September 8, 2015

Rory sat beside a young girl in the back leather seat of a Ford Fiesta. The girl was laughing hard, and Rory knew that she felt like her stomach was about to burst from joy. The girl's twinkling eyes focused on the two figures in the front seat.

"Aren't you excited, though?" asked the voice of the figure in the passenger's seat. Her voice sounded like bells and calmed Rory instantly, and she had dark brown hair flowing over the edges of the seat.

"I'm so excited!" squealed the girl, auburn pigtails bouncing. Her face fell suddenly. "Do you think I'll be able to make friends?

A deep laugh echoed from the driver's seat, where a few patches of blond hair were visible above the headrest. "Honey, I've never known any girl to make friends faster."

The smile instantly returned to her face. "You're right. I'm going to meet so many new people! And they'll understand what I can do!" exclaimed the girl. Rory wondered what she meant by 'what I can do.' Could she mean magic?

"That's right sweetie," said the figure in the passenger's seat. Rory felt instantly calm again, and she wondered why this stranger's voice had such a pleasant effect on her. She was itching to see her face, but when the turned around to smile at the girl, the figure's face was missing. All defining features had been blurred, and for some reason, Rory felt an aching in her chest.

All of a sudden, she heard a terrible screeching noise. Screaming from the passenger seat. A sharp acceleration to the right. A flash of white light from the front of the vehicle. Screeching of brakes. A cracking sound. The sound of crumpling metal, breaking glass, more screams, and then silence. Everything went black.

Rory suddenly woke up sweating and gasping for air. She rubbed her eyes, but the dream replayed over and over again in her head. The vanished girl, the flash of light, the screams, the crumpling metal, and the blurred face of the woman in the passenger seat. Who was she? Why did Rory feel guilty for her missing features?

After a few minutes, Rory's heartbeat slowed and her mind quieted. The images of the accident dissolved into a large stone-walled room. A dust-filled light streamed in through a tall window. The familiar room housed twenty beds aligned neatly in a row, each covered in a red bedspread and snoozing students. There were trunks placed at the ends of each metal-framed bed and a small, wooden table at their sides, where students placed their glasses and wands as they dozed. She looked down at her bed and thought to herself how strange sleeping on a bed still was; until six days ago, when she arrived at the magical school called Hogwarts, she had not slept on a bed for approximately five years. While beds were undeniably more comfortable and should support sound sleep, she had to admit that her last few nights were restless; she kept having the recurring nightmare about the young girl in the back of a car.

When Rory finally caught her breath, she collected her books and walked to the Great Hall to study over breakfast. The hall was nearly empty except for ten Ravenclaw students who had likewise decided that studying over breakfast would be an effective use of their time.

Rory sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, unzipped her bag, and sorted through her stack of books. On top was her unfinished copy of Sagan's Cosmos. She tossed it aside. Beneath it was her potions book. After attending her first private Potions lesson yesterday and creating a backfiring Anti-Coughing Potion-it induced coughing fits rather than stifling them-she realized that potion theory was much more important than her ability to follow instructions. Evidently, she had not added enough flobberworm mucus, reversing the result of the potion. However, she still did not understand why a reduced amount of the juice would reverse its effect, so she cracked open her potions textbook to the Flobberworm Theory section.

The flobberworm is a ten-inch, toothless brown worm, Rory read. It eats vegetation, especially lettuce and cabbage. It is a fairly boring creature, with a Ministry of Magic Classification of only X. Flobberworm mucus is green and sticky and is used to thicken potions. Flobberworm mucus is a vital ingredient in the Anti-Coughing Potion. When too little is used, the solution produced is too thin to actively coat the back of the throat and allow for its magical healing properties to soak in.

Rory thought this made sense. If the potion wasn't thick enough, it would slowly drip down the throat and induce coughing. However, if it was sufficiently thick, it would stick to and heal the throat.

As Rory thought, a bell tolled so loudly that it shook the tables and benches around the Great Hall. Rory sighed. She knew that her peaceful studying was about to end. She flipped to the next page, which discussed the preparation of flobberworm mucus.

There are two ways to produce the needed amount of flobberworm mucus. The first way uses fresh flobberworms. These are flobberworms that have been stored for six weeks or fewer. These worms can be simply sliced and allowed to drain. The second way uses worms that have been stored for longer. These must be sliced multiple times and crushed because the longer flobberworms are stored, the more dehydrated their mucus becomes.

Rory decided that the school flobberworms must be over six weeks old because she had sliced her flobberworm and allowed it to drain, as the procedure had instructed, but still her potion lacked mucus. Next time, she would crush the flobberworms. As she turned the page, four people took seats around her. A hand reached over and shut her textbook.

"Hey, I was reading that!" Rory exclaimed, glaring up at the hand's owner. It was Abigail.

"It's too early for studying," Abigail moaned.

