writings on the wall

Birds of a Feather: First Flight - Chapter 8

2006-09-30T09:04:08Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Author's Notes: Once again, real life gets in the way of fic writing--hopefully nothing will get in the way of my next installment.

This one is not as full of plot as I would like it to be, but I picked a good stopping point. There will be more about my group's winter vacation in the next installment, including an unexpected visitor at Hogwarts, courtesy of a certain letter...

Thanks to Haggridd and Madhuri--I'm such a pain, yes, I know. Thank you.

*~*~*

Chapter 8:
The Start of Vacation

"It's freezing!" Carolina held her hands close to her bubbling cauldron in Potions class, hoping to warm her cold fingers while Snape inspected their solutions. Antigone shivered beside her, their breath coming out in thick mists. They were most grateful when Snape dismissed them all with only a minimum of points taken away, and they could scramble back to Ravenclaw Corners. The First-Years headed back to the common room en masse, but Morag wasn't among them. He had left his book behind, and was running back to get it. The look on his face when he realized where he'd left it showed that he would rather eat slugs than go back to Snape's Dungeon, but he had no choice. It was his book, and he was a Ravenclaw.

As soon as they made it inside, Carolina let out a sigh of comfort as she sank into a chair, glad that the Ravenclaw Corners' fire made the entire common room warm and toasty in the evenings. It had been extremely drafty in the halls since the heavy snowfall last week. She was also happy that the Christmas break began in just a few days. Last week Professor McGonagall had taken the names of those who would be going home on the Hogwarts Express, and Carolina had signed up immediately.

"I can’t wait to go home," she sighed. "A nice long break to catch up on casual reading instead of everything being for class. I already wrote Papa and told him that I’m coming home."

"Bet he can’t wait," Padma said. "I know Mother and Father are eager to see to see Parvati and me. So’s my baby brother Amar, though he probably hasn’t noticed much. I bet he’s grown a lot now."

"Bet you can’t wait to see your parents either, Antigone." Carolina smiled.

Antigone stared over at the wall, petting Shadow who was asleep in her lap. "I’m not going home, actually."

"Not going home! Why not?" Carolina looked at Antigone in disbelief. "Don’t you want to see your mom and dad over the holidays? They probably miss you a lot."

"I do want to see my mum very badly—and my dad, of course," Antigone added hurriedly, stumbling on her last words as if they weren't quite the truth. "They might miss me as well, but I don't think they’ll mind that I’m staying over Christmas."

"But they haven’t seen you since September," Padma asked concernedly, looking up from the Transfiguration book in her lap. "I’m sure that your father and mother would love to hear about what you’ve done since you came here."

"Maybe you can even show them some of the spells you’ve practiced, even though we shouldn’t do magic over the breaks. I’m going to show my papa a few spells. Little minor ones. I bet they would love to see real magic." Carolina grinned brightly at Antigone, hoping to get a pleasant reaction.

She got quite another reaction. Antigone whimpered as though she'd been locked up and kicked, all the while staring at the Fourth Year's wall as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. She wouldn’t say another word to either one of them, looking as if she was fighting back tears.

Carolina blinked. "What’d I say wrong?" she asked. Antigone didn’t reply.

"Come on, Tig," Padma pleaded, "Tell us, so we'll know not to say it again. You’re one of the best witches in our class, especially at Charms. Wouldn’t you like to show others how good you are at magic, especially your family?" She leaned over to touch Antigone on the arm.

Antigone pulled back as if Padma's hand were on fire, her eyes wide. With an outburst of tears, she leapt to her feet (dumping Shadow on the floor in the process) and ran out of the common room fast as she could, tears running down her face.

Carolina watched Antigone run off, hurt at her friend’s reaction. Padma looked like she’d been slapped. What’d I say wrong to make her clam up like that? I don’t even know what I did wrong to deserve such a harsh reaction. She should tell me what I said wrong, at least. And I’m supposed to be her best friend… Even Shadow looked confused, meowing his distress.

Morag walked in a few seconds later, his book under his arm. "Snape almost took points off for returning to his classroom! I'd rather have left my book with Peeves!" He stopped speaking when he saw Carolina slumped over in her chair, sniffling. "What’d I miss?" he asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"I just asked Antigone why she wasn’t going home over the Christmas break." Carolina's lower lip trembled. "I must have touched a nerve, because when I said that she would probably like to show off some things she learned, she clammed up and wouldn't say another word to Padma or me. Then we asked about her family again, and she took off running."

Morag sighed and set his book down. He didn’t sound aggravated, only upset at the way Antigone had acted. "I’ll go see if I can find her. I didn’t see her run past me, but logic dictates she’s somewhere on the grounds. I’ll be back with her, okay?"

Carolina bit her lip to fight her tears. "O—okay." She watched Morag head back out the door, then looked over at Padma. "I don't know what I did to deserve that."

"Neither do I." Padma's eyes reflected the hurt Carolina was feeling. "She's never reacted like that, no matter what we asked. We must have touched a sore spot, or something."

"She's supposed to be my friend—my best friend, as a matter of fact-- but she acted as though I hit her or something."

"I don’t know what’s wrong with her," Padma said. "I wish she’d tell me."

Carolina nodded, miserable. I wish she would tell me too.

*~*~*

Morag sighed heavily as he made his way up and down the corridors. It was bad enough that he had to endure the Potions Master's sneering glare when he went back to retrieve his book from Snape's classroom. Now Antigone was overreacting to what had probably been a harmless and sincere comment about her family, and had hurt Carolina and Padma—most likely without realizing she had done so. It didn't help that he hadn't heard anything from his uncle since that last letter. It was enough to make him go ask Professor McGonagall if he could still sign up to go home instead of staying with Antigone over the Christmas break-- but he wouldn't break his promise to her.

He was almost to the great hall when he heard noises behind a suit of armor. "Antigone?" he asked, hoping it was her.

"Yes?" a voice asked softly. He quietly looked around it to see Antigone curled up behind the armor, sniffling.

Morag kneeled down on the cold stones and leaned towards her. "Antigone, Carolina and Padma told me you ran out of the common room crying when they asked you why you were going home."

Antigone looked embarrassed, but nodded.

"Now why’d you react like that, Tig? Carolina thinks she’s committed a crime just this side of assault, and Padma looks like a whipped puppy. There’s no reason to act like you’ve been insulted beyond reproach. You really should go back and apologize, and you know it!"

"I—I know. But...but..." Antigone started to tear up again. "I can't go home to my family and show them real magic. It’s bad enough I’m here at Hogwarts—going home would only make the situation worse."

"Bad enough you’re here? Tig, what do you mean by that?" Morag sat fully down on the stones, ignoring the chill. "Antigone, were your parents going to stop you from coming to Hogwarts?"

Antigone nodded sadly, but didn’t say anything.

"Why?"

Antigone looked up at Morag, eyes full of tears. "Do you promise not to tell Padma or Carolina anything until I say you can?" Her eyes were pleading, almost mournful.

Morag hesitated, then nodded. "I promise."

Antigone’s buried her face in Morag’s shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. "Daddy hates magic."

*~*~*

Padma turned to see the door open and Morag and Antigone walk in. "He found her!" she said, catching Carolina's attention.

Carolina looked up from her book and broke into a smile. "Good, maybe we’ll finally understand why she acted like that." They both rose to their feet, but Morag turned to them and gave them a look that clearly said, Wait. Antigone followed him, silent. Her eyes were red rimmed, but she hadn’t said anything or even looked up from the floor.

Morag motioned for her to come over to the wall design. Antigone and he had become the best in Charms over the term, and so they had been appointed to add the final charms to the almost completed design. The competition was that Sunday, since everyone was heading home on Monday. Antigone scrambled over to the First Year Wall, pretending to be very fascinated with the charm she was going to perform. Morag nodded and then walked over to Padma and Carolina as Antigone started to add sparkles to the wall.

"She’s okay now," he said, sitting in a chair. "You touched a nerve, but she understands you didn’t mean to."

"So why’d she run off like that? She scared us half to death." Padma looked worriedly at Morag.

"And why wouldn’t she want to go home?" Carolina added.

Morag sighed, then looked at Antigone. "Her father’s against magic."

Padma’s eyes widened in shock. "Against magic? But why?"

"That I can’t tell you. That’s all she told me."

Padma gave Morag a look that clearly said he was hiding something, but Morag didn’t blink. I think Morag’s lying again. I wish he wasn’t so good at it, I cant tell if he’s honest or not. She was about to ask more, but Carolina cut her off.

"Why'd she tell you before me? I thought I was her best friend. I’ve confided my secrets to her…but she won’t do the same." Her voice trailed off.

"I don’t know, Carolina," Morag replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But she did tell me to tell you."

Carolina brushed his hand off, glaring past him and at Antigone. "I hate finding things out through a third party." Then without another word, Carolina spun around and stormed towards her dorm, slamming the door behind her and knocking one of the glass ornaments off the First Year wall. It shattered at Antigone’s feet, startling her.

"Dammit," Morag cursed. "How are we going to fix that?"

"Move away, move away!" Penelope Clearwater made her way to the wall, her wand out. "Reparo," she said, pointing her wand at the shards. They flew together and resealed, the ornament as good as new.

"Thanks," Padma said as Morag hovered the ornament back to its place on the wall.

Penelope shrugged. "No use in having to try and clean it up the Muggle way. I hate dustpans, and you never get the glass completely off the floor." She returned to her books.

Padma looked at Antigone. She still looked upset—Padma could tell Antigone’s moods now, though she managed to hide them well for the most part. A wizard or witch had to really know Antigone to know the way she showed her emotions. Right now Padma could see that Carolina’s reaction had unnerved her. Carolina has a point…Tig should tell us things and not make us have to figure it out ourselves. But she didn’t have to be mean to Antigone. She is her friend.

Padma picked up her books and headed to the dorm to put them away. But why would a Muggle hate magic, unless they were given a reason?

*~*~*

Sunday night was a celebratory time at Ravenclaw Corners. Everyone who was going home would be on the Hogwarts Express first thing in the morning. All the other girls in Antigone's dorm had packed their things. Antigone had not, of course, as she was staying here. Carolina hadn't said a word to Antigone since her outburst a few days before. Antigone couldn't fault her, exactly, since she hadn't been completely honest with her—but it still hurt.

All around the common room, students were exchanging presents and chatting. A bunch of Sixth and Seventh-Years had brought food from the kitchens and butterbeer from Hogsmeade, and everyone was feasting. Antigone noted that, though Carolina was sitting near Morag, Padma and herself around one of the tables with all the First-Years, she wasn't saying a thing to her if at all possible. Antigone sighed, softly, sipping her butterbeer in the silence.

There was a loud clap from one of the Ravenclaw prefects—Manny Rawling, a Sixth-Year—and everyone turned to face him. "My fellow Ravenclaws, now is the time to reveal the designs for the class walls. I know you’ve all been working on them since the start of the term. Unless you're a Sixth-Year, that is, because they’ve been doing things at the last minute their whole time at Hogwarts." This got giggles from the Sixth-Years. "The designs will be revealed in descending order, as usual, starting with the Seventh-Years, and everyone can then see the fruit of our labors."

Antigone watched quietly as the charmed veil draped over the Seventh-Year door fell away to display their wall. She thought it looked much better than the First-Year wall—then again, the Seventh-Years were only a few terms away from being fully trained wizards and witches. She turned to look at Carolina, who had moved and now was sitting at the far end of the bench between Lisa and Mandy. Padma was still sitting with Antigone and Morag—Carolina was the only one who wasn’t with them. I should tell her…but I’m scared to tell anyone. Morag only got as much as he did because he found me first. Antigone looked at her lap. Then—then why didn’t Carolina come look for me? If she's really supposed to care for me that much wouldn’t she have come after me?

Her thoughts were broken by Manny’s voice. "And now, last but not least, the First-Years!"

"That’s our cue," Morag said, rising to his feet. Antigone stood up beside him, trembling. Performing charms in front of Professor Flitwick and the class was one thing, but in front of all of Ravenclaw Corners—what if she messed up?

Morag held up his wand, pointing at the dark blue curtains that had been hung around the doors. Moving their wands in opposite directions, the two chanted, "Movova!" The curtains parted, revealing the fully decorated wall. Antigone had yet to see the completed wall.

Across the top of the door hung ornaments and decorations that the Muggle-born First-Years had brought with them or had sent from home. Antigone had added a soft Lumos charm so that they each had a little aura around them making them glitter and shine independent of the firelight. The area around each door was covered in thick velvety fabric that Mandy had asked her mother, a fashion designer, to send her. Morag had added shimmers to the cloth so that it rippled in varied shades of blue looking like a waterfall. All over both doors were pictures of each of the First Years— Carolina had learned how to develop her pictures so that they moved, and had set them in small frames. All over both doors were pictures of each of the First-Years: There was Oliver, bouncing up and down and waving excitedly; Carolina with Nike on her arm, flapping her wings softly and looking around with her large owl's eyes; Padma and Morag on brooms, zipping back and forth; Lisa, grinning and holding her pet cat Bobby; even Antigone was there, peering shyly over As The Gods Make It with Shadow perched on her shoulder. The centerpiece was a picture of them all in brilliant color, waving and hugging each other while Lisa and Joseph held up a banner reading "Ravenclaw First Years, 1991."

Manny clapped as hard as he had for the other designs. "Shall we vote now?" There were unanimous nods around the room. Manny walked over towards the center, stepping down from the table on which he'd been standing. "Hold your hand up for the door you like the best. No double voting—I’m very accurate with my Arithmancy and I’ll know. No voting for your own door."

" ‘No voting for your own door’?" Antigone asked Padma. "Why not?"

"Cho told me about this—this is the first year this was put in place. The Seventh-Years who graduated last year voted as a bloc for their own wall, and won almost every time. Plus, it’s kind of unfair to vote for yourself."

Antigone nodded, and held up her hand for the Fourth-Year wall which had been charmed to snow--a fine sprinkling that started at the top of the doors and dissolved as soon as it hit the stone floor. Finally, Manny pointed his wand towards the First-Year wall.

Hands rose at every table. Antigone was happy to see that Cho and Lawrence had their hands up and were waving them enthusiastically. Even some of the Seventh-Years had their hands up. Manny looked around and waved his wand over the group, as he'd done for each of the walls before, then pointed to the piece of parchment posted on the main doors. "Tablulata!" he announced, and numbers blossomed on the paper. They started to shift and move around, showing all the votes that had been counted. Finally, the numbers stopped shifting and the parchment rolled up. Manny walked over and pulled it from the door, unrolling it and stepping back onto the table. "Hmm... third place goes to the Sixth-Years for their rendition of The First Christmas at Hogwarts. Second goes to the Fourth-Years, with their Snow Falling on Fourth-Years."

Manny took a deep breath. "And first place goes to…hmm, this is definitely a first since I’ve been at Hogwarts. "And First place goes to the First-Years, for their First Shots Display!"

*~*~*

Carolina cheered and hugged Mandy. "We won! We won!" She could barely contain her excitement. It had been fairly tough, learning to develop the pictures so that they didn’t stay still. She had gone through a goodly amount of photopaper and various shots that were of poor quality before getting the best ones for the wall. She turned to see Antigone happily squeezing Morag's hand, and a streak of jealousy went through her. She hadn’t spoken to Antigone since she’d gone storming out of the dorm a few weeks back. She was still upset that Antigone hadn’t spoken to her first. Antigone seemed to get closer and closer to Morag since their detention. Still Carolina felt left out, as the other three were seated together and apart from her.

"So what do we get as a prize?" Joseph asked, saying out loud what all the First-Years were probably thinking.

