2 - The Lost Ravenclaw

An hour later and Martin was cursing the entire castle. Each hallway felt like a dead-end in a tortuous maze. The paintings on the walls didn't help, either, with half of them jeering and jabbing Martin for being lost and the other ignoring his plea for directions. The rotating staircases didn't help any. Any students he saw hurried past him, either snickering or absorbed In their own affairs. He found some hope, eventually, in the form of a painting of a fat lady, who looked down at him as he approached.

"Password?" She said.

Martin shrugged, "I don't have one."

"Then you don't get in!" The fat lady said.

"I wasn't given a password." said Martin, "Is this the Ravenclaw room?"

"These." the fat lady corrected sharply, "are the Gryffindor dorms."

Martin shut his eyes in frustration and rolled his head around his shoulders. He rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Do you know where Ravenclaw is?"

"Not here!" sang the fat lady. Her sudden baritone further annoyed Martin and he did a quick about-face. Just as he was at the end of the hall, the sing-song of the fat lady chased after him, "Try the WEST tower!"

Without any other clue, Martin followed the fat lady's advice, at least the best he could. Finding direction in the school was troublingly hard. Every hall looked similar and heaven forbid one takes a stairway. Frustrated to a bubbling redness, Martin took a moment to lean against the glass of one of the tall windows. Staring up at the cloudy night sky he thought of home.

Right about now his mother would be stirring clean the stew pot with an animated sponge while the dishes stacked themselves into the nearby cabinet. Martin would be watching from the nearby table, either admiring her form or peppering her with questions about it.

It was during one of those nights that his Hogwarts letter arrived. The big barn owl tapped gently at the stained-glass window at the kitchen's backdoor and once let in, casually dropped the letter on the table and exited in one graceful circle.

His mother gave the bird a distasteful stir. She made a comment about her dislike of the animals.

"The post would be just as good." She said. She plucked a feather from Martin, who was spinning it between his fingers. She had been very pleased at the letter, however, breaking her normally stoic expression with a broad smile.

During their trip to Diagon Ally Martin got his first taste of the Wizarding world. He disliked having to use a silly secret passage. He understood the purpose but thought a locked door would do just as good.

The first visit was to the wandmaker. He was a very old man, overflowing with hair. He measured out a wand for Martin as though he was being fit for a suit. Then to the broomstick store, where it was the same procedure. The bookstore was the best stop and Martin and his mother both enjoyed poring through various tomes until the store became too crowded to loiter any further.

His mother shed no tears during his farewell. She hugged him tight, tighter than she'd ever done and told him to learn all he could, no matter where he ended up. She slipped him a few galleons with her last forehead kiss.

Back at the window, Martin reached into his pocket and jangled about the coins, now multiplied since the purchase of a chocolate frogs changed out a galleon. He removed the frog from his pocket, still unopened. He had been too nervous to eat them on the train, only purchasing them as not to miss the opportunity.

He pried open the lid. The little brown frog inside jumped out at once, hitting the floor and hurrying away. Martin threw his hands into the air and turned to give the window a stern look of honest frustration before chasing after it.

For enchanted chocolate, Martin was very surprised how fast it could move. His footsteps beat steadily off the hard stone. The frog hurried around two corners and on the third, led Martin to run straight into his big prefect. He had been watching the sudden appearance of a chocolate frog when Martin collided with him. Martin bounced off as though he hit brick, falling squarely on his bottom.

"Oi." the prefect said, "why aren't you in the dorms?"

"I got lost." said Martin. He got to his feet, rubbing his backside. The prefect stared him down until a dawn of realization broke.

"Shoulda given you directions, then." He grunted, "guess I got caught up in the moment."

"May I get directions then, sir?"

"Sir?" the prefect looked down at his badge, "Oh, right. Don't mind being polite. Name's York. York Allenway."

"I'm Martin."

York just about turned Martin's hand to mush with a handshake, then knocked most of the air from his lungs with a slap on the back.

"Ravenclaw's just down the hall." He said, "just follow your frog. I'd lead you but I gotta patrol for a while yet. It's almost curfew."

Had it been that long? Martin looked up again at the dark sky. He supposed it was already late when they arrived.

"Thanks." He said. He gave York a curt nod and ducked around him.

"Good night!" York said before turning the corner.

True to his word, a big wooden door sat at the end of the hall. Warm with sudden relief, Martin jogged the rest of the hall to it. His chocolate frog was sat in the corner, out of bounce and on its back. Martin picked it up between index finger and thumb. It had accumulated a fine layer of dust. He used his free hand to give the big brass knocker a yank.