"And that's why it's Rory and not you who's about to crush the Slytherins in another debate," chimed Fay. Rory rolled her eyes. Since the first day of Muggle studies, she had been picking fights with the Slytherins. Well, she was really just picking fights with Nate. He always said the most naive and close-minded comments about muggle technology. It was both insulting and infuriating, so Rory had made it her goal to argue with him. To argue and win.

"Ugh. Are you talking about Muggle Studies again?" asked Jerry "That's such a dumb class."

Abigail glared. "Not as dumb as you are," she said, grabbing a muffin off the table and storming off to class.

"The class is pretty fun," Rory said, placing her Potions textbook in her bag.

"So are quidditch games," Matt countered. "There's one on Saturday. It'll be fun." Rory remembered the term 'quidditch' and thought back to the photo of the flying broomstick from the newspaper she viewed last week. Her face melted with awe momentarily before she realized that she would not be the one flying. She would be watching, and she had never been particularly fond of watching any sport. She prefered to participate.

"Maybe," she responded.

"But we're playing against Slytherin!" said Matt.

Rory twiddled her thumbs. There was that unending rivalry again, the one that could create or destroy friendships in the blink of an eye. "I don't know, Matt," she said. "I have a lot of studying to do, and while flying looks really fun, I'm not sure if I would enjoy watching it." Rory imagined zooming through the air. She was itching to try it. "Anyway, I should probably head to class." She stood, grabbed a danish, and left for Herbology."

The entire morning was a drag. In Herbology, Fritz's younger sister decided to charm clumps of dirt to chase Jane around the greenhouse, and she refused to say the counter spell until Rory walked over and commanded her to do so.

Arithmancy continued as usual. Rory sat next to Isla and tried to concentrate on the lesson despite the constant chatter. And at the end of the class, Rory once again agreed to meet with Isla after school in the library to help her learn the material she talked over. After all, teaching her should reinforce Rory's mastery of the subject.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Rory sat next to Jane who spent the class complaining about more pranks from Fritz's younger sister. After a week of class, Rory still was not sure what this class was about. The first year segment was just a history class that went over key points of the first and second Wizarding Wars. Rory was not sure how the history lesson would teach her defense against dark arts when she still did not know what dark arts were; the professor never explained them. Rory gathered that they were taboo from the tone of the lectures, but neither the professor nor the textbooks had embellished on the subject.

Muggle Studies was the last and most worthwhile class of the day. Today focussed on the Internet. On cue, after a twenty minute presentation of the Internet as a global communications network, Nate raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Graff?" asked the professor, sliding her glasses up on her nose.

"Why do muggles need this?" Nate questioned, pausing for a second to glance at Rory. "I mean, if I want to talk someone, I'll just find them and, you know, talk."

Before Rory could think of a sassy remark, the professor used Nate's remark as a segue. "What a great question," she commended. "Let's discover what the Internet can communicate that is so valuable to muggles." The professor Accioed tablets to each desk and snapped her fingers.

Instantly, several rings sounded from the bottom of Rory's bag. Blood rushed to her face as she ducked behind the desk, hurriedly unzipped her bag and searched for her phone. She felt the pressure of dozens of eyes on her neck, and as she emptied several books, she attempted to shrink even more behind her desk. She sighed with relief when she finally felt the cold plastic case of her phone between her grasping fingers. She placed it on her lap and straightened her posture, looking pointedly at the front of the classroom, hands folded. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nate laughing. She felt the urge to punch him.

"Anyway," continued the professor, looking sternly at Rory, "you should all have muggle tablets in front of you that the house elves should have connected to the Internet. Your assignment is to 'surf the web' as the muggles say, and find out what is so powerful and intriguing about this network." Having finished her spiel, the professor turned and sat at the front desk.

Rory already understood the importance of the Internet, of course: transmission of information. Tons of it. She could lose herself in the Internet for hours if she used the correct databases. Only two years ago, she had spent eleven hours straight reading through archived copies of Scientific American. Rather than working on the assignment, she tried to casually glance at her phone.

She had received a whopping fifteen text messages and twenty emails. Unsurprisingly, all fifteen texts were from Odi.

9/1/2015 10:02 pm
How was your day off?

9/2/2015 12:17 pm
Did you just send me snail mail? LAME

9/2/2015 12:56 pm
You're SWITCHING SCHOOLS?!
Are you mental?

9/2/2015 12:57 pm
Call me.

9/2/2015 12:57 pm
Now.

9/2/2015 11:08 pm
You were serious about the no
communication thing at this school.

9/4/2015 12:32 pm
I just sent in the transfer forms.

9/5/2015 11:36 pm
Call me.

9/6/2015 11:01 pm
How's the new school?

9/6/2015 11:15 pm
What is the new school?

9/5/2015 11:43 pm
Where is the new school?

9/6/2015 10:30 pm
Does it have more physics?

9/7/2015 11:36 am
No longer renting the flat.

