Harry, Othniel, and Tallulah waved goodbye to Ana, then trotted off to Herbology. The three youngsters whispered amongst each other about what their first class was going to be like, then Tallulah remembered that they were going to get their wands which would likely take up the bulk of the class period. They then shifted their conversation about their theories about how they got their wands, and what they hoped their wands would look like.
Othniel pulled his schedule out of his knapsack. "It says that Herbology is taught on the first floor, in the classroom next to the greenhouse area." He looked around to make sure they were heading in the right direction; to his relief he spotted his other two roommates about thirty paces ahead of them. "I think we're on the right track… let's just follow Quentin and Jeremy."
Tallulah's amber eyes sparkled as she pointed to a window ahead and slightly to the right of them. "There's one of the greenhouses – we're not far!"
Sure enough, they found the classroom. It was exceptionally brightly lit, and considerably more humid than the rest of the castle, as there were numerous potted plants and fungi in the classroom. Some of them were locked away behind glass or even in crates, ostensibly because they posed a certain danger to inexperienced students.
Harry sat between Othniel and Tallulah in the second-from-front row; the desks were cold to the touch and the seats were very hard and quite uncomfortable to sit in. Othniel tried to twist and contort his body in hopes that there was at least one viable sitting position that didn't cause a significant degree of discomfort; but all his efforts were in vain.
"If it's any consolation," Tallulah offered, "much of Herbology is going to be spent in the greenhouse area…"
"Where it's going to be even hotter and stuffier?" moaned Othniel. "Talk about going from the frying pan and into the fire!"
"Eighty-five degrees isn't that hot," huffed Tallulah. "Well… maybe where you're from, but it's pleasant to me!"
"It's not the heat so much as it's the humidity," countered Othniel. "Eighty-five degrees by itself is okay I s'pose, but with eighty-five percent humidity? That's a hard pass…"
Tallulah rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't last five minutes outdoors in a Georgia summer."
"You wouldn't last five minutes in an Oregon winter. I'm not talking about Portland where all the wussy fake outdoorsmen live – I'm talking about real Oregon winters – up in the Cascades," Othniel shot back. "Y'know, real mountains unlike the glorified speed bumps you have out East!"
Harry groaned – for a split second, he was tempted to knock Othniel and Tallulah's foreheads together. "Hey you two – cool it! Our teacher's going to be here any moment, and I kind of want to give her a good first impression."
"Sorry," Othniel and Tallulah said, still glaring at each other.
At that moment, a somewhat short, plump figure swept in the room. She had short dark brown hair that was beginning to grey, and instead of the expected wizard robes, she wore something that strongly resembled a safari suit, complete with a felt bushranger hat. The expression on her face was very difficult to read – she was neither smiling nor frowning, and the way she scanned the classroom sent a bit of a chill down the spines of her students.
Harry got the feeling that this witch was probably a bit on the humorless side, though judging by her gaze, she likely had plenty of kindness as well. She pulled out a clipboard from one of her coat pockets, and began to call roll. When she got to Harry's name, she blinked a few times more than usual, but otherwise continued down the list with no fuss.
When she finished taking roll, she clapped her hands once, and began making a formal introduction. "Good morning, class."
She got a few mumbled "good mornings" in response, which clearly did not satisfy her. "No, no, that will not do. It's not that early, you know. Let's try that again, shall we? Good morning, class."
After a more coherent chorus of "good mornings," she nodded in approval. "Ahh, that's more like it. Welcome to Herbology! I am Senior Professor Leigh Ellen Frye, but you may simply address me as Professor, or Professor Frye. I don't like being called 'ma'am' so let's stick with just 'Professor', if you please."
She gestured to the Horned Serpent students, who were mostly concentrated on one side of the room. "Ah, there's my Horned Serpents! In addition to being your Herbology instructor, I am also your head of house. As such, I am responsible for the safety, welfare, and discipline for all those in my house. As such, I have the authority to suspend and even permanently dismiss any delinquent students. Although such disciplinary measures are rare, I will invoke my right to use them should I deem them necessary. I implore you all not to test my patience; you will not like the reward."
Her lips curved upwards into a gentle smile. "With that out of the way, I'd like to talk about more pleasant, more exciting things. Classroom participation and helping struggling classmates can earn you valuable house points." She pointed at the Horned Serpent students and chuckled. "You may be in my house, my little scholars, but I assure you, that you won't get any special treatment from me. You've got to earn your points just like the other three houses."
She stood back to address the class as a whole. "So… first things first… does anyone know what herbology even is? Don't be shy…"
Tallulah raised her hand after just a brief moment of hesitation. "Yes, Miss Slater?"
Tallulah smiled broadly before answering in her usual squeak. "Herbology is the study of plants, fungi, and algae. Some of them have magical properties which can be used either by themselves, or in a mixture such as a potion."
Professor Frye beamed. "Marvelous, Miss Slater. Five points to the Horned Serpents!" Harry and Othniel high-fived Tallulah for her efforts. "Now, as this is first-year Herbology, most species we will be working with are fairly safe to handle, but I still want you to keep your wits about you as mishaps do happen to inattentive first-year students from time to time."
She blinked a few times before continuing. "Oh! I almost forgot – this is your first full day at Ilvermorny! Before we do anything else, it's high time that we all get our wands. After being sorted, receiving a wand is the most important rite of passage an Ilvermorny pupil goes through. Everybody up and out of your seats, and follow me please!"