"The satisfaction of knowing you bested all the other classes?" Manny teased. The First-Years collectively shot him a look that would melt steel. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" Manny recanted, holding up his hands. "Can’t put anything past you guys, can I?" He reached into a bag by his foot and pulled out what appeared to be ten wrapped packages. "Some of these set some of us older kids back a bit, but we never recant on a promise. Each of the books you asked for as a prize, special order from Flourish and Blotts." He grinned as he handed each of them a package.

Carolina squealed with delight. She’d listed Maria and the Griffin of West End, as she’d been looking at Padma’s copy and wanted one of her own. However, when she opened it, it wasn’t the book she’d asked for; it was a copy of As The Gods Make It. She knew exactly who it was for—Antigone had reluctantly returned the school's copy only when Madam Pince had said keeping the book out for well over a month and a half was pushing it.

She looked at Antigone, who had just turned up to look at her. They stared at each other tensely, then Carolina rose to her feet and made her way to Antigone. She didn’t look at her as she thrust the book at her, whispering, "I believe that I’ve gotten your book by mistake."
Antigone looked up at Carolina, and Carolina saw out of the corner of her eye that that she was fighting back tears. Carolina, however, was not going to back down until Antigone apologized first. She felt Antigone take the book and hand over her own. There was a moment of silence, then Carolina started to walk back over to where Mandy and Lisa sat.

"Carolina?" Antigone’s voice was little more than a whisper.

Carolina turned around, looking at Antigone. "Yes, Antigone?" she replied, refusing to use her nickname.

Antigone looked at her feet, where Shadow was batting around the wrapper of her book. "Nothing."

Nothing. You know, it’s really annoying when you don’t tell me anything, Tig. Carolina turned back around and sat between Mandy and Lisa.

"What was that all about?" Mandy said, holding her copy of Draconea Dracae: A Beginning Study of Dragons. (Once Mandy had discovered the dragons she had always liked as a small child were real—though not as nice as she had dreamed—she had poured her free studies into learning all she could about dragons.)

"Nothing important." If she says it’s nothing, I’ll treat it as such.

The next morning, as Carolina and Padma were heading out to catch the Hogwarts Express back to London, Carolina didn't say anything more than a passing "good-bye" to Morag and Antigone. Padma gave them both tight hugs and told them to take care before heading out to the carriages. Padma waited until they were alone in a compartment on the train before turning to Carolina. "Don’t you think you’ve been a little cold to Antigone since that whole incident about her father? You do know that you're hurting their feelings."

"If she really cared about anybody’s feelings, she wouldn’t have made Morag tell me for her."

"She did the same to me, you know, and I’m not acting all up in arms about it."

Carolina shrugged and opened the book. She had decided to read it on the train ride home. When she opened it, her eyes widened.

"What is it, Carolina?" Padma asked, looking over Carolina’s shoulder.
Carolina held out a piece of neatly folded parchment, written in Antigone’s neatest script. Beside it was one of the pictures Carolina hadn’t used on the wall—of her and Antigone, hugging each other closely and waving. Antigone had one of her rare smiles on her face—Antigone almost never smiled widely for any reason—and Carolina was grinning broadly. The two waved at Carolina, and she stared at it before reading the letter.

"Dearest Carolina,
I know that you’re very upset that I had Morag tell you about my father’s not liking magic. I should have told you face to face, rather than having him speak for me. It’s a very touchy subject with me and I don’t like addressing it, but that’s no excuse. I hope that you can forgive me. I’m not upset that you’re not speaking to me still, but I hope that your present makes up for it.

On that topic, I didn’t get to give you your Christmas present today. I meant to, but I didn’t have a moment with you, and what I had to give you is very personal. I had to do the best I could. Look in your suitcase as soon as you get home; I’ll see you after the holidays. Hope to speak to you then.

Still your dearest friend, even if you are no longer mine,
Antigone

Carolina looked down at the note, and guilt swarmed over her. Antigone’s not mad at me! and…and she still got me something… She reached into her tote and pulled out a small roll of parchment.

"What are you doing?" Padma said, with a tone that clearly said she knew exactly what Carolina was doing.

"Writing an apology note to Antigone. She’s right, I’ve been beastly to her since that day."

Padma leaned back and munched on a Chocolate Frog. "I knew switching your orders would work."

Carolina looked up from her letter. "You what?"

"I knew that Antigone was too timid to speak to you when you’d brushed her off so coolly, and I knew that you are as pig-headed as a Gryffindor when it comes to apologizing for anything. So Morag and I went to Manny yesterday and told him to switch your orders around without telling either of you if we won. Then I had Antigone write a note of apology to you and slide it in the book right before you switched back."

Carolina gasped. "How deceptive!"

"It worked, yes?" Padma licked the chocolate neatly off her fingers. "Now finish your note so we can send it off soon as we get to London."

Carolina grinned, knowing Padma was right, and continued writing.

--Tasha

Birds of a Feather: First Flight - Chapter 7

2006-09-11T05:55:28Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Author's Notes: Eee, crap is no thanks. Obstacle after obstacle...well ,the chapter is out now.
I have recently been informed that my beloved Morag has a girl's name. Well rats, chalk it up to Stupid American. Anways, I'm not changing the name, or the gender. There's a reason for this, but I'm not telling! There is Quidditch in this chapter, a poke at the Gryffs, and the relevation that Morag's pretty bright. Oh and I chip down a little more of Antigone's world--but no peeking yet.
Thankoo Haggridd and Madhuri. I promise, I'll try to get the next chapter out a lot more quickly tha I did this time.

*~*~*
Chapter 7
Battles on Broomsticks

November had come to Hogwarts, and with it even more cold weather. Padma didn’t go outside if she could help it—every morning the ground was covered in frost and the lake had almost iced over. She preferred to stay in the library. She was very glad that flying lessons had ended this past Tuesday. Padma was now a top flyer, though Morag was still much better. He and Joseph were the two Ravenclaws who excelled at flying, and Padma wondered if they would try out next year for Quidditch. The first Quidditch match of the year would be that Saturday-- Slytherin versus Gryffindor-- and Padma was excited. Not only would it be her first Quidditch match, but Harry Potter would be on the field as well. Many people were giving him words of encouragement, but the Slytherins were mostly jeering at him.

There was midnight Astronomy class that night with the Gryffindors, so Padma was reading up on the constellation Orion for homework. Carolina had been studying her Charms text, practicing Lumos charms in the darker corners of the common room. She was now at the table, working on Astronomy homework with Padma. Morag had finished his homework, and was now reading Families of the Dark Era along with a few other books about the History Of Magic. Antigone was also reading a book, As the Gods Make It, but was not nearly so absorbed as Morag. Padma didn't know why Morag would be interested in such a book, other than for research. The Dark Era was not a topic that fascinated most people. Padma was just taking notes on the cycle of Orion in the sky when Morag slammed his book down and groaned, catching her attention.

"What’s wrong, Morag?" Padma asked.

"Nothing, nothing." Morag slumped back in his chair. "I’m just not getting anywhere with this research of mine."

"What is it that you’re researching?" Antigone asked softly, placing her bookmark in her book and setting it on the table.

"Information about my father’s family. I don’t know anything about them—what with my father dying when I was so young and all."

"Won’t your family help you any?" Carolina asked. "That should be the first place you look."

"Not really. I wrote Aunt Opaline. She didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. My mother knows nothing about father's family-- I remember asking her as a small child." Morag stared at the wall. "Everything about my family’s a mystery. I mean, I know a lot about my mother’s side of the family, but my father's side is—I don't know—obscured, somehow. It's as if no one wants to speak about the MacDougals."

Padma shrugged. "I don't claim to understand what you're talking about—I've always known about my family—but why are you reading Families of the Dark Era? I think that is the last place you would want to find anything about your family."

"There were all those whispers when you were being sorted. I do remember that." Carolina set down her quill. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Do you suspect it was because your father was somehow involved in something not quite respectable?"

Morag's eyes widened. He looked as if he wanted to say something, then just shook his head and looked very embarrassed. "Those whispers were probably because of my name."

"The MacDougal part?" Padma asked. "I mean, there was whispering when that Weasley kid was sorted, because they’re so noticeable—is it the same thing with your family?."

"What about Harry Potter?" Antigone asked Padma.

"That’s different. His whole name’s widely known, and I think they were whispering because of Morag’s last name." Padma turned back to Morag. "Well?"

"It might have been," Morag said, and Padma noted that he sounded like he was covering up something. "But I suspect it was because of my first name."

Carolina turned to Morag, a look of recognition coming over her face. "I noticed your name sounded odd, but I couldn't place why. Is your name unusual for you?"

"Yes, but it wouldn't if I were a witch." Morag blushed at the admission.

Padma nearly gagged on her Every Flavor Bean—she had gotten one that tasted exactly like shoe polish. Spitting out the bean into a handkerchief and visibly shuddering, she looked up at Morag. "A witch-- you mean a girl?"

Morag nodded, looking at the floor, then up at the ceiling-- anywhere but directly at his friends. "I have a girl's name—why, I don't know. I just know that when I was born, my father named me Morag—my mom didn’t have anything to do with naming me, I learned later on. It was very embarrassing, every year of primary. On the first day of school, the teacher always called the roll, then look at me with surprise when I confirmed that my name was Morag. I didn’t even know it was a girl’s name until I got into primary school—I thought it was just a name." He groaned. "It’s as bad as naming a girl ‘Mark’ or something."

"What would have prompted your father to give you such an obvious girl’s name?" Padma wondered aloud. "I mean, he must have known that it would cause you endless teasing."

"That's what I want to know. Hence all this looking stuff up."

Carolina looked at her watch. "We’d better hurry—Astronomy class is in an hour and I’m not yet done with my star chart."

Padma leaned over. "What constellation are you tracking? Professor Sinistra has me studying Orion."

"Aries. I’m paired with Hermione Granger, and she always has as many notes as a Ravenclaw would. I think she’s in the library more than we are at times—and that’s saying a lot."

"Here." Padma pushed over the copy of The Wizard’s Sky Atlas. "Get the notes out of this book. It’s very detailed on the topic."

*~*~*

Friday night, after everyone had gone to bed, Antigone found she wasn’t able to sleep. Too many thoughts were turning over in her head, mostly inspired by As The Gods Make It. So she quietly slipped into her bunny slippers and out of her dorm with Shadow at her heels and the book in her hand, hoping that the silence of night in Ravenclaw Corners would enable her to concentrate. The book was due the next day and she wanted to get as much out of it as she could before she turned it back in. Antigone was surprised when she got to the common room to find Morag awake as well. He was in black pajamas with plain slippers, curled up in a chair and reading Families of the Dark Era.

"Morag, you’re still up?" she said, startling him. He was the only one in the common room, other than a Sixth Year who had fallen asleep with her head in her textbook. He twisted in his chair to look at her, closing the book and marking his place with his finger.

"So are you." Morag answered. "What brings you out of bed, Tig?"

"My mind at work, actually. I’ve been asking myself all these questions about things since I checked this book out. A lot of really interesting facts are in it—things that I would have never thought about or known."

"Such as?"

"Have you ever heard of the Greek myth of Arachne?"

"The one who challenged the Goddess of wisdom Athena and got turned into a spider? Yes, I’ve heard it a lot. I was delighted to see that that beautiful tapestry of Athena is the entrance to our common room. She’s always been my favorite Greek goddess."

"Listen to this." Antigone pulled another chair close to Morag’s and flipped it open to a bookmarked page. The picture showed a very serious looking woman with dark grey eyes that blinked and an owl perched on her hand. "Athena was a real person, and she wasn’t a goddess. She was a witch, however, and a very powerful one, at that. She lived back in the classical Greek era. She was very solitary; people never saw much of her or her family. She was a skilled weaver, and sold her tapestries for large amounts of money. But she always sent them to market by owl rather than deal with Muggles."

"Is that why Athena is always pictured with an owl?"

"Exactly! It wasn’t her token animal, it was just her pet. A Muggle woman—that’s Arachne—had a rival practice and didn’t like that Athena never showed her face in market. So she started bragging that Athena wasn’t that good of a weaver if she couldn’t even come to market herself. Athena found out through the person that sold her tapestries and Apparated to market that next week."

"And she issued the challenge right then and there?"

"Yes. Arachne wouldn't back down either, so they went on with the competition, right there in the marketplace. Athena used magical weaving though, and her tapestry glittered and the figures moved around in it. It’s very hard to weave a tapestry that moves too, so this was adding insult to injury. Arachne got very upset when she realized that she was competing against a witch. Although her weaving was good, it couldn't match up against magic, so she went and ripped the whole tapestry apart."

"She didn’t!"

"Sure did. Stormed right over and grabbed the end and ripped it down the middle. Not that Athena couldn’t fix it, mind, but the idea that some Muggle would rip up her work just because she was better upset her greatly. She whipped out her wand, transfigured Arachne into a spider before anyone could blink, then Disapparated with a pop. Athena never came to the market again, and never sold another tapestry to the Muggles."

"All that because her work was ripped up?"

"She was known in the local wizarding community for her short temper. Poor Arachne had to be turned back into herself by another wizard who’d seen the whole event and felt sorry for her, so she didn’t stay a spider. The Muggles there passed this story down. But truth became fiction, fiction became myth, and myth became clouded."

"Very interesting. Are there more stories like that in your book?"

Antigone nodded. "All sorts of stories, stories about wizards and witches that ultimately were passed down in Muggle religions. It’s really made me think about things."

Morag looked at Antigone. "What kinds of things?"

Antigone gulped and looked at the floor, where Shadow was batting around a quill someone had forgotten. "Just my perception of things—stuff I never thought about before I came to Hogwarts."

"Stuff that has to do with your family?"

Antigone’s eyes widened in fright and she shrank back into her chair, silent. He’s not supposed to suspect that! What has he figured out about my family? He’d hate me if he knew the truth. Morag sat there, the silence between them dragging out. Finally Morag broke it.

"There’s a reason I’m reading Families of the Dark Era, and it’s not just because it’s full of interesting facts." He opened the book to where he’d been holding it and pointed to a picture on the page. Antigone leaned over and stared at the image for a while. It appeared to be a wizard with thick red hair and deep grey eyes. Sitting in front of him was a young witch with long auburn hair and the same steel grey eyes, and standing beside him was another wizard who looked like he could have been the first man’s twin. They were all shifting in place, and looked a bit wary, as if they could trust only each other. There was most likely a caption under the picture, but Morag’s hand was covering it.

"Who are they?"

"Look really closely at the picture, Tig, and show me why you’re a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff."

Antigone looked up at Morag, and the connection clicked. "Morag—you’ve got the same eyes," she whispered.

"Yes I do." Morag pulled his hand back and uncovered the caption, allowing Antigone to read it.

"Geoffrey, Opaline and Alexander MacDougal. Don't you have an Aunt Opaline-- Miriam's mother?"

"There she is in the picture, only twenty years younger. She wasn’t even married yet—so Miriam wasn’t born then."

"What’s a picture of your aunt doing in this book? Does this have anything to do with what Alph said about you in the library? Was—was someone in your family in Slytherin?"

"My father, actually." Morag looked disgusted, as if he’d just eaten an unpleasant Every Flavor Bean. "For all I know, my aunt and my uncle--that's the other man in the picture, an uncle I knew nothing about before I read this--were Sorted there as well. The MacDougal clan goes back in history as pure-blooded and prestigious as the Malfoys themselves, and is just as snooty about the purity of their Wizarding blood." Morag dropped his voice and looked around, making sure that the Sixth Year was still asleep. "For all I know, my father could even have been a dark wizard. The MacDougals had all turned away from You-Know-You before he had gained most of his power, but they still thought he had good ideas. They even thought that You-Know-Who might have had a point about getting rid of Muggle-born witches and wizards."