9/7/2015 10:52 pm
You know what you should do when you're not studying? Call me.

9/8/2015 12:50 pm
Hello?

Nineteen of the emails were notifications about articles recently posted in Scientific American, European Physical Society, and IEEE Spectrum. One was from Rory's boss, wishing her luck in her new school and asking about her winter break availability. Since Rory still did not know her winter break schedule, she decided to message Odi first.

9/8/2015 1:27 pm
Hi. I just got connected
to the internet for a short
while. The new school has
seven years worth of
physics, isn't that great!

Rory put her phone aside and turned on her tablet screen to start the assignment when she received a response.

9/8/2015 1:30 pm
Cool. Call me.

9/8/2015 1:32 pm
Can't. Class. How's work?

9/8/2015 1:34 pm
Fine. Why did you have to go to a
school seemingly in the middle of
nowhere?

9/8/2015 1:37 pm
Call you soon. Promise.

Just as Rory set down her phone once more, the professor asked for volunteers to share what they had found.

"I think Rory should go first," Nate sneered.

Rory shrugged and began to stand when the professor responded, "Thank you for volunteering Mr. Graft. What did you find?"

Nate stood, holding the tablet and showing it to the room. On his screen were several animated penguins carrying objects that looked like pompoms with eyes. Rory face-palmed. He was on Club Penguin of all places. There were hundreds of intellectual websites that the Internet made available, but no! Nate had to find the one intended to waste time. "I found that the Internet is a colossal waste of time," he said. "Within the first five minutes. I joined this game so that I could pretend to be a penguin and talk to strangers. But these strangers have no use to me. They do not provide valuable conversations, and therefore, the Internet is just another useless muggle toy used to waste time."

"That's because you're playing a game built for nine-year-olds," snapped Rory.

"Miss Jones, why don't you tell the class what you found," said the professor.

Rory had not prepared anything, and Nate's smirk warned her that he knew she had not done the assignment. She shrugged and picked up her phone, following one of her email links to an article about gravitational wave detection.

"People use the Internet to communicate knowledge," Rory argued. "This is an article about the gravitational waves that were recently detected. Muggles research the world around them, and publish their findings on the Internet so that more people can participate in the active seeking of knowledge."

She heard several fake coughs from the Slytherin side of the room, and she believed she heard the words "nerd" and "dork" passed around. Rory looked at Abigail, hoping that she would provide support, but she just tapped her fingers against the desk in anticipation of Rory's retort.

Rory shrugged. "The Internet is just a waste of time if you're dull enough to treat it that way," she concluded and sat back down.

Abigail smiled at her, commending Rory for yet another battle won against the Slytherins. Rory's blood curdled. Abigail had refused to help her win, but she had no trouble congratulating her for it. Hypocrite.

As soon as the bell tolled to signal the end of class, people rapidly began evacuating the classroom. Rory approached the professor at the front desk.

"Excuse me?" she asked. The professor glanced up. "Could you by any chance keep the Internet up? My family doesn't really do the whole owl-post thing."

"I could," nodded the professor, "but you can't spend every class on your phone as you did today. Speaking of which, you should probably keep better track of your phone." She nodded in the direction of Rory's desk. Rory turned in time to see Nate slip her phone into his pocket.

She felt instantly like she had switched places with Jane. Of course, when Rory was sorted into Gryffindor, Nate refused to be her friend, but for some unknown reason, it was still okay for him to steal her phone?

She ran to her desk, haphazardly shoved her books inside her rucksack, and raced out of the room. She looked to her left, seeing nothing but chattering students walking away with books in hand. She looked to her right. Nate was there, leaning against the wall and scrolling through her phone. Rory stomped up to him.

"I believe that's mine," she said, holding out her hand to receive her phone.

Nate just high fived it. "Who's Odi?" he asked.

"None of your business," she said. She lunged for the phone, ripping it away from Nate's hand and stormed off down the hallway toward the library to study with Isla.

When she was about halfway there, she noticed a piece of parchment sticking out of her phone case. Hesitantly, she removed it. It had three lines of writing:

Fly

Broom Closet 2

Password: "For the win"

She thought of Nate. His teasing and friendliness on the train. His glares the next morning. His arguments and glares since. Yes, Rory wanted to try flying, but not many people knew that. She had told Jane a few times, and she had told Matt this morning. Perhaps he overheard. The more pressing concern was the nature of this information. Was this just another Slytherin prank, or could she safely go to the broom closet and try flying?

As she pushed the heavy library doors open and saw Isla, peppy and boring as ever, she weighed the outcomes. If this were a prank, she risked being caught and sent to the headmistress, but punishment could do little harm to Rory. After all, Odi wouldn't know or care if she got into trouble. If it were a prank, she also risked using a faulty broom, but she figured that if she started flying close to the ground, she could test the broom's safety before trusting it at a dangerous elevation. In the end, she decided that she would try flying, prank or not.