.
"He's going to have a time of it," said a voice to Audrey's right, sounding amused.
Audrey pivoted, steaming. "What do you mean by that?" she spat out. She found herself facing a boy with olive skin and chestnut brown curls.
The boy smiled at her and his teeth were blindingly white. "Just what I said. A boy like that, in Slytherin. It's not going to go well. And he doesn't look like the type to know his place."
"Know his place?" Audrey said disbelievingly. "Did you really just say that? Do you even hear yourself?"
He grinned self-deprecatingly. "Cool it, red. I didn't mean it like that. Just, a muggle born in Slytherin? If he wants to survive this place, he needs to lay low for a while. Not flaunt his comic books and then act like he's better than the pure bloods."
Audrey grasped her teacup in her hand. She wanted desperately to crack it over this boy's head, but she didn't. She silently patted herself on the back for her self control.
"You don't know him," she retorted instead. "You don't know what you're talking about. Who do you think you are?"
"Desi Mendoza, pleased to meet you, Red." He extended his hand in Audrey's direction. Audrey pointedly ignored the greeting. He withdrew his hand and continued on smoothly, "And I beg to differ. I do know some of what I speak. If that boy wants to get on here, he needs to make at least an effort to blend, for a little while at least, to get to know the school and our ways. And to show proper respect for the institution and its history and traditions. It wouldn't hurt you, either, you know," he said, glancing inexplicably down at Audrey's feet.
Audrey felt her face heat up as her temper rose. "Me?" She retorted. "Please, do tell me in what way I've offended the Hogwarts code."
"Well, your shoes, for one."
Audrey stared in confusion at her beloved, comfortable, worn in docs. "What's wrong with my shoes?"
"I'm sure they're quite fashionable in muggle circles," he said, but his tone suggested he doubted this was at all truth, "but they're not part of the Hogwarts uniform."
Audrey wanted to protest that no one had told her any uniform was required beyond the robe. She thought of her lucky t-shirt hidden under her robes and wondered if that too was forbidden. But she took a deep breath, and decided that this boy wasn't worth her time or energy. "Thank you for your input, Desi," she said coldly, trying to infuse his name with all the disdain she felt burning in her chest. She stood up, still clutching her tea cup, and made her way to the other end of the table, where the teapot beckoned, a benevolent excuse. She poured the sad last dregs of tea, wondering why tea wasn't magically refillable this morning as the pumpkin juice had been at the feast the night before. She made the best of what was left, adding as much milk as possible to fill up the cup, and made a big fuss of stirring it, inwardly counting to one hundred and praying that Desi Mendoza would get the message and leave. When she finally looked up, he had indeed wandered off and joined another cluster of students. Audrey took a newly empty space next to Sybil and sighed. It was going to be a long day.