"That’s horrible! And you come from those people?"

"I come from them, but I’m not one of them." Morag gave Antigone a pleading look. "You can't tell anyone, Tig. Got that? You can’t tell Carolina, or Padma, or anyone else in Ravenclaw Corners. I wouldn't have confided in you at all, but I’m hoping that I can trust you to keep this a secret. Promise me, Tig. Promise you won’t tell anyone that my father was a Slytherin, and, for all I know, a former Death Eater!"

*~*~*

Antigone squirmed uncomfortably, but Morag didn't shift his gaze. Come on, Antigone, he thought. I’m trusting you.

Finally, Antigone whimpered. "I promise. I won’t tell anyone." Staring into her lap, she looked like she was going to burst out crying at any moment.

"Thank you, Antigone. Are you going to stay up any longer?"

"N-no. I’m going to go to bed now. See you in the morning, okay?" She clasped her book to her chest and shuffled back into her dorm, her head down and Shadow at her heels. Morag picked up his book and headed to his dorm, then kicked off his slippers and climbed into bed before pulling the bed curtains around him. He leaned back against the pillows, but he was fretting about Antigone and the secret he’d asked her to keep.

Morag felt horrible, making her keep a secret this large, but chances were that her secret about her own family was just as big, if not quite so bad. Antigone was a trustworthy witch, he knew, but she was carrying a heavy burden all alone when it came to her family. Perhaps now that she was keeping such a secret about him, she might realize that people trusted her, and that she could trust them in return.

He pulled the covers over himself and fell into a deep sleep.

*~*~*

Saturday morning the school was bustling and full of energy. It was the first Quidditch match of the year, and Morag was very eager to see how it would go. He was discussing the potential outcome with Joseph and Cho over breakfast. Cho was very interested in watching Harry play so she could think up her own strategies.

Morag was about to point out that it was unlikely that she would learn any great strategy from a person who had never before even seen a Quidditch match, let alone played it, when a school owl flew in and dropped a letter on his pancakes. He flipped it over, wiping syrup off it, then looked at the front. It only said one thing, on the front, in deep green ink: "Miss Morag MacDougal." He groaned inwardly and ripped it open, wondering who would have addressed him in such a fashion—if it wasn’t a mean spirited prank by a Slytherin.

It was the first line that made him quickly stuff the letter into his pocket. Carolina blinked at him, her mouth full of porridge, and she had to swallow before asking, "What’s that you’ve got?"

"Not mine," Morag said, stuffing his mouth with more pancake. "It was addressed to a Miss."

"But someone could mistake you for a miss."

"Then it’s definitely not for me, as everyone who knows me personally knows I’m a boy despite my name."

"Then why’d you put it into your pocket?" Padma looked at Morag suspiciously.

Morag didn’t answer. Instead, he finished off the rest of his orange juice and rose to his feet. "I’ll be back later. I'm going to get my cloak—it’ll probably be pretty cold in the stands." As he walked off, he gave Antigone a quick look. He caught her eye and motioned for her to follow with a quick jerk of his head.

Seconds later, she was right behind him, wrapping bacon in a napkin. "Why'd you signal for me to follow?" she asked, looking surprised.

Morag pulled the still slightly sticky letter from his pocket and held it out. "This is for me, Antigone. Right after Halloween I sent a school owl to my Uncle Alexander—the one in the book that you saw."

Antigone blinked. "You didn’t know if he was alive or not, and you still wrote to him?"

"Sure did. He just wrote me back. He’s never seen me though—he probably does think I’m a girl."

"Morag! What if he’s some kind of dark wizard? He might want to hurt you!"

"I don’t know that, Antigone. But he’s the only person who might tell me anything about my father. It’s just a chance I had to take." They whispered the password to Ravenclaw Corners—it had just changed to "He who dies with the most books, wins."—and scrambled inside. Morag ran into his dorm to get his cloak—it would look pretty suspicious if he didn’t have it—and took Antigone’s hand. "Let’s go to the Quidditch pitch—we can talk about it after the game, okay?"

*~*~*

Carolina was completely confused. Seconds after Morag had left without explanation Antigone had scrambled to her feet, took her tote and made some excuse about taking her leftover sausage to Shadow. She hadn't even had sausage for breakfast; she just grabbed her bacon and took off. Carolina turned towards Padma and asked, "What was that all about?"

Padma shrugged. "I don’t have a clue. At least it's Morag who got a weird letter this time—the last time, Antigone got the mysterious letter, then she took off and wasn't seen again until the Monday morning after. Morag's letter couldn't be that bad, else he'd have told us. That's how he is."

"Well, I hope they’re both back in time for the game or they won’t get good seats." Lawrence, who had been listening, rose to his feet. "Ready to go to the stands?" Carolina nodded. "Good! I can’t wait to see how this Potter kid plays."

Carolina joined the rest of the school heading out to the pitch. It was very cold, and she was glad that she’d gotten her cloak earlier. Lawrence was rubbing his binoculars with the sleeve of his robes to clean them. "Why do you need the binoculars?" Carolina asked. "I thought the stands were raised up high."

"They are," Lawrence replied, "But sometimes you want to get a bit closer to the game." He pointed to some seats that were near the front row. "Let’s sit there so we can see the action best."

As they sat (leaving a spot for Antigone and Morag) Carolina turned around to look at the quickly filling stands. Three of the Gryffindor first years were unrolling what looked to be a large banner. It wasn’t until they got it fully open that she saw the Gryffindor lion and "Potter for President" in large letters. Hermione Granger was in the stands as well, and Carolina saw her wave her wand near the letters. The paint started to flash different colors just as Parvati sat beside them. Padma had beckoned her over. With her was her friend Lavender Brown and another Gryffindor first year, Marilyn Hopper.

"Oh, I can’t wait for the game to start!" Parvati babbled, squeezing Padma’s arm. "It’s the very first game of the year and Harry’s in it!"

"I hope he does well," Marilyn said, pulling her cloak tighter. "Ever since he, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger started being friends, he's been studying the sport as if it was life or death!"

"When did they become friends?" Carolina asked just as Morag and Antigone squeezed in beside her.

"Right around Halloween, from what I heard. Hermione went and confronted that nasty troll all by herself." Parvati looked disgusted. "I mean, honestly! She went to take on a full grown mountain troll all alone, just because she'd been studying them. She just ran off after it without thinking!"

Morag snorted under his breath. "Not thinking first? It sounds like she does belong in Gryffindor, then." Carolina bit her lip to stop from laughing—Morag was known to crack jokes about any house not his own, and his perception of Gryffindors was "all heart, no head." Parvati shot him a dirty look.

"Oh, you’re just jealous because Harry Potter’s a Gryffindor," Lavender snapped back.

"Why would that be the cause? I hadn’t heard a thing about him before I came to Hogwarts, I surely can’t be jealous of him."

"Anyway," Parvati continued, pointedly ignoring Morag's comment, "Harry and Ron found her just before she was killed and saved her from what would have surely been her death. After that, they’ve just been around each other. I guess it’s things like life and death that forge tight friendships."

"Look!" Carolina pointed at the pitch, as she saw the two teams come out with their brooms in hand. "The game’s about to start!"

*~*~*

Padma clapped and cheered as the two teams took off into the air. Madame Hooch freed the Quaffle, which flew up and was immediately caught by one of the Gryffindor Chasers. Padma kept her eye on the teammates, but with fourteen people zipping around she could barely keep up. She did see that Harry Potter was way above the others, gliding around and looking at the others. "What’s he doing way up there? He can't catch the Snitch just buzzing around at the top."

"I'm not so sure." Cho replied. "Roger’s been watching the reserves play against the main team and he tells me to keep an eye on the other Seeker so I see what he’s doing. I’ve been practicing with the practice Snitch."

"Practice Snitch?" Lavender looked confused.

"Yes. We can’t have the official school Snitch because losing it means we would have to replace it, so we practice with small dimpled white balls."

"Golf balls?" Carolina asked. Lawrence nodded.

"What’s a golf ball?" Padma cut in, tugging on Carolina’s sleeve.

"They’re used in a Muggle sport. Involves hitting them across a grass field with metal clubs."

"Like Beaters use?"

"No, they’re long and thin and have the hitting part at the end."

"Wouldn’t that be hard, having to hit it while it’s moving around in the air like that?"
"Not quite." Carolina looked as if she was about to tell Padma more when she was cut off by a loud, "GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" Padma turned to see a Gryffindor Chaser circling the field and clapping.

"Go Angelina!" Parvati shrieked, jumping up and down. "First score of the game!"
Padma waited until the cheers (or in the case of the Slytherins, the hisses) died down then turned back to Carolina. "What else about golf?"

"Golf balls don’t float. Let me explain. First, you have to go to a special place where you can play golf called a 'golf course.' When you're there, you go to each of the levels of the game, or 'holes,' in order to hit the 'golf ball' as far as you can, trying to get it into a hole on the other side without landing in water or sand or among trees. Then you count up how many hits it took you, and the goal is to make the ball go into the 'hole' in fewer hits, or 'strokes,' than what is expected."

"That’s kind of boring." Padma turned back to the game.

"My papa plays it all the time. It is boring."

"Oh, look at Harry Potter dive!" Antigone tugged on Padma's sleeve and pointed at Harry, who had sunk into a dive. Padma could see how he’d gotten onto the team—he was flat against his broom, the wind whipping past him as he and the Slytherin Seeker dived for the flash of gold hovering in the air. Harry looked to be only inches from it when suddenly the Slytherin captain—a big bulky boy named Marcus Flint—slammed into Harry and nearly knocked him off his broom. All around Carolina she could hear the cries of outrage from the Gryffindors, and cheers from the Slytherins as Harry fought to regain balance.

"What in the name of Merlin was that disgusting bit of cheating?" Marilyn was on her feet, squealing and hissing. "Send him to the showers!"

"What?" Parvati, Padma, and Cho all said at the same time.

"The showers! I’ve been to American baseball games and when someone does something that mean they get sent to the showers." Marilyn grumbled and sat down.

"What does taking a shower have to do with cheating?" Padma asked.

Marilyn looked at Padma like she had sprouted horns. "It means that the player is out of the game."

"For taking a shower?"

Marilyn shook her head. "Never mind."

Carolina whispered in Padma’s ear. "It’s another Muggle sport."

"Oh, okay."

"Shh!" Lawrence was staring at the game through his binoculars, watching intently, when he gasped. "What’s the Potter kid doing?"

"What?" Padma asked.

Lawrence pulled his binoculars off and pointed at a jerking speck in the sky. "He's lost control of his broom or something. He's going higher and higher. It looks like he's going to fall off!"

*~*~*

Morag immediately got to his feet, watching as Harry’s broom started to shake back and forth like a bucking pony. Seconds later, it started to roll, and finally the broom gave a lurch and Harry tumbled off. He only managed to hang on with one hand, but it wasn’t a firm hold, and the wrong shake could loosen him. The crowd gasped in fear, while Morag's mouth fell open. Antigone ducked her head into Morag's shoulder. "Tell me when it’s over!" she sniffled.

"What’s going on?" Morag asked, shoving Lawrence to catch his attention.

"I don’t know—it looks like he’s being shaken off the broom. But that can’t be it—the Slytherins might be slimy gits but they can’t curse a Nimbus 2000, can they?"

"I wouldn't put it past them." Morag snorted. Even more reason to worry about this uncle of mine, if he’s from that house, he thought to himself. Antigone's fingers were digging tightly into his arm, and he tried to pry her fingers a bit looser. One of the Gryffindor Beaters—he had red hair, like Ron Weasley, and was probably his brother—flew towards the dangling Seeker as Harry hung on determinedly. He reached to pull Harry towards him, but the broom jerked away. The other Beater, who was the perfect twin of the first, flew toward Harry's other side and made the same reach for him, but the broom snatched Harry away and started to shake, as if it wanted to make him let go. Out of the corner of his eye Morag saw the same boy that had slammed into Harry—the announcer, Lee Jordan, had called him Flint—take the Quaffle and score five times while the Gryffindor Keeper, looking very worried, also flew towards Harry. Morag bit his lips under the tension of it all, and stared at the stands across from them—he didn’t want to see Harry fall.

Across the stands stood Professor Snape, staring at Harry and muttering under his breath. Morag’s eyes widened—surely Snape didn’t hate Harry so much that he would try to kill him? There had to be a reason. He looked down the row of professors and saw that Professor Quirrell was staring at Harry as well, only without blinking. He jerked his eyes to one side, and Harry’s broom jerked along with it. Snape muttered faster. By Merlin! Quirrell’s trying to kill him as well! Morag was about to shout across the stands when he saw a bushy head run past and knock Professor Quirrell into the row in front. He pitched forward, holding tightly on to his turban. Morag looked up. Harry's broom stopped shaking, and he saw Harry scramble back aboard it just before Morag spied that same bushy head of hair sneak back across the stands. Seconds later, Professor Snape screamed—the hem of his robes were on fire and the faculty around him were helping him stamp out the flames. Morag wondered just what had happened. First the cheating, then the broom—and I don’t think Snape was cursing it. No, I’m sure he wasn’t. He might be mean and House serving, but he’s not trying to kill Harry. But what was Quirrell doing? Bugger it all, it’s all very confusing…

Morag blinked, then nudged Antigone. "Let me go, Tig, he’s safe now." Antigone lifted her head just as Antigone lifted her head just as Harry dived to the ground. Suddenly, he clamped his hand to his mouth and jerked back, flushing green, then tumbled onto the field on all fours and started coughing.

"He’s going to be sick!" Padma squealed.

"I’d be sick too, being bounced around like a baby in a clothes dryer," Carolina replied.

"A baby in a what?"

"Never mind."

"He’s not sick!" Antigone squealed. "He caught the Snitch!" For Harry was now holding up something that flashed gold and screaming in delight. Shrieks of confusion, of joy and of outrage--from the Slytherins--filled the stands. Flint landed on the pitch howling, and stormed over to Madame Hooch.

"Is that legal?" Carolina asked.

Cho shrugged. "Nowhere in the official rules does it say the Seeker has to use his hands to catch the Snitch. Gryffindor win, one hundred seventy to sixty."

*~*~*

Antigone watched as Hermione, Ron and Hagrid, the Gamekeeper, scrambled down and swept Harry off the field with hushed whispers. She wondered what that was about, but kept it to herself. "Are Quidditch games normally this chaotic, Lawrence?" Antigone asked.
Lawrence was cleaning off his binoculars. "Not this bad, no, but still…I can’t believe he caught the Snitch in his mouth." He laughed and pointed. "Flint’s still down there whining about it. He’s just mad his cheating didn’t succeed. Oh well."

Antigone was going to ask more but Morag tugged on her sleeve. Antigone looked over and then remembered. That’s right, Morag was going to tell me more after the game tonight. She followed behind him as they filed out of the stands. If anyone asked, they decided to say they were returning their library books, or renewing them, possibly. As soon as they got back to the common room they would duck off to the library. Morag felt a tap on the shoulder as they shuffled out, and they both turned to see Padma. "Hey, Morag?" she asked.

"Yes?" Morag gave Padma a quizzical look. Carolina had already left with the other Ravenclaw First Years, and Padma's twin was asking her to come with her and the Gryffindor girls however.

"Did you ever give that note to its rightful owner?"

Morag’s eyes widened for a split second, then he shook his head. "I lost it on the way out of the Great Hall."