Nothing. The hard frustration from before returned. He gave another two hard tugs then slammed the knocker against the door. The sound was like thunder through the hall.

"How do you escape a dungeon with just a staff?"

The low voice emanated from the bronze eagle on the door. It made Martin jump, squeezing his frog. He stared at the thing. It had asked him a question. Why? Martin looked back over his shoulder in hopes of seeing some help, but he was alone. Then, the fat lady from the Gryffindor entrance sang through his thoughts. He slapped his forehead. Of course, he snarled, this is the password.

What was the question? How to escape a dungeon with just a staff? The obvious answer would be to use magic. Perhaps an explosion or an unlocking spell, Alohamora, was it? One could also use a summoning charm to get the key. His mother used those all the time at home.

But wait. Martin crossed his arms in thought. The door specified staff. Not a wand. That meant magic probably wasn't the answer. The staff could be used to maybe pry open the bars, though Martin knew the answer was probably a lot more obtuse than that.

He looked up at the knocker and took a chance with the first nonsense answer that came to mind.

"Break the staff in half. Two halves make a hole."

"That is acceptable." the door said. It swung open enough for Martin to grip and sneak through. It closed tightly behind him.

The Ravenclaw common room was a wide space with white marble walls and statues in arches. A dozen or so plump chairs and couches littered about with just as making wooden tables and their stools. The only light came from the dying fireplace. Everything made a hard shadow pointing away from it. Martin surveyed the room. A glint of light off of something shiny caught his attention and drew him to a pair of chairs facing one of the big windows. Rain spattered the glass, the sound soothingly melodic. Sitting in the right chair was Charlotte. She was looking at Martin, the firelight glinting off her eyes, cheeks and hair. As he approached she furiously wiped her face with her sleeves, pulling on her hat from her lap and keeping the brim low.

"Still awake?" asked Martin. He was painfully aware how nervously pathetic he sounded, trying to play it cool.

Charlotte sniffled, "I was waiting for you. I was going to yell at you for what you did."

"Was?"

Charlotte shrugged weakly, "I don't feel like it anymore."

Martian sat opposite Charlotte. She turned to look at her feet, showing Martin the top of her hat.

"I'm sorry." said Martin, "I didn't think that would happen."

"I thought you'd been expelled." said Charlotte, "that big prefect dragged you out and then came back in alone and talked to the teachers… the head of the house came to talk to me and he seemed upset when I told him what happened."

Martin didn't say anything.

"And then everybody started making fun of you and me, calling us the Aquamentals. They started saying we were just showing off and when I told them about what actually happened they just kept laughing and… and… "

Charlotte sniffled away a sob under her hat. She wiped her cheeks again, "I just wanted today to be perfect. I was so happy and then you… "

"You can yell at me." Martin said.

"I'm too tired."

"Well…" Martin looked at his hands, then extended an open palm to Charlotte, "you can have this."

A teary blue eye peered from under the brim of Charlotte's hat. Her eyebrows turned upward at the sight of the dirty chocolate frog smashed across Martin's hand.

"No thanks." she said. She slid out of the chair, making a noticeable effort to keep her face hidden,"I'm going to bed."

She wiggled her arm until her wand slid from her sleeve into her hand.

"Lumos!" she said. The tip of the wand lit up in a tiny orb of soft, clean light. She held it in front of her as she started towards the girl's dormitory door. Martin watched her go, his mind racing to think of something to say.

"Thank you for waiting up for me!" He said. Charlotte paused only enough to recognize that she heard, then vanished through the dormitory door. Martin sat in the dim, just him and the patterning rain. He looked down at the corpse of his chocolate frog, closing his fist around it with a sigh.

"Dear mother." He said, his voice ominously hollow in the empty common room, "it's been a great first day."

He turned to look at the dormitory doors. With another sigh he stood up. He withdrew his wand from inside his robe and held it up in front of him.

"Lumos!" He said, flicking his wand like a whip. The end lit up like a sun, filling the common room with a tremendous light. It reminded him of the stadium lights during football games his uncles used to take him to. In a panic, Martin dropped the wand. The light persisted still. In a further flurry of panic he grabbed it up and shoved it tip-down into the cushions of his chair. The light vanished from the room, though the chair illuminated as though it were an alien spacecraft descending upon Earth. Martin sluffed down in the seat with it, staring blankly at the window.

"A great first day." He said.