She led a line of nearly fifty students out of the classroom, and down several corridors and then down a marble spiral staircase. Professor Frye then led them down one more hallway and came to a complete stop near the opposite end, which upon first glanced appeared to be nothing more than a dead end. She then placed her palm on a discolored brick, which caused the wall to shake and rattle momentarily. Some of the students shrieked, thinking that there was an earthquake, but the rumbling suddenly stopped.
A panel appeared on the wall, with four colored buttons – red, blue, yellow, and green. Professor Frye then pressed the buttons in a very specific sequence, but she did it so quickly that it was but a blur to everyone else.
A large archway opened, revealing a huge chamber that resembled a library, with every wall nearly covered with tall shelves. In the middle of the hall, an elderly man in bright white robes and an equally white beard sat at a simple wooden desk. He appeared to be reading some sort of scroll, and didn't even bother to look up at the students who entered the chamber.
"Welcome to the Wand Selection Hall," declared Professor Frye. "This is where you will receive your wand – you will be responsible for your wand henceforth, so take great care not to lose or break it." She paused for a brief moment to ensure everyone was following what she was saying. "When Elder Gomer calls your name, you will come up to the desk in the middle of the room. He will tell you where to pick up your wand. He has taken a painstaking record for each wand distributed to Ilvermorny students for many, many years… to give you an idea, he has personally seen some of your great -grandparents receiving their wands."
Elder Gomer then addressed the students in a very airy, wheezy voice. While not loud, there was a haunting quality about it that caught every student's attention. "As the good professor said, I am Elder Gomer, Crafter and Keeper of Wands. I have plied my trade for nearly a century – indeed, I take great pride in my work. I hope you are as satisfied with the quality of your wands as I am… what you are about to receive are not merely wands, but true labors of love. If you take care of your wands and treat them with respect, I guarantee they will take care of you. Bear in mind, these wands are not to leave school property… you must turn your wands in to your head of house prior to any holidays or breaks. This is one of the last vestiges of Rappaport's Law that still applies… you will learn more about that in your History of Magic studies."
He then proceeded to read off the list of names from a parchment. It didn't take long for him to get to Othniel:
"Mister Beckett… let's see… ten and one quarter inches, yew. Sasquatch hair core." He pointed to a bookshelf near the far left corner of the room. "Section Absaroka, row Digamma." Othniel went to the back of the hall to retrieve the wand. Initially, he was unsure where to even begin to find it, but as he got closer, a black box from the middle shelf began inching itself out, apparently to make it easier for Othniel to find. He grabbed the box, and gasped in amazement when he saw a brown wand with three pyramid-shaped knobs on the thicker end. He took it back to Elder Gomer, who nodded in approval, then gestured for Othniel to return to his group.
When it came to Harry's turn, he felt a bit uneasy at the way Elder Gomer looked at him. "Mister Potter… interesting, most interesting. Only a very, very special wand will do for you… hmm… eleven inches, holly... phoenix feather core." He pointed to the furthest shelf in the back of the hall. "Section Tenochtitlan, row Upsilon." As Harry approached the back of the hall, he swore the entire shelf began to glow… he reached out and grabbed the case. When he opened it to inspect his new wand, his eyes grew to the size of silver dollars. This… this is my wand, Harry thought to himself. This is where my wizarding journey truly begins.
When he returned to the table where Elder Gomer sat, the old man stared through Harry in a most unsettling way, and whispered so softly that only Harry could hear. "Your wand… you must guard it with your life, Harry Potter," he warned. "This is an exceptionally powerful wand… its potency is exceeded only by one… an ancient rod that I thankfully did not craft…" The pupils of Gomer's eyes shrank to tiny dots. "The temptation of power will undoubtedly tug at you one day. You must resist, Harry Potter, or you will share his fate."
"Whose fate?" Harry whispered back, his voice rife with confusion.
"The embodiment of black magic itself," Gomer murmured. "A warlock so dark, few mortals dare to speak his name. He is as much of a slave to the darkness as much as he owns it."
"Does he own this other wand?" Harry asked.
Gomer smiled wistfully. "No. And I pray he never does… if the Orb were ever to fall in his hands, the whole world will burn." He gently grabbed Harry by the wrist, and began peering through his bright green eyes.
Harry slowly put a hand to his forehead – he felt his scar tingle somewhat. Several flashbacks went through his head – several bright green flashes, multiple bodies on the ground, an argument between a hippie and a witch, being burped by an eight-foot tall man-giant, then being handed off to who must have been his Uncle Roger…
"You will fight the darkness one day, Harry Potter, and you will defeat it once and for all," Gomer continued. "It is your destiny. The journey will be long and difficult, but even in your darkest hour, you will not be alone."
Gomer smiled again, but in a gentle, grandfatherly way. "Do not worry about this right now, Harry Potter. It will make sense one day, but for now, enjoy the innocence that goes along with being a child. One day, you will no longer be a student, and you will be responsible for more than just yourself."
When Harry returned to his group, Tallulah tugged on his sleeve. "Are you okay, Harry?" she whispered. "You look like you've seen a ghost…"
"I did, in a sense," admitted Harry. He pointed at Gomer with his head. "That old man up there… I get the feeling that he's really wise and powerful. He knows things about me that I didn't even know about myself… at least things I don't remember."
"Does he frighten you?" Tallulah asked.
"A little bit," admitted Harry. "But not nearly as scared as I would be if he were a dark wizard. I'm just glad he's one of the good ones."