Antigone blinked. That’s not the truth! She opened her mouth to say that wasn’t the case at all, but Morag jabbed her in the side just enough to quiet her. It didn’t hurt, only startled her.

"Oh. Well, I hope it got to the right person." Padma looked like she was going to say more, but her twin was tugging on her to come on. "See you in the common room, then."

"Of course."

Antigone waited for Padma to walk off before she turned to Morag. "Morag," she whispered, "that was a lie."

"Yes it was." Morag kept striding forward in the direction of the large front doors, and Antigone had to sprint to catch up.

"But lying’s wrong. No matter the reason, you’re not supposed to lie about things."

Morag waited until they were alone in the hallway, then looked at Antigone sharply. It wasn’t a mean or snotty look, more like disbelief. "You’ve never lied about anything? Ever?"

"No." It's best not to speak at all, or to avoid the topic altogether and never slip up. Constant vigilance.

Morag took Antigone’s face in his hands and pulled it so that they were nose to nose. His grey eyes stared into hers, almost as if he were staring into her soul. "Antigone, I’m going to tell you something very important—something that you should take to heart."

His voice was low, but very firm, and Antigone could tell that he believed in what he would say. She tried to break his glance, but it was too strong. She had to make do with a whispered, "Yes?"

"I don't care what you've been told in your past, or what you may hear in your future. Listen to me and listen well. There are times where it not only is okay to lie, it’s best if you do. Got that? It is okay to lie."

"I…I guess."

"Good." He let go of Antigone’s face and continued. "Let’s get our books and head to the library."

As they walked off, Antigone tumbled Morag’s statement around in her head. A little bit of her father’s truths had been shattered—a lot had been questioned with her book, but Morag had been the first to actually challenge one outright. It’s okay…it’s okay to lie?

--Tasha

Birds Of A Feather: First Flight - Chapter 6

2006-09-10T03:02:42Z

No, I haven't forgotten my writing journal. I am just trying to get over this bout of emo. So here's some Harry Potter fic. Hopefully in the next week I can give you more Ranks and start posting last year's Nano.

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Author's Notes: Good God, this chapter took me forever. Stupid classes and job. Oh well.

I created all the Wizarding birthday traditions. I also go on the theory that the cutoff date is September 1, and that Hermione is one of the oldest and Harry is one of the youngest. Hence Carolina turns 12, not 11. Hey, it happened to me—I was born in October and so was one of the oldest in my class.

Thanks a lot to Haggridd and Madhuri! You're a lot of the reason this fic is a sucess, you know, and I'm grateful.

*~*~*
Chapter 6
Halloween, Secrets, Classroom Charms

Antigone and Morag sat in the Library researching the Goblin Rebellion of 1345. Professor Binns had assigned them a half roll of parchment, but Antigone had done almost a full roll. It wasn't that Goblin rebellions were all that fascinating—Antigone thought that this one in particular was the epitome of boring—but she was extremely eager to prove her magical ability ever since she had come back from her weekend at home. The weather had turned cool as Halloween approached, and so she had found it necessary to bring her cloak when leaving the warmth of the Library to head out to Herbology class or to flying lessons. It was about a week before Halloween. Lawrence had told her all about the grand feast held annually in celebration in the evening. Antigone couldn't wait—she'd never before been allowed to do anything on Halloween night.

"Are you finished yet?" Morag tapped Antigone on the arm. "I’m ready to go back to the common room. I think we’ve done more than enough—and I can only take so much of writing about goblins and trolls and the like."

Antigone looked over her parchment, written in tight cursive. She had gotten very good with a quill. "Okay, that does it." She rolled out her parchment. "Do you think it’s long enough?"
"More than enough. You have almost a full roll, and you write much smaller than I. Did you look up extra things?"

Antigone nodded. "There were some things in another book here that I looked up the other day."

"You really like researching beyond the given topic, don’t you?"

"Yes. I don’t know if Professor Binns gives extra credit, though."

"True, with him being a ghost and all. Well, anyways, let’s head back."

As Antigone and Morag were gathering their things, they saw three of the First Year Slytherins walk in. Antigone gulped silently; she hadn’t had a decent encounter with a Slytherin since the Sorting. Morag scowled, stuffing his rolls into his tote. "Let’s just go," he hissed, taking Antigone’s hand. "I don’t feel like confronting them."

Antigone nodded, grabbing her backpack. Just as they were walking past, there was a whispered, "Diffindo!", and Antigone suddenly felt her backpack become significantly lighter. She turned to see that the bottom of her backpack had ripped open. All her things were scattered across the floor—quills, textbooks, parchments and broken inkwells. She felt her eyes start to water as she scrambled to pick up her things.

The Slytherins burst into laughter. Moira Ryans, a girl with long blonde hair and cold blue eyes, leaned over and hissed, "Is the little mudblood’s bag in need of repair? Muggle-made things are never as good as honest wizarding things—children included."

Morag’s hands shot out, shoving Moira backwards and onto the floor. Moira shrieked and fell onto a big girl whose face strongly resembled a pug dog. "Millicent!" Moira complained loudly, "that—that brat shoved me!"

Millicent scowled, looking at Morag murderously. "Keep your dirty hands off her, MacDougal."

"Keep your spells to yourself and I won’t have a reason to."

"MacDougal's your surname, is it?" Alph Kamain smiled evilly, cutting in. "MacDougal…I know that family. I always wondered why you were Sorted into such a low-bred house as Ravenclaw-- oh, that's right! Muggle mother. My family remembers when that scandal happened. I should think the entire MacDougal clan would be embarrassed to find out that the offspring of their once-adored oldest son and heir is not only a mere Ravenclaw but also a protector of clumsy little Mudbloods…"

"Keep your comments about Antigone and me to yourself," Morag thundered. "No one with an ounce of self-respect would be a Slytherin, regardless of family."

"Quite the opposite, Morag," Alph snarled back. "No one with an ounce of self-respect for their family’s long-standing wizarding name would be in any other house. At least I’m not a dirty little half-blood like you."

Morag took that moment to sock Alph. Antigone gasped as Alph staggered under the blow, spitting blood. Morag didn’t have time to say or do another thing before Madame Pince came tearing around the corner a second later.

"I can’t believe it! Fighting! In my library! I won’t have it! Twenty points from Ravenclaw and Slytherin! And detentions for all five of you!"

Antigone blinked, shocked. Detention? But...but I didn’t do anything…

"They started it!" Moira snapped. "He shoved me!"

"You started it when you made Antigone’s bag rip open, you swotty little bit--"

"Another five from each for your smart attitudes, Miss Ryans and Master MacDougal," Madame Pince snapped, cutting Morag off. "All of you, report here immediately tomorrow night at nine." She walked off in a huff.

Alph closed his eyes halfway in anger, then kicked Antigone’s inkwell over her History of Magic essay just before she reached to pick it up. "Whoops," he said coldly, and Antigone looked in horror as her History of Magic essay, the one on which she had worked so hard, was splattered with dark blue ink, completely obliterating it. Antigone bit her lip to fight back her tears as she stared in shock at the ruined essay. I won't let them see me cry...They won't see me cry... The Slytherins walked off towards the back of the library as Antigone sat there, blinking back tears.

Morag leaned over and picked up the dripping essay. "Bastards."

Antigone sniffled. "I worked so hard on it." Now that the Slytherins were gone, Antigone let her tears fall down her cheeks silently. It was the first time in a very long while that she could remember crying in the presence of anyone but her mother. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of Morag, but she felt so helpless. "I’ve got a detention, and lost points for Ravenclaw, and I didn’t do anything to them to deserve that…"

Morag looked distressed at Antigone’s tears. "Don’t cry, Antigone. I’m sorry I got you in trouble." He pulled out a handkerchief and let her start to wipe away her tears. "There’s bound to be a way to repair it…I hope it’s not completely ruined...let’s go talk to Lawrence, he might know something." He picked up the last of her things and helped her to her feet.

Antigone sniffled as they walked towards Ravenclaw Corners. "I hope so. Um, Morag?"

"Yes?"

"What was it that Alph said about your family?"

"Nothing important."

"But it made you so angry."

"I’ll tell you later." Morag’s tone, though not harsh, clearly said Drop it. "First of all, let’s get this cleaned up."

*~*~*

"Purgeo." Lawrence waved his wand over Antigone’s parchment while Morag and Antigone watched. The big blue stain faded, showing Antigone’s essay in repaired condition, her neat text still on the page except where the ink had hit. There were blank spots here and there, and a central part of the essay was no longer there. "A very useful spell," he added as he handed the essay back to Antigone. "It makes unwanted blots on your writing go away as well as unwanted ink spills. I’m sorry that I can’t make just the unwanted ink go away, but this makes it so you don’t have to use new parchment."

Antigone smiled gratefully, holding up the repaired essay. "Thank you," she whispered softly. Morag nodded his thanks as well, glad to see that Lawrence had been able to help somewhat.
"No trouble at all. I’ll have to teach it to you, it’s not too hard and very useful. It just takes a lot of practice to make sure that the ink you want to stay stays and what you want to go goes." He gathered his things. "I would stay but I’ve got Quidditch practice. Take care." Lawrence rushed out, his broom over his shoulder.

Antigone carefully rolled up her parchment and headed to her dorm in search of a new bottle of ink and some thread to see if she could sew the ripped seam of her backpack together. Morag slumped into a chair and sighed loudly. He felt bad about what had happened in the Library tonight. His temper had caused Antigone to get a detention too. It wasn't that he minded getting detention, but Morag didn't intend to get Antigone wrapped up in it. He was surprised that he had gone so long without one, with all the things he had said to the Slytherins. This was the first time he had hit one, however. At least it was Madame Pince who found us and not Professor Snape. The Potions master would probably have let the Slytherins slide and punished Tig and me even more. To think, my father was from the same house as those slimy, rotten ...

Padma, who was finishing up her Herbology essay, went over to sit by him. "Morag, what’s upsetting you?" she asked as she set her parchment down.

"Oh, it’s nothing too important." I hope she doesn’t ask for clarification. "Where’s Carolina?"

"In the owlery, sending Nike off with a note to her father."

"No one notices an owl flying into a Muggle house?" Morag raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Oh, normally Muggle parents don’t get direct owls. They have to send their owls to the Magical Owl Post Office in London, where there are wizards and witches who accept the owls and direct the letters to their addresses. I believe that the Muggle parents also send their mail there so it can get to their children. But Carolina’s father lives on the moors, like she said, and no one notices her sending him owls."

"Where’d you learn all that?"

"Reading Hogwarts, a History. Mother and Father own a copy." Padma looked at Morag. "Now, spill. What’s really on your mind? You’ve looked upset since you and Antigone came in from the library with her ruined essay and ripped bag."

"Just that I slugged a Slytherin and got me and Antigone detention." And heard nasty things about my father and his family that make me doubt my own heritage, Morag wanted to add, but he kept that to himself.

Padma gasped. "What’d you slug one for? Did they tease Antigone about her bag breaking?"

"Antigone's bag didn't fall open by accident. One of the Slytherins jinxed it to bust. Then Alph—you know him, annoying little bugger with green eyes?"

"Yes, I know which one he is."

"He kicked a bottle of ink all over Antigone’s essay. On purpose."

Padma’s eyes thinned to slits in anger. "I’ve noticed that there’s a group of Slytherins always picking on Antigone—her and Carolina. It’s like they’re their targets—which is pretty unusual, because although the Slytherins are slimy little gits, they don’t target others like Alph does. They hate everyone equally. Even Draco Malfoy--Merlin's beard! You should hear what Parvati has to say about him and Harry Potter being at odds with each other!"

"What sort of things about Harry? The last I heard was that stunt that got him on the Quidditch team."

"Oh, idle girl gossip. Nothing more fascinating than his little achievements in class and rule breaking. But I digress. Even Draco, with his insufferable attitude, is an equal opportunity pain in the arse. Alph does seem to be targeting. He and that blonde girl-- Moira Ryans, yes?"

"Yeah, she was the one who started it. This time another girl was with them—a big ugly beast of a girl named Millicent."

"Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her. That girl’s as bright as a Nox charm in the Forbidden Forest on a new moon at midnight. Now Moira and Alph…I would watch out for them. They’re real jerks, and smart besides."

Morag nodded. "I need to study Astronomy for awhile. Antigone and I will be tied up tomorrow night as well. I hate to seem as if I’m brushing you off, but…"

"Surely, Morag, I'll let you go. I need to get started on the First-Year's Wall anyway, and then I should owl my mother." Morag propped his copy of The Ways of the Heavens on his lap and started to read—it was not a textbook, but he wanted to raise his grades in Astronomy a bit. As he read, the thoughts of Alph and his comments faded in the blur of constellations and star charts.

He was about halfway through the chapter when a thought popped into his head. Aunt Opaline was once a MacDougal. There’s so much she would know about the MacDougals. I should have asked her first. He leapt to his feet, not even noticing that his book had hit the floor, and took off for the owlery.

~*~*~

Carolina had to jump back as Morag came tearing out of Ravenclaw Corners. She didn’t even get a second to flag him down and ask where he was going before he was gone in a rush of black robes. My goodness! Where is he headed? I wonder if I should follow…no, I won’t. She shrugged and walked into Ravenclaw Corners.

Antigone was carefully editing what looked like her History of Magic essay, while Padma was helping the other First-Years with their personalized wall. At the moment it didn't look like much. After lengthy discussion, they all had finally agreed on a deep blue velvety background, and they had just started putting it up. Carolina had offered to contribute her photographs to the project, even though some of them were plain Muggle snapshots which didn't move like the collections of wizarding photos a lot of the other students had.

She sat down and had just pulled out her Herbology notes for a quick read-over and recopying, when she noticed that Antigone wasn't just editing her essay after all; she was reconstructing what appeared to be a big blank spot in the center of her parchment. "What happened to your essay, Antigone?" Carolina asked, blinking. "You were halfway down the roll before you and Morag went to the library."

"It has to be rewritten because of something that happened in the library."

"What exactly?"

"Alph Kamain purposely knocked my inkwell all over it after we got detentions."

"Detention! Antigone, what did you deserve a detention for?"

"Well, it started with me, because my backpack ripped open—Moira Ryans jinxed it to rip open, actually— then she and Morag started fighting, then Alph said something that upset Morag, so Morag slugged Alph just as Madame Pince came around the corner and took twenty points from Ravenclaw and Slytherin and gave all five of us detention." Carolina noted that Antigone was rambling, eyes fixed on the table, but she didn't say anything. "So I have to spend tomorrow night in the Library. Nine o'clock."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tig. Say! Cheer up, it's only a week till my birthday."

Antigone looked up from her essay. "A week? Tomorrow’s a week to Halloween."

Carolina nodded. "Yup, I was born on Halloween."

"Carolina, you didn’t tell any of us your birthday was coming!" Oliver spoke up from his position near the floor where he was helping to tack down the background. "And on Halloween too, what luck!"

Carolina blushed a bit. "I didn’t think it was that important, with the Halloween feast and all."

"Birthdays are always important!" Lisa grinned, letting go of the part she was holding against the wall and letting it fall on top of Terry’s head. "Plus, you get to have a feast on your birthday! You’ll be turning twelve, yes?"

"Yes. It’s my first birthday away from my father actually. I was owling him to see if he wanted to send me a birthday present through owl post."

"As long as it's not a Nimbus 2000." Padma teased. Padma had become the involuntary gossip reporter from Gryffindor because her twin Parvati was always meeting with her to talk about something. When she told them about the Nimbus 2000, the newest and fastest racing broom on the market, she had received looks of absolute envy from Joseph and Terry. Terry mentioned that even his brother David, who was a Beater on the main House team, didn't have a broom as classy as a Nimbus. Carolina grinned, remembering when the six screech owls had flown in carrying a long thin package, and scared half the Gryffindors.

"It won’t be a Nimbus anything, I don’t like flying too much."

"Either way, we’re going to have to plan you a great big party during the feast. I wonder if we can get a cake for you," Padma said, grinning.

Carolina blushed. "Well, if you insist…"

"Of course we do, Carolina! You’re one of us! We have to give you a proper wizarding birthday!" Lisa’s eyes lit up.

"Wizarding birthday?" Mandy said what Carolina was thinking. "What’s the difference?"

"You’ll see when we plan it. Trust me, you’ll like it. It’ll add a touch of surprise. And with Carolina being one of the oldest in our year, you’ll all know what to expect on your birthdays."

Carolina blinked, then grinned at the others. "Okay, if you say so."

*~*~*

Antigone and Morag silently headed towards the library for their detention. Antigone felt like she was going to be sick. She had heard of some of the detentions that had been given out so far. These detentions were not like those given out in her old Muggle school, where you sat around writing lines or the like. Here at Hogwarts, teachers put you to work. One student, a third year named Saraminta Fawcett, had accidentally transfigured a table leg into a rope, which caused a desk to come crashing down to the floor and scattered all the teacups that the students had been transfiguring into toads. It was a sight to see china toads hopping all around the room. For that transgression Professor McGonagall had made poor Saraminta sort papers in her office all night. Antigone hoped that detention at the Library would not be quite so bad. "I hope that we don’t have to do something horrible," she whispered.

Morag patted her hand as they walked along. "Come on, it's a library! What can they do, make us sort books for an hour or the like?"

The three Slytherins were already there, sulking under the glare of Madame Pince. Moira hissed "Mudblood," at Antigone as she walked past, but Morag didn’t react. He did tense up, Antigone noticed.

"Well! Now that you're all here, you can get to work." Madame Pince read from a list on parchment. "First, there are returned books to be sorted back on the proper shelves. Second, there is a broken bookcase that needs to be repaired." She pushed two carts of books towards the students. "You four split into pairs and start sorting. No magic. And if any of you even think about wandering into the Restricted Section, I’ll have you expelled and heading home on the Hogwarts Express before the sun rises." She glanced at Millicent. "Miss Bulstrode, you look more than big enough. You come with me to fix this case. And don’t think for a moment I won’t notice if you goof off, your four. Get to work."

Millicent glared daggers at Madame Pince as she followed. Morag and Antigone grabbed the nearest cart and quickly pushed it away. "By Merlin's wand, there's no way I'll work with one of those Slytherin brats," Morag hissed as he pushed the cart off. Antigone followed dutifully. "See?" he added as they rounded the corner. "All we have to do is sort books. Not bad at all."

"I guess," Antigone said. "but we’re going to have to wander up and down all the aisles."

"Not if we do it right. See, we’re in the Astronomy section now, right?"

"Yes?"

"And we both know the layout of the Library as perfectly as we do Ravenclaw Corners, like the backs of our hands, right?"

Antigone nodded.

"So, if we first sort the books in their proper order, we can just run up and down the rows once. We'll be done in no time." Morag pulled all the books off the cart and started to spread them on a table. "Put all the books of the same topic together, then we’ll sort them into alphabetical order."

Together Antigone and Morag sorted the books. Antigone saw a few books that looked fascinating, and decided to remember where they were so that she could get them tomorrow. It took about twenty minutes to sort to sort the books by topic, then each took a stack of books to sort alphabetically. Afterwards they placed them back on the cart and started to place them in their sections.

"You’re right Morag, this is fast," Antigone said.

"Told you." He looked at one book’s title and his eyes furrowed. "I’ll have to check this out tomorrow," he whispered under his breath. He stuffed it on the shelf, but not before Antigone saw the title Families of the Dark Era. She blinked, then shook her head. Whatever it was, it was Morag’s business until he told her.

She looked at the book she was holding, which belonged in the Muggle Studies section, reading out the title. "As The Gods Make It: Magic in Muggle Religions." She gasped softly in surprise, almost dropping the book, then held it to her.

"That sounds interesting," Morag said, looking at the book Antigone was holding.

Antigone nodded vaguely. She wondered if Madame Pince would let her check out this book tonight. The Library was closed, of course, and she was supposed to be concentrating on her detention task rather than browsing the library to pick up some light reading, but surely Madame Pince would make a little exception. She tucked the book at the bottom of the cart and continued to sort books.

Finally Morag and she were done, a full ten minutes before their detention was supposed to be up. They headed to Madame Pince’s desk, where Millicent was standing and waiting on her fellow Slytherins.

"Done early?" Madame Pince asked, looking over her glasses. Antigone and Morag nodded. "Good. You may head to you dorm now."

"Madame Pince?" Antigone asked, her voice faltering as Morag headed towards the door.

"Yes?" Madame Pince turned her head.

"May I check this book out?" Antigone set As the Gods Make It on the counter. "I know I shouldn’t have been looking at the books personally, but this one’s really important."

"No, Miss Moon, you may not check out this book right now. The Library is closed."

Antigone sighed and looked at her feet. "Yes, Madame Pince." She held out her hand, prepared to put the book back where it belonged.

"I will hold the book and you may come take it out in the morning, however, but only because you and Master MacDougall sorted the books so efficiently. Don't expect this favor every time you get a detention."

The last thing I plan on is getting another detention. "Thank you, Madame Pince." she said, rushing out of the Library. When she and Morag had made it to Ravenclaw Corners, she was too tired to bother with anything else. She curled up under the covers and buried her head into her pillow. Shadow was much bigger than he was when she had gotten him, and he was asleep at the foot of the bed. She closed her eyes, wondering what the book she had picked out was truly about. It sounded extremely fascinating—almost as if it could help her with her problem. As she fell asleep, she decided that, if at all possible, she was going to try and take that book home so her mother could see it.

*~*~*

"…and so you have to take this Hogsmeade weekend and get things for Carolina’s birthday party," Padma said. She was sitting at a table with Lawrence, who was listening to her. Since there was a Hogsmeade weekend--third years and up could take scheduled trips--Padma was asking Lawrence if he could pick up some things for Carolina’s birthday. "After all, this will be Carolina’s first Wizarding birthday, and she deserves to have the best birthday ever, right?"

Lawrence nodded. "No trouble. One of the best celebrations is a Wizarding birthday—that and Halloween. And with her having her birthday on Halloween, it’s twice the celebration. Sure. Sure. Saraminta and I can get everything you need."

"Thanks a lot, Lawrence." Padma placed the money gathered from the First Years. Everyone--except Carolina, of course-- had contributed money for Carolina's birthday. They had collected it when she wasn't around. Padma had decided to enlist Third-Year Lawrence to buy the things they needed at Hogsmeade. "This should be more than enough. You know what to get, don't you?"

"Yup. I’ll even put in an order at Honeydukes—they make wonderful birthday cakes. Do you know her favorite flavor?"

"Chocolate. Make it that thick rich gooey chocolate, the kind that oozes ‘cavities for the next year’. And lots of sweets."

"Good choice. Stuff from Zonko’s too?"

"Nothing too extreme."

"I know that. This is a birthday party, not April Fool's Day. I know, I'll see if there's a nice watch at Ticker's Timepieces for Carolina, and I'll get some butterbeer, of course. It shouldn't be too difficult to bring back into the school. A case and a half should be enough for all you first years, Cho, and myself. Saraminta, too—she’ll probably want to be involved."

"A case and a half? I'm not sure we have enough for that."

"I'll pay for the butterbeer myself. Consider that my contribution. I’ll even tell Saraminta no tricks." Lawrence scribbled everything on his sheet of parchment. "You know how she is—if you don’t tell her to behave herself, she won’t."

"Make sure you tell her." Padma reached into her pocket and pulled out ten Sickles and a small letter. "Can you buy this for my birthday gift to Carolina?"

Lawrence opened the note, then nodded as he closed it. "That shouldn’t be hard at all. Sure." He stuffed the money in his pocket.

"Please don't tell Carolina a thing, okay?"

"Certainly." Lawrence grinned. "Her first wizarding birthday ever—this should be a birthday Carolina will never forget."

*~*~*

Morag had been reading Families of the Dark Era continually since Friday-- between classes, mostly, though Professor Binns hadn't caught him reading it during History of Magic. In the past four days he hadn't come across anything worth mentioning. Today the Ravenclaws had Charms. Professor Flitwick announced that they were going to learn how to make things levitate. Morag made sure that he was paired with Carolina. Carolina had been having trouble in Charms—her brilliant performance in Transfiguration more than made up for it, but she was upset that she wasn’t doing much better.

Morag looked at the feather on the desk. "Remember," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "swish and flick. It’s a sharp snap of the wrist. And say your words properly, or you may end up with your ears turned into donkey’s ears, like Miss Harriet Farina."

"You do it," Morag said. "I tried the spell myself yesterday when I heard the Hufflepuffs had this class and I got it right." To demonstrate, he made the feather hover a few inches off the desk where Professor Flitwick couldn’t see and then set it back down.

Carolina bit her lip and looked at the feather on the desk. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she shouted, snapping her wrist. The feather lay there. She scowled and flicked again, and the feather sort of rolled over. "That’s not it," she scowled, looking at the feather.

"Hold on," Morag said, setting his wand down. He placed his hand on Carolina’s and then moved his hand in order to turn her wrist properly. "Make sure you make your pronunciation isn’t clipped. It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. Say each part nice and clear."

With his hand guiding hers, Carolina moved her wrist back and forth until they got it right. They were briefly interrupted when Terry accidentally said "Wingardium Beviosa" and found his feather beating him around the face like an upset bird. Professor Flitwick had to end the charm himself, and Terry looked pretty silly with a feather smacking him in the face. Finally Morag moved his hand. "Now try it yourself."

Carolina rolled up her sleeves and flicked her wrist over her feather. "Wingardium Leviosa!" To both their surprise, the feather floated off the desk and towards the ceiling. the ceiling. It was not the first feather to levitate, of course—that belonged to Antigone, who was getting better and better at Charms with each passing day—but Carolina's face lit up at her success.

"Thank you, Morag!" she said, hugging him tightly."

Morag grinned, just as Professor Flitwick dismissed them. Together the First years headed to Herbology. Morag didn’t get another chance to read anything in Herbology, as they were studying Devil’s snare and he didn’t want to try and read in a dimmed greenhouse (Devil’s snare didn’t like light and so Professor Sprout had dimmed the greenhouses with a Nox Spell). It was at lunch when, to his surprise, a school owl swooped in and left a letter near his plate. Normally letters came in the morning. He shrugged and opened it. Inside was a note from his Aunt Opaline, very short and in tight handwriting.

I don’t know what it is you’re trying to discover about your father, but I am the wrong person to ask. I don’t want to hear or speak another thing about the MacDougals, living, dead or otherwise. I realize that you are curious but I must be firm. Do not ask me any more about your father's family, I will not reply.

--Aunt Opaline

Morag blinked, then balled up the parchment in anger. Well, that was a dead end. He was going to have to do all his learning alone then, or at least without any aid from his aunt—that is, unless he could make her tell him. After lunch was over, Morag dutifully went to History of Magic and propped his book on his desk. Professor Binns never noticed that he was reading something else in class.

It was about ten minutes into the class when he finally saw something that was on the MacDougals. Silently, he read. It was only a paragraph, but it piqued his curiosity.

"The MacDougals were one of the first families to turn against You-Know-Who. Though it was known that they were involved at the start of the Dark Era, they pulled out early when it seemed problematic. The eldest son, Geoffrey MacDougal (deceased) was one of the first in the family to rebel and abandon the ways of the MacDougals. He was soon followed by his sister Opaline and his brother Alexander. They were the only three to go against the clan formally. Though the MacDougals were never involved in some of the worst parts of the Dark Era—thereby keeping themselves out of Azkaban—they were nonetheless supportive of You-Know-Who’s policies against Muggles. The MacDougals are still a prominent wizarding family in current times."

Morag looked over the paragraph again shocked by the allegations on his family, then quickly scribbled down the name before looking at it again. Alexander MacDougal. I wonder what he has to say about my father—he was his brother. He decided to worry about it later—after all, tomorrow was Halloween, and not a time to worry about the problems in his family—corruption or not.

*~*~*

Padma woke to the delicious aroma of baking pumpkin wafting in from the hallway. She couldn’t wait for class to be over and the banquet to come that night. She had planned everything—Lawrence had gotten everything together and had hidden half of it in his dorm; Terry and Oliver had been so generous as to hide the rest. Honeydukes had delivered the cake yesterday, and Antigone had learned a useful charm and was going to make the cake icing flash different colors. Nothing could go wrong today.

The first thing she did that morning was wake up the other girls, and they all got dressed while Carolina slept. Then Padma shook Carolina gently. Carolina rose out of bed sleepily. "Yes, Padma?"

"Climb out of bed and pull on your robes." Padma waited patiently, then pulled out her wand. So did Lisa—they were the only two girls who knew the spell as they had had it performed on them year after year. She had learned the incantation from her mother, who did it every time the twins had a birthday. Together the girls touched Carolina on the head and whispered "Anniversaire Lumos." There was a soft glow of light that dissipated into a fine mist.

"The first blessing of a Wizarding birthday," Padma smiled. "The Birthday Glow."

Carolina twirled around. "What does it do?"

"Everyone will know it’s your birthday. The glow is the giveaway. Even people who don't know you will see the glow and recognize that today is your birthday. Remember a few weeks ago, when Hermione Granger was walking around with a soft glow in her hair? Parvati had cast a Birthday Glow on her. The more people do it, the stronger it is, but it can only be cast by persons of the same gender."

Carolina grinned. "Will it be obvious?"

"Not glaringly—Birthday Glows tend to center near the face and hair, so you’ll look like you’re walking around with a halo."

"Cool!" said Mandy. Antigone nodded.

"There's another charm," said Padma as they left the dorms, "but that's for tonight."

All day Padma watched as people came up to Carolina and wished her a happy birthday. None of the Slytherins did, of course, but everyone else did. Professor McGonagall even smiled a bit and wished her a happy birthday. Snape didn’t say "happy birthday"—that was expected—but he did grumble about the fact that yet another student insisted on prancing about in a halo. By the end of the day Padma could see that Carolina was beaming— and it wasn't merely the Birthday Glow.

As they headed to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast, Parvati ran up to Padma. "Padma, Padma, did you hear what happened?"

"What?" Padma said, silently wondering why her sister was such a gossip.

"Hermione Granger is in the bathroom crying her eyes out. Apparently Ron Weasley and Harry Potter said something beastly about her—being too smart for her own good. Honestly, how’d she ever end up in Gryffindor? You would think she would have been a Ravenclaw with the rest of you."

Padma shrugged. "I don’t claim to know how the hat works."

"Anyways, I don’t even think she’s coming for the feast—Oh, is that the Birthday Glow?" she said, turning to Carolina. "You lucky girl! You get a school-wide feast on your birthday!" She grinned at Carolina just as they entered the Great Hall.

Thousands of live bats swooped over their heads, flickering the lights in the pumpkins scattered around the hall. As they sat at the table and the food appeared on their plates, Lawrence leaned over to Padma and said, "Should I go back in a few minutes and get Carolina’s cake?"

Padma was about to reply when Professor Quirrell tore into the Great hall in a panic, his turban askew. Silence hung over the hall as he reached Professor Dumbledore’s chair and gasped out, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know," before hitting the ground in a dead faint.

*~*~*

Shrieks of panic flooded the Great Hall. Carolina’s heart jumped into her throat. What was a troll doing in the school? On Halloween? And of all days, on my birthday! Suddenly the air was punctured by loud purple firecrackers from the end of Professor Dumbledore’s wand. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dorms immediately!"

In a rush Carolina joined a group of Ravenclaws, grabbing Padma’s hand and dragging her off. Behind, she could hear Morag mumbling and Antigone's wracking sobs. As one pack, they all headed towards Ravenclaw Corners fast as they could, their prefect leading the way.

When they got into Ravenclaw Corners, they scrambled for seats around a table, breathing very heavily. Most of the Ravenclaws were already inside. The food that was supposed to be their feast was now laid out along one of the long tables. "A troll?" Cho gasped, looking disheveled. "How could a troll get inside?"

"Trolls aren’t supposed to come in?" Padma said, trying to catch her breath.

"They’re not supposed to be anywhere around Hogwarts!"

Carolina hiccoughed. "On my birthday, too." Tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Padma said that the best part of my birthday was going to be in the Great Hall during the feast, where all the Ravenclaws could see…"

"I’m sorry," Padma looked disappointed. "There were all sorts of things Lawrence and we all planned. The best part is the serving of the—"

"Birthday cake?" Lawrence spoke up. Carolina spun around to see Lawrence, grinning as he held a large chocolate birthday cake dripping with thick dark icing that flashed in different colors of blue and bronze. The Ravenclaw eagle on top flapped it wings and squawked softly as Lawrence set the cake down, and twelve blue candles graced the top of the cake in a neat circle, where Happy 12th Birthday Carolina was outlined in icing. "I know we couldn’t do it in the Great Hall, like we wanted," he said, sitting down. "But this is just as good. Good thing I left it in my dorm."

Carolina started blushing as Padma led her to a large blue chair in the center of the room, and everyone in Ravenclaw Corners started singing Happy Birthday. A few of the older students made large blue steamers and confetti burst from their wands that sprinkled over their heads.

Saraminta passed out the butterbeer she and Lawrence had gotten for the group, as the first years scrambled to their dorms and got the presents they had bought her. Antigone even shyly uncovered two presents she had carefully kept hidden, a large box from Carolina's father, and a smaller one from Esmerelda. Carolina didn’t want to be greedy and tear them open, but they insisted. She ended up with lots of bags of candies and sweets (and many bags of Every Flavor Beans) from most of the First Years. Her father had sent her a box of peppermints and a warm lavender sweater with a note saying that he didn’t want his little girl catching a cold in those drafty castle walls. Lawrence got her a wizard’s watch with stars twirling over the silver face, hands that kept perfectly accurate time, and soft chimes that rang every quarter hour. Morag had given her a large stuffed teddy bear (He shyly admitted he didn’t know what to get a girl for a present.) Antigone had given her a diary, and Esmerelda had given her a small jewelry box that could only be opened by Carolina. But the best gift she decided was a small golden pendant from Padma with a little owl that hooted if you touched its feathers. Padma blushed when Carolina hugged her tightly.

As the Ravenclaws dispersed to gather plates, and Cho handed Carolina the knife to slice her cake—and as Lawrence cast the "Anniversaire Confectiona" charm to create extra cupcakes for all the Ravenclaws to gorge themselves—Carolina looked at Padma. "What’s the other part of a Wizarding birthday?"

Padma snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot! The Birthday Charm!"

"Is that like the Birthday Glow?"

"Not quite. Stand up." Padma pulled out her wand as Carolina rose to her feet. "Okay, guys, pull out your wands." All the first years, Cho, and Lawrence pulled out their wands. "We’ve been practicing since we found out your birthday was today so that we could all get it right." Together they touched their wands to Carolina, and a warm glow filled her. She listened as they spoke together.

"May we always be here for you, Carolina. May you always find friends in our circle. May your birthday wishes and dreams come true, and may this birthday be the first of many wonderful wizarding birthdays. May you grow wiser and braver, and brighter over the year, and may happiness be with you always. Anniversaria!" This time a bright glow filled Carolina and she felt like she was being wrapped in a blanket and filled with warm cocoa. The spell didn’t dissipate like the Birthday Glow had, but instead settled inside her like it was being absorbed.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"The Birthday Charm," Cho said. "It takes everyone who cares about you because that is the focus of the charm. All of your friends wish the best for you, and you get to feel just how much we care about you in that instant. It fills you with that warmth."

Carolina grinned, almost blushing.

--Tasha

Birds Of A Feather: First Flight - Chapter 5

2006-05-14T07:44:25Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Major Edit from original: I made Lavender Brown a black girl.

Author's Notes: Now this a good long chapter, with a bit of teaser. Very nice, and now my Ravenclaws learn about Quidditch ^.^. This would have been out sooner, but with school and stuff, I had to step back and do class writing first.

As we should know, this is not my playground, it's JKR's. I just like to play on the swings.
Haggridd and Madhuri, thank you for making sure this is worth reading by others and the mistakes aren't *too* obvious.

*~*~*

Chapter 5
Flying and Sport

Carolina had stayed up late to work on an essay for History of Magic that she had put off until the last minute, sitting in front of the first year dorms clad in her pajamas, comfy fuzzy slippers, and her robe, and sipping a cup of hot cocoa. It was very late, so everyone else was in bed. As she was writing the last two inches of parchment, the door to Ravenclaw Corners opened and Antigone walked in. She looks like she's been through hell.

Antigone's eyes were still red-rimmed, and she sniffled as she pulled off her cloak, which was a different one from the one she had left Hogwarts in. Her robes underneath were somewhat rumpled, as if she had slept in them. It was fairly clear that she looked like she was trying to forget something very bad. "Hello, Antigone," Carolina called out, setting down her essay.
Antigone started at the sound, spinning to face Carolina with widened eyes. "W-what are you doing awake?" she stammered. "It’s almost after one in the morning, I thought everyone would be asleep."

Carolina held up her roll. "Finishing up an essay." She motioned Antigone to sit by her. "Antigone, are you okay?"

Antigone looked like she desperately wanted to run. "O-of course I’m fine. What would make you think otherwise?"

"The fact that you took off Saturday morning without so much as a ‘something’s come up’ and didn’t return until now."

"I gave Professor Flitwick a note to give to you."

"I got the note, but it didn’t help my worries much. I still spent the weekend frantic." She took Antigone’s hand in her own. "What’s going on with your mother that would pull you off the grounds?"

Antigone looked at her feet. "I don’t want to talk about it."

"Antigone, nothing gets solved if you don’t talk about it."

"Everything's all right now. Esmerelda handled the situation. She shouldn't need to come get me anymore."

"I just want to make you feel better, and I can only help if I know what’s happening."

"I’ll be okay, Carolina. It’s nothing you should have to worry about. It’s my problem."

"Don’t you trust me enough to let me help?"

"Of course I do, Carolina."

"Then why won't you..." Carolina let the words die before she finished them. She really is shaken up about this.

Antigone looked up at Carolina miserably. "Please, Carolina," Antigone sounded like a whipped little puppy. "My weekend has been hard enough on me, and I barely got any sleep last night. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I really don’t want to talk about it right now. Just let me go to bed." She looked like she was going to cry.

Carolina sighed. She let go of Antigone’s hand and watched as she walked towards their dorm. Then she turned back and finished writing the last inch. It didn’t take too long. She gathered her things and walked into the dorm. Antigone had pulled off her robes and dropped them on the floor before climbing into bed. She silently pulled back Antigone’s bed curtains and saw her curled up on top of the sheets, fast asleep. She hadn’t even pulled the blanket over herself or changed out of her clothes. Carolina covered her up and placed a gentle hand on Antigone’s shoulder. I wish you were brave enough to tell me what’s wrong.

*~*~*
Padma grinned broadly Tuesday afternoon as she and the rest of the First Years all headed out to the Quidditch pitch. On Monday a notice had been tacked up announcing that they were starting flying lessons with the Hufflepuffs on Tuesday. The reactions ranged from absolute delight—Andrew Dickson had chirped that he’d been looking forward to flying since they’d gotten there—to absolute horror. Mandy Brocklehurst had admitted she was terrified of heights and the last thing she wanted was to be suspended in the air with nothing to keep her from falling other than a stick of wood and some twigs. There had also been the announcement that the current Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies, was holding tryouts for anyone second year and above on Saturday. Cho had gone out Monday evening and came back sweaty, announcing she’d been practicing her handling while flying.

Padma had wanted to get on a broom ever since she had left home. Her father still had his old broom from his days at Hogwarts and had shown her some of the basics of flying, though he had never let her go higher than his shoulders and kept a firm hand on the handle the whole time. Now she would get to fly alone. She looked up at the clear sky. I’ll be up there soon enough…

The Hufflepuffs arrived at about the same time as the Ravenclaws. The field was completely clear other than for the school brooms laid out in a row. Madame Hooch wasn’t too far behind. She had short grey hair and a whistle around her neck. Her sharp yellow eyes scanned the class as she called the roll. "Go on, everyone stand by a broom," she barked out when she was done, and everyone scrambled for a broom. Padma found herself by Antigone and Ernie Macmillan in Hufflepuff.

"Now, hold your right hand over your broom and say, ‘Up!’ clearly and confidently."

Antigone raised her hand. "Um, Madame Hooch?" she whispered, looking at her feet.

"Yes? Is this important?"

"Wouldn’t it be somewhat more effective to hold my left hand over the broom? I’m—I’m left handed, and I’m probably not the only one."

Madame Hooch nodded. Madame Hooch nodded. "Of course. All lefties proceed to the far left of the line so you don't bump into the others." Antigone, Andrew Dickson, and Justin Finch-Fletchley all shifted to the left end of the line, and now Padma found herself standing by Mandy. Once everyone had gotten back into place, Madame Hooch repeated, "Now, hold your right or left hand over the broom and say, ‘Up!’"

"UP!" went the chorus. Padma's, Justin's and Morag's brooms each flew into their owner's hands. They were the only ones that did. Most of the brooms just lay there on the field. Carolina’s had lifted up off the ground but fell back down, and Mandy’s had sat there defiantly. It took about twenty minutes before everyone got their brooms up in unison.

"Now, mount your brooms. You just swing yourself on, very neatly, so you don’t fall off the end." Madame Hooch demonstrated, then one by one each student did so, and no one fell off. "Grip the handle firmly but not too tight. Make sure your dominant hand is below the other one, the steering hand. This is very important: when you fly one-handed, you must keep your steering hand on the broom." She walked about correcting grips before returning to her own broom.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick up from the ground and rise a few feet. Descend by tilting your handle down. One—two—three!" She blew hard on her whistle and the group took off. They all flew in varied arcs, then landed one by one. Padma made sure she landed on her feet and only stumbled a bit, but a few people made crash landings. Antigone almost fell backwards, and Mandy (who had only gone up enough to let her feet leave the ground) slipped on a spot of damp grass, spilled off her broom and tumbled end over end. Over and over they took off, flying a bit higher each time, until everyone of the group could land on their feet.

Finally, Madame Hooch kicked up herself. "We’re going to fly around the field. Kick up." She kicked up neatly from the ground and went up pretty high. The rest of the class kicked off, but hovered at various heights. Mandy once again was not very far from the ground, and she wasn’t the only one—the only person who had gone as high as Madame Hooch was Morag, who looked pretty calm up there.

"Come on, into the air," Madame Hooch ordered. "You have to get as high as I am." Mandy whimpered and Antigone looked scared. Madame Hooch patiently waited until they all were at the same level, ignoring Mandy’s whimpering. "Keep the length of a broomstick between you, and follow my lead. Single file." She started off, and the students streamed behind her around the field.

I must be at least ten feet up, Padma thought. At times her broom veered to the left, but she made sure to hold it on course so she wouldn’t crash into anything or anyone. In front of her, she saw Mandy start to relax, not looking at the ground, but still whispering, "I want to get down now, I want to get down now…."

For almost thirty minutes the class made lazy circles around and around, and flew in various directions learning how to turn gently (and remain steady during the turn) until Madame Hooch announced, "Line up in the air now, just as you did on the ground." They all obeyed and Madame Hooch hovered before the class. "You've done verey well, class. Twenty points each to your houses. We're only at about fifteen feet. This is the highest you are allowed to go for today. Now, just practice flying. The rest of class is free flight. Don’t get too close to each other or go too fast, and make sure you don’t crash into the ground or go higher than this. And no Quidditch moves or fancy showing off or you’ll find yourself in detention if not the hospital wing. I will be up in the air watching you." She tilted her broom and went up about five more feet.

Slowly everyone separated. Padma dropped to the ground and practiced landing and taking off. Above her she saw Morag flying lazily around at a constant height, steering very well all the while. "He’s a natural," she whispered to herself as she pulled up to about ten feet.

"I know," Antigone said. She had pulled up beside Padma. Though her hands gripped a lot tighter than Madame Hooch had suggested, she seemed to hold on well.

"Are you still as scared?"

"Not as scared—I still think that this isn’t the safest method of travel, but it’s so..."

Antigone paused, looking for the right word.

"Breathtaking?" Padma prompted.

Antigone looked around, taking in the sight of the lake and Hogwarts. "Yes," she whispered. "Breathtaking."

*~*~*

Morag hated when flying class was over. He hadn't wanted to get off his broom. He loved being in the air, flying around on his own. It was almost natural to him-- even though this was the first time he'd ever flown in his life-- but it still felt like déjà vu. Perhaps his father had been a good flyer. Once class ended, he decided to speak to Madame Hooch to see if she knew anything about his father. Sending the rest of his friends along without him, he waited until everyone else had left. Madame Hooch was picking up the brooms and heading towards the shed to put them away when she saw him standing there. "Yes, Mr. MacDougal?" she asked. "Do you need something?"

"I just wanted to ask you if you knew anything about my father. I spoke to Professor Flitwick last week and he told me that chances were that most of the teachers knew him, and I felt almost kind of—well, natural flying up there. I was hoping you knew about his flying ability."

"Who was your father?" She looked interested.

"Geoffrey MacDougal. He died when I was a baby. My mother's a Muggle, and she didn't tell me anything about him."

"Hmm…" Madame Hooch’s brow furrowed in thought. "I remember him. He was an instinctive flyer. He was a reserve on his house Quidditch team until his sixth year, when he made permanent Chaser. Geoffrey wasn't all that good at it, from my professional point of view. He tended to play solitary and fly solo without passing to his teammates. Then again, most of the players on the Slytherin Quidditch team didn't have to be good at the sport. They got on because of whom they knew…"

Morag cut Madame Hooch off. "Slytherin? My father was in Slytherin?"

"Yes, I clearly recall that he was a Slytherin, which is why I was quite surprised when I saw that you were a Ravenclaw. You look quite a bit like him-- except for the hair. You've got your mother's hair; Geoff had thick red hair. You and Geoff have the same eyes, only he himself rarely looked a person directly in the eyes. The few times he did, his gaze could be quite piercing. Not much got by Geoff-- had he been lighter he would have made a great Seeker. His lack of teamwork wouldn't have hurt him at that position. That is the best I can recall, to be honest—I didn’t see much of him after he graduated. Not many people did."

"Thank you, Madame Hooch. That's all I wanted to know for the moment."

"If anything else comes to mind later, ask me. I only saw your father when refereeing the Quidditch matches between houses, but I do remember a lot from those matches."

Morag nodded his thanks and made his way up to the castle. He didn't go back to Ravenclaw Corners, however, but headed straight to the library. Madame Pince, the librarian, noticed his entrance, but seeing that he was a Ravenclaw, said nothing else. Ravenclaws were in and out of the library so frequently (studying as well as reading for enjoyment) that sometimes other houses jokingly called it the Ravenclaw’s second Common Room. Digging around in his tote bag, he pulled out his copy of Magic Drafts and Potions and pretended to study. No one came up to him—a Ravenclaw disturbed from studying was not a happy Ravenclaw. As he sat there, the thoughts turned over in his head.

Shocked didn't even begin to describe his feelings at learning that his father had been a Slytherin. Slytherins were known to be mean and nasty to anybody not a Slytherin. Once one had tripped him in the hall when the teachers weren't looking and almost made him drop his inkwell. Even the girl Slytherins looked unpleasant. Some were pretty enough, but they walked around with sneers that made them look like they were big trouble.

Morag had been highly upset with every single one of them since the incident in Herbology, and never passed one without a cold remark. He’d always had a temper when pushed—even when little—and everyone who knew him had noted that Morag could make almost anyone back off if they got him enraged or picked on someone he cared about. There wasn't a first year who didn't know about the incident in the hall before dinner a few days ago. A First Year Slytherin named Alph Kamain had made a rude gesture at Carolina. Morag had promptly snarled that if Alph didn’t want to find himself choking on his fingers after he stuffed them down his throat—without any help from a wand—he’d better apologize. He’d lost three points for the Ravenclaws when Professor Quirrell heard him, but he didn't care about points. Carolina had looked so embarrassed at the time, and Alph had been made to apologize, even though it was clear that he didn't mean it.

No one outside of Slytherin liked a Slytherin. Even the Hufflepuffs, who were kind to everyone, were known to make disparaging remarks about Snape and his students. According to Aunt Opaline's books, Voldemort himself, the greatest Dark Wizard of the times—so evil that people never spoke his name—had come from that House.
His father—he had been one of them?

*~*~*

Antigone stood and watched as Professor Snape inspected her bruise healing potion. She hoped she had stirred it properly and had added the right number of unicorn hairs-- she and Carolinas had used four strands, but she suspected that was too few. She ducked her head under his cold gaze and waited nervously as he took a dropper and dipped it into the watery pink solution. I hope it’s right…

Snape’s cold drawling voice cut through her thoughts. "Miss Moon, how much unicorn hair did you add to the solution?"

Antigone looked up, her eyes wide. "Sir?"

"I said, Miss Moon, how much unicorn hair did you add to this solution?"

"F-four hairs."

"And how many are you supposed to add?"

Antigone gulped. "Four?"

Professor Snape sneered. "No, Miss Moon. You do not add four hairs. You add two. Any more than two unicorn hairs in this solution will cause a very nasty effect." He held up his dropper. "You get an type of caustic solution, which, should it make contact on wood, causes a undesired reaction." He dropped some of the solution on the table and Antigone watched helplessly as the wood turned into powder, leaving a neat hole and sawdust on her feet.

Antigone whimpered. The rest of the class sat silent. Even Carolina, who sat beside Antigone, looked nervous. Why does he always pick on me? She meekly pointed at her notes. "Professor Snape, you told the whole class to add four hairs two minutes after the lacewings."

Snape didn’t even glance at her notes. "It is two hairs after four minutes."

"Then you must have made a mistake." The words were out of her mouth before she realized it.

Snape shot Antigone a cold glare. "I do not make mistakes, Miss Moon."

"Professor Snape, my notes say the same thing," Lisa Turpin spoke up meekly. Every Ravenclaw nodded. "And I know I took accurate notes. We can’t all have gotten it wrong, sir."

Snape picked up Carolina’s notes and glared at them. "Very well. A point for each student too careless to take proper notes will be deducted from his or her House—ten from Ravenclaw and ten from Hufflepuff." The bell then rang. The Ravenclaws quickly picked up their things, cleaned up and cleared out.

"Ten points because he misspoke!" Morag fumed as they left. "That’s unfair!" His voice didn't carry the force it normally held when he talked about a Slytherin who’d wronged him (and Morag had gotten the reputation of being a pain to every Slytherin that brushed his robes, excepting Professor Snape) but Antigone thought nothing of it.

"Snape is unfair, in case you haven’t noticed," Padma said resignedly. "Antigone, didn’t you read about the potency of a unicorn hair in potions? I did, but I just thought Snape knew better than the book, since the formula wasn't fully laid out in the text. I didn’t have time to go do a cross reference in another book."

"I was going to this weekend," Antigone replied. "But I forgot."

"Speaking of your weekend at home," Padma asked, "is your mother okay?"

Antigone’s throat locked up, and she didn’t answer Padma. The picture flashed in her head as she said that…her mother’s face in bandages, her left arm in a cast, and her soft voice barely able to be heard as tears squeezed out from the tightly swollen eyelids. Antigone’s face scrunched up in pain, and she swallowed tightly, looking at the floor. Esmerelda had rushed her to the Muggle hospital, where her mother had just been checked in, and they had spent the night there before her mother had been discharged.

"Antigone, your mother’s not okay else she wouldn’t have had you picked up," Morag cut in.

Antigone whimpered. "I don’t want to think about my mother’s condition."

"Condition? What kind of condition? Is she in a hospital?" Carolina blurted out her questions rapidly. "Did she hurt herself in a car accident or something?"

"It was only a little accident…" Antigone blurted out before she caught herself. Oh my god, I should have kept quiet…if they ever find out what kind of accident… She clamped her mouth shut and pretended to be very interested in a stain on the wall. Carolina’s eyes took on a look of concern. Padma looked shocked, and Morag looked as if he didn’t believe her completely. But they didn’t ask any further, and Antigone didn’t speak anymore.

When they made it back to Ravenclaw Corners, Antigone headed into the dorm by herself and sat on her bed, with Shadow asleep on her pillow. Carolina looked like she wanted to follow, but Padma stopped her with a touch on her shoulder. Antigone pulled her bed curtains tight, grabbed her pillow, and silently started to cry. She hated lying to her friends, keeping secrets and only telling half truths. They should know why she had to leave, they should know about her family and what she was going through simply because she was a witch. They all seemed concerned—honest concern, not the false concern she had dealt with before she had come to Hogwarts—but they wouldn't understand why she had been so secretive. They hadn't grown up in the kind of family she had. When you were a Moon, you were taught from a young age that you kept your family problems to yourself. You kept your face washed and your skirts pressed and your mouth shut like a good daughter. Only when nobody else was around but you and your mother could you cry, quietly.

Shadow brushed up against her, almost as if he was trying to calm her.

*~*~*~*

On Friday at lunch Parvati passed a note to her sister from the Gryffindor table, written in the pink ink she had bought, and with her trademark heart-dotted i's. Only Parvati dotted her i's with hearts. "Wanna chat? If so, look over here and nod, then meet me by the big stairwell in the Great Hall before dinner." Padma looked over and caught Parvati’s eye, then nodded and stuffed the note in her pocket, before continuing to eat.

"Who’s it from?" Antigone asked, munching on her chicken.

"My sister, Parvati. She wants to meet me just before dinner."

"Oh, could I go with you? I’d like to meet her."

"Sure, she didn’t say to come alone. I was just about to ask you if you wanted to go with me."

Antigone smiled. "Thanks."

When they had gotten out of afternoon classes, the two headed to the big marble stairwell with their book bags (or, in Antigone’s case, her backpack) still over their over their shoulders. Parvati was leaning against the railing and chatting about something that sounded very important with a black witch who had thick curly brown hair pulled back. Padma noted that she too had the Gryffindor patch on her clothes. Her face looked familiar, but she couldn't place the witch's name.

"Padma!" Parvati called out, waving her over. She pointed out the girl she was speaking to. "This is Lavender Brown, she’s in my house." Lavender smiled politely. "Who’s with you?"

"Antigone Moon," Antigone spoke up, dropping her backpack on the stairs.

Parvati wrinkled her nose, which Padma knew meant that she was thinking, and not a sign of disgust as it seemed at first glance. "You don't sound familiar."

"I’m Muggle born."

"Oh, that’s why. When Padma and I were little we only played with wizard borns and half Muggles. Not out of segregation or anything like that, it's just that our mother and father only knew a few Muggles."

"And they were all married to witches or wizards," Padma added. "So. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"At first I was just going to ask you how your classes were going, who’ve you made friends with, and how much you hate Snape’s class—things like that. But something absolutely stunning happened today—we had flying lessons yesterday you know."

"With the Slytherins." Lavender made a face.

"Anyway, Neville broke his wrist; he kicked off when he shouldn't have and fell off-- he's absolutely uncoordinated if you ask me. Madame Hooch had to take him to the hospital wing, and while she was gone that dreadful Malfoy prat found out Neville had dropped his Remembrall—it’s a little thing that turns red when you squeeze it if you’ve forgotten something you should do. Well, Draco took off on his broom because he was going to toss it in a tree and Harry followed him…"

Padma cut her sister off. "Harry Potter? You hadn't even flown yet, and he had never been on a broom! He was raised by Muggles!"

"I know," Lavender chirped, "but he took off like a rocket—like he’d been born to fly. It sure startled Draco, especially when Harry dived at him. First he tossed the Remembrall as high as he could so it would break. They were fifty feet high, and anything made of glass would have shattered even if only dropped from that height. Then Draco dived for the ground like a little chicken."

"And?" Antigone replied.

"Harry dived after the Remembrall!" Parvati squealed. "He streaked straight for the ground and caught it with his right hand only a foot off the ground. It was frightening, we thought he was going to break his neck, but he just tumbled back onto the ground like nothing had just happened."

"Then Professor McGonagall caught him. We all tried to explain what happened but she just took him off. We were sure he would be expelled, of course."

"Well, since I saw him at breakfast, I’m guessing he wasn’t," Padma replied. Parvati had always had an inclination to gossip, and though Padma noted what she heard if it was important, she very rarely repeated it if it wasn’t. "So why’d she’d take him off?"

"He’s been put on the house team," Lavender and Parvati said in unison. "McGonagall made him Seeker!"

"Seeker?" Antigone blinked. "Isn’t that a position in Quidditch or something?" She turned to Padma. "Cho’s been chirping about it all week since Ravenclaw tryouts are tomorrow."

"Yes, it’s the most prestigious position one can have on a team." Padma looked at Parvati. "But you can’t be serious. There hasn’t been a first year on house team since 1872."

"Well, Harry's the Gryffindor Seeker, and he didn't have to try out or anything! The last seeker just graduated, and I've heard that the reserve Seeker's not that good anyway. Tryouts for our house were held Wednesday and there wasn't a decent Seeker in the bunch. Oliver Wood practically had a fit of joy when McGonagall presented him with Harry." Parvati leaned back, grinning.

"He’s so lucky," Lavender said softly. "I’m so glad he got placed in our house."

Padma nodded. But he wasn’t sorted into my house.

*~*~*

Carolina wasn't in the mood to study early Saturday morning. Though she was a very studious witch, Saturday mornings were her time off. If she were home she would be up watching television, but of course there were no televisions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so she was content to read a book Padma had lent her. Cho and Lawrence were both trying out for the house team at noon, and had invited any first year who wanted to come see the tryouts. Padma wasn't going, opting instead to study and to help the other first years with wall design. Antigone, Morag and Carolina were all going, however, as was Joseph Rogers, the tall wizard who, save his coloring and his eyes, bore a passing resemblance to Harry Potter.

"I’m not Muggle born, myself," he said as they all headed towards the field. Cho and Lawrence had been out very early to practice in the morning hours, and so had stayed on the field. "Only half, through my mother—like Morag. I spent my childhood in the wizarding world after my parents divorced and my father got custody of me, my big brother—who’d just started at Hogwarts—and my little sisters. I was only three, I haven’t had a day in my life where it wasn’t obvious what our heritage was, though I do like Muggle things and know how they work.
"I'd try out for the team myself, but that rule forbidding first years to have their own brooms is totally unfair. We can fly well enough within first month of classes. Once Quidditch games start in November they don't even teach flying anymore. But no! No first years are allowed to bring their own brooms, so we have to stay off the team."

"What about Harry Potter?" Carolina asked. Padma had retold the story to all the Ravenclaw first years, determining that this wasn’t going to stay a secret anyways and thus wasn’t gossip. Lawrence had backed her up after hearing it from the Ravenclaw Team captain, Roger Davies.

"Oh, him." Joseph snorted a bit. "If you ask me, I think he’s getting special treatment since the Gryffindors haven’t had anything worth counting as a Seeker since my older brother Mark was here. The last time Gryffindor won the house Quidditch Cup was when he and Charlie Weasley played for their house team. Mark's just turned nineteen and helps raise griffins over near Athens. It's so unfair! I have Mark's old Cleansweep at home and can't bring it till next year."

The four of them sat in the stands on the field just as Roger Davies, the team Captain, blew a whistle to catch the players’ attention. He was a tall, handsome fourth year boy who kept his straight black hair clipped neat. With him was a strong looking sixth year that Joseph identified as one of the current Beaters and another fourth year boy who was the current Keeper. He announced the main positions that needed filling were two primary Chasers, a reserve Seeker, both a reserve and primary Beater and reserve Keeper. First to try out was the Chasers, then Beaters, and finally Seekers and Keepers. Roger blew his whistle again and all the potential Chasers soared up. Cho was at the head of the pack, and Roger went after them carrying a scarlet ball the size of a soccer ball.

"What’s that ball he’s got?" Antigone asked as the students flew around, passing the ball back and forth.

"It’s called the Quaffle," Joseph replied. "It’s only for scoring. Chasers throw the Quaffle back and forth among one another and try to get it through the hoops at the end." He pointed out where the current Keeper was flying back and forth in front of the hoops. "That one’s the Keeper, his job’s to keep the Quaffle out of the goals. Every Quaffle through is worth ten points."

"Like every goal in soccer is worth one," Carolina mused. "And the goal posts are like the net, and the Keeper’s a goalie."

Joseph looked confused for a moment. Then he nodded. "Oh, yes, the Muggle sport. I’ve played it once in a while, but most of the wizard kids I knew never understood the fun of it. I’ve been told I’m very good at soccer— Dean Thomas in Gryffindor brought his ball here with him and Mandy and I have been known to play a game with him. So do Lisa and Justin from Hufflepuff. Not quite enough for a three on three, however."

"I’m not an excellent player," Morag spoke up, "but I’m decent enough if you want to have someone else."

"That’d be good, Dean tried to talk his dormmates into it but none of them were too keen on it. The Weasley kid—you know, the one hanging around Harry Potter?—keeps poking his poster of West Ham and trying to make the players move."

It was a while before the potential Chasers dropped back to the ground. Cho looked sweaty and a bit nervous. She waved at Carolina, who waved back. So did Joseph, then pointed at the next group who had already gone up and was swinging around bats at two black balls. "The Beaters are the next players, and there’s two of them. They don’t handle the Quaffle, mind. Their job is to stop the Bludgers from hitting their team and aim them at the other team. See those black balls zooming around? Those are Bludgers—ouch! That’s not good!"

Carolina winced the same time Joseph did—a Bludger had just slammed into one student’s face. Blood spurted out his nose and ran down his robes—his nose was either broken or badly injured, but it looked to be the former. Antigone and Morag looked shocked as the boy carefully made his way to the ground with the help of another student and they headed towards the castle. "Do students often get hurt like that?" Carolina asked nervously.

"Well, Bludgers are made of solid iron, and if you don’t move fast enough they’ll whack you a good one. Poor guy can’t continue tryouts now, but Madame Pomfrey can fix him up well. I think the worse that’s ever happened is a broken jaw."

"So three Chasers who score with the Quaffle, A Keeper who guards the posts, and two Beaters that stop the two Bludgers from hitting their teammates." Antigone totaled them on her fingers. "That’s six players and three balls."

"Ah, the last position is the best position on the team, the Seeker. See, the Seeker’s job is to fly around the field and capture the Golden Snitch. Of course, the Snitch isn’t out right now during tryouts, it can get lost much too easy. Capturing the Snitch ends the game and gives your team a hundred and fifty points."

"All that from catching one ball?" Morag looked impressed. "That’s not unfair, is it?"

"No, because the Golden Snitch is only as big as a walnut and has little wings that lets it hover and dart all around the field like a hummingbird.. When there’s fourteen players all zooming around, plus a referee, and people shouting in the stands, a Seeker who’s not focused can easily lose sight of it. And if you see the other team’s Seeker dive, you’ve got to be right behind him or her and hope you can out race them—or hope it’s not a Wronski Feint so you don’t go crashing into the ground."

"Tryouts are almost over," Carolina noticed. "I guess the positions are going to be posted later today."

"Nope, you find out here on the pitch whether you’ve made it or not. See?" Joseph pointed towards the broomshed. "Roger's posting the scroll now." Just after he did, everyone rushed to see, and there were a great many groans as people sighed and walked away. Once in a while there was a whoop of happiness.

Carolina noticed Cho standing over with the Ravenclaw Captain, in deep conversation and separate from the other Ravenclaws. I wonder what it’s about, she thought to herself.
Lawrence came up into the stands, his broomstick over his shoulder. He was grinning happily. "I made Chaser," he announced proudly.

"Chaser! I thought you were trying out for reserve Keeper," Carolina replied.

"I was. But they made me Chaser instead. Roger and Samuel Sears—he’s the Current Keeper—both agreed I’d be better on the main team and that I would make a great Chaser."

"What about Cho?"

"Dunno. I didn’t see her with me on the list."

"Oh," Antigone sighed. "She didn’t make Chaser then."

A squeal of happiness made everyone turn towards where Cho and Roger was just in time to see her fling her arms around his neck and hug him tightly, shrieking loudly. "Thank you thank you thank you!" she yelled.

"I thought you said she didn’t make Chaser." Carolina looked at Lawrence, confused.

"She didn’t." Lawrence turned towards them. "Cho, what are you so happy about? You didn’t make Chaser."

"I made reserve Seeker!" Cho hollered back, grinning from ear to ear.

"That’s much better than Chaser," Antigone remarked.

"You’re not kidding," Lawrence said.

--Tasha

Birds Of A Feather: First Flight: Chapter 4

2005-10-19T19:17:20Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Author's Notes: I hate this chapter, it feels too short to me, I only got eight pages in Word. Meh, oh well, I'll write more the next chapter, let's call this one yummy filler.

Again, I reiterate that though most of the Ravenclaws are my creation, the world they live in isn't.

As per usual, credit and kudos to the best beta readers a ficcer could have, Haggridd and Madhuri.

*~*~*

Chapter 4:
Ravenclaw Corners

For Padma Patil, the first thing of note was the shape of the large Common Room that was Ravenclaw Corners. There were ten walls set in a circle, with two doors in each except for the wall through whose large double doors they had entered. Between each pair of doors were set tables with padded benches along either side. Above, blue candles in simple bronze sconces cast the light. A fire blazed in the center of the room on a stone platform surrounded by a low metal grate. Scattered around the room were padded chairs, footstools, settees and little occasional tables.

"For every pair of doors," the prefect explained, "the witches’ dormitories are on the left and the wizards’ dormitories are on the right. The First Year dorms are located opposite the main entrance. The Witches Bathroom is directly to the left of the main entrance coming in and the Wizards Bathroom to the right. So, proceeding clockwise from the top you have the First, Second, Third, and Fourth Years, the Wizard’s Bathroom, the main entrance, the Witch’s Bathroom, Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Years, back to the First Years. Have you all got that?" The prefect witch looked at her watch-- a magic watch, Padma noted, not like Carolina's-- and said, "It's late. Breakfast comes early tomorrow. You can stay up if you want, but I suggest you all get to bed."

Antigone yawned. "I’ll just go to bed, I’m too tired to talk." Lisa nodded as well.

"I’m going to stay up a bit," Padma said.

"I'll stay up with you." Carolina was wide awake; everything was new and exciting. "Let's go change into our pajamas first. We can look at the dorms and find which beds are ours." While the boys went right to their own dorms, the girls headed left. Just beyond the door sat five tall four-poster beds, each enveloped by deep blue silk curtains. Their trunks had been carried up and neatly placed at the foot of each. Padma opened hers to take out her nightgown, while Carolina fished out her pajamas. They changed and left the dormitory to sit in the Common Room, leaving the other three witches to sleep undisturbed. Padma had brought her trading cards to show Carolina, who was clearly fascinated as she viewed all of them. Padma pointed out some of her favorites: Agrippa, Morgana, Merlin-- who wasn't in his picture at the moment-- and Hippolyta.

"How long have you been collecting these?" Carolina read the back of the Cassandra card as she spoke.

"Since I was about seven years old. I have a lot of duplicates, because I like to trade. I’m only missing three or four. My sister used to collect them, but she gave me all hers when she tired of it." She sighed to herself. "I wonder what Parvati’s doing now—or if she can even sleep."

"You’ve shared a room your whole life?"

Padma nodded. "We've always been together, since we were little babies. Probably the longest time we were apart was the ten minutes I had to wait before she was born. We always played together, roomed together—we’ve never even slept in a room without each other."

"Oh. I’ve always been by myself, mind. Just me and Papa in this snug little house on the moors. Most of Papa’s friends thought he was mad to take on raising a little girl all by himself. But I turned out okay, I guess. On the moors my neighbors were so far away, and a lot of them didn’t have kids my age or who liked to do what I did. They thought I was a bit odd, you know, because I liked to read and learn, as well as play around in dirt and things. Most of them didn't like to do either."

Padma nodded. "When Parvati and I were younger, we loved to play together. We also used to do accidental magic—things like making the flowers change colors when we held them and stuff like that. Once Parvati got hold of Father’s wand when she shouldn’t have been playing with it and almost burned down the kitchen. We were only four, but she got punished severely. Did you do anything unusual when you were little?"

Carolina looked thoughtful. "There’s only one thing I remember that was odd to me—I was about five years old, and it was a warm summer evening. I was playing outside near the porch where Papa could see me. He was on the telephone, and he didn’t see what happened. Suddenly I heard this deep frightening growling. I turned and saw this giant dog snarling at me, like he was going to rip me apart. One minute I was standing there, trembling…the next, I was hanging half off our roof, screaming my head off while the dog barked and snapped at me. Papa scared him off finally, by throwing scalding hot dishwater at him. But to this day I don’t know how I got on the roof."

"Do you think it was a werewolf? They do exist you know."

Carolina looked surprised to find out that werewolves were real. "No, I remember it being somewhat darker out because the moon wasn’t full. It was a normal wild dog." Carolina yawned. "Let’s go to bed now, we can talk tomorrow."

Padma picked up her Wizard Card Album. They walked to the dorm and climbed into bed. Just as Padma's head touched her pillow, Carolina spoke. "Where do they keep the owls? I noticed that Nike isn't here. I suppose there's a place for her."

"Probably in the Owlery-- we'll go look for it tomorrow. I need to send a Hogwarts owl to Mother-- if she hasn't sent me one first on Amazon. I didn't get my own owl. We just have one for the family, but we don't need more than one. Amazon is still young and hearty for her age."

"Okay." Padma heard Carolina yawn again. "Goodnight, Padma."

" ‘Night, Carolina."

*~*~*

"What’s our class today?" Oliver asked Morag as he pulled on his robes. It was the first day of classes, and everyone in Morag’s dorm was getting ready. Lawrence Hillbourgh had volunteered to show all the first years the way back to the Main Hall for breakfast. He’d pounded on the door at seven o’ clock, startling Morag into tumbling out of bed and tangling himself in the bed curtains.

"Lawrence said the schedule is posted by the main doors." Oliver ducked out as Morag tied his sneakers and memorized the timetable before walking back in the dorm. "Charms and Herbology in the morning, and History of Magic this afternoon. We can probably return to the dorm after lunch and get our things for History of Magic." Morag reached for his tote bag, his copies of The Standard Book of Spells and One Hundred Magical Herbs and Fungi, and wand (eleven inches, beech and dragon heartstring) as well as several rolls of parchment and quills. He’d been practicing at home over the summer and could now write fairly neatly with one. He stepped out with the rest of the boys to see Lawrence and the witches already standing there. Carolina looked like she wanted to jump up and down.

"Hey, Antigone, where’s Shadow?" Morag asked her as Lawrence led them out the doors.

"I left him in the dorms, he’s still asleep." Antigone shifted her backpack to her other hand—she was carrying it by the straps instead of over her shoulder and was the only one of the group carrying one.

Breakfast was interrupted many times by lots of owls flying to the Great Hall to make deliveries. Afterwards, all the First Years rose and went to go find the Charms classroom. It took quite a while, because some doors weren’t true doors and things kept moving around. One staircase moved to point the other way just as they all had made it on, which scared little Oliver Hutchins quite a bit. They finally managed to get to the Charms classroom and take their seats. A tiny man with a large shock of white hair stood on a stack of books behind his desk.

"My name is Professor Flitwick. As you may already know, I’m the Head of Ravenclaw House as well as the Charms teacher." He quickly called the roll, then held out his wand. "You'll be learning various charms in this class which are the bases for many more complicated spells." He pointed his wand at Lisa's inkwell. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The inkwell shot straight up and hovered about a foot off the desk. Morag looked impressed. With another spell, Professor Flitwick set the inkwell down. "Of course, we won't be doing that immediately. First we will learn the basic mechanics of holding one's wand to move things while they are on stable surfaces. Does anyone know the spell for moving stationary objects?"

Morag raised his hand. He’d read over one of his books this morning. Flitwick motioned at him. "Yes, Mr. MacDougal?"

"It's 'Movova!' sir." He pronounced it as best he could.

"Excellent! Five points for Ravenclaw. First I’ll show you, then you may practice. Don’t expect to get it right the first time, of course. " Professor Flitwick pointed at one of the books on his table. "Movova!" The book slid neatly across the desk as he moved his wand back and forth. "Now, you won’t be allowed to move books quite yet. For now I want you practice with these buttons. Just practice till you can move them back and forth with your wand. Just a quick flick for now. Once you can move them, then we’ll try fluid moving."

Morag looked at the button in front of him. He bit his bottom lip and then held out his wand. "Movova!" he spoke clearly, flicking his wrist sharply. The button sat there. Scowling, he tried again. The entire class seemed to be annoyed with their motionless buttons. Antigone looked as if she was going to cry as she sat there moving her wand, but not her button. Morag patted her hand. "You’re trying a bit too hard. Don’t stutter."

Antigone nodded. She stared at her button, then spoke clearly, flicking the wand with her right hand. "Movova!" Morag noticed she seemed to be having trouble holding her wand.

"Antigone, are you left handed?" he asked.

"Ambidextrous actually."

"Which hand did you use when you first got your wand? Which hand was holding it?"

"The left."

"Then use that one. Let’s try at the same time."

Antigone switched hands, holding the wand in her left. "Movova!" they both said together with a sharp flick of their wrists. The buttons both moved jerkily and clicked into each other audibly.

"Ah, has someone done it?" Professor Flitwick made his way to Antigone from Oliver’s seat.

"We both did, Professor," Morag said.

"Splendid! Do it again, if you don't mind, first individually, then together."

Morag went first, flicking his wand and moving his button neatly. Antigone did the same, clearly surprised. Finally, working together, they made the buttons move apart.

"Good! Very good!" Flitwick clapped. "Ten points each for Ravenclaw. Class dismissed." He looked at Morag cheerily as they packed up to go. "You know, your father was good with charms too. I remember having him in my class. Knew him well."

"You know about my father? I don’t even remember him."

Flitwick looked a bit compassionate. "You mother didn’t tell you about him? She’s Muggle, yes?"

"Yes she is, sir. She told me nothing, other than the fact he died right before I was born. She didn’t like to talk about him much."

"I'll tell you what. I advise you to start asking around about him. Almost all the teachers who were here at the time remember your father well. See if you don't learn something new about your dad every week. He was very well known in the wizarding world-- trust me, you may be surprised at what you find out."

Morag nodded, feeling odd at the prospect of learning what Professor Flitwick might know. He picked up his tote and headed out to follow the others.

*~*~*

"Argh." Carolina groaned as she and rest of the Ravenclaws left History of Magic that Wednesday. Most of them looked all too grateful to leave—this had been their second time to the class and no one liked it. "Professor Binns’s class had to be the most boring thing I’ve ever sat through. Herbology was better than that—and I don’t even like plants!"

"Well, we can’t expect much from a ghost for a professor." Padma pointed out.

"At least that was the last class of the day. No more classes today, we can go study in our common room." Carolina looked at her parchment scroll, which was spotted with blotches. "I should have practiced writing with quills—my notes are a mess. Who would have thought you had to learn all about history and things?"

"I guess it’s that ‘those who do not know the past are condemned to repeat it,’ idea."

"Goblin rebellions and troll outbreaks are not the stuff that dreams are made of. And he never ever gives us points. I’m glad I’m doing so very well in Transfiguration—I almost have my match into a needle, Professor McGonagall is very proud of me. She gave Ravenclaw ten points for it."

"You’re the only one making such good progress." Padma, being near the head of the group, reached and tickled the door in front of them to make it open. It shivered as if giggling and then swung open to reveal a staircase. "The most I could do was get my match a little bit shiny."

"You seem to make up for Transfiguration by doing good in Astronomy. Professor Sinistra is always giving you points. "One might think you were her favorite. Sometimes I wonder if Binns even knows that we’re there."

"At least Professor Binns doesn’t notice when we sleep in class," Oliver spoke up.

"Like you were?" Carolina teased.

Oliver appeared as if he was going to say something else, but was cut off when a wastepaper basket fell on his head and splattered him with trash. The group's attention was drawn to the sight of a little man wearing a Fool's cap and bells with an orange bowtie cackling hysterically while Oliver looked disgusted. "Oooo…I got an Ickle Firstie!" he squealed.

Carolina scowled as the other first years huddled together. Carolina knew this was probably some type of ghost, but she hadn’t seen him before. "Come on guys, let’s keep going towards the rooms. We can't go down to dinner until we get Oliver all cleaned up." She marched forward towards the common room, but was blocked as the poltergeist darted in front of her.

"Nothing doing, Firstie," he snapped, throwing handfuls of trash at all of them.

Carolina brought her arms in front of her face to block the trash. She would have thrown it back, but she assumed it would have probably gone right through him. Behind her Mandy was shrieking and trying to duck the assault.

"PEEVES!" The Grey Lady’s voice rang out as she came soaring down the hall and stopped in front of the group. "Leave them alone!"

"I was just having fun with the Firsties, your Ladyship." Peeves continued to fling more things.

"I’m warning you, Peeves…"

Peeves blew a raspberry.

"I will call the Bloody Baron, Peeves. Would you rather have him deal with you?"

Peeves snarled and zoomed off through the left wall. The Grey Lady turned to the others and let out a sigh. "Peeves is our resident poltergeist. The only person than can control him is the Baron, annoyingly enough." She clucked her tongue at Oliver. "Poor dear, you’ll have to clean that up before you go to dinner tonight. I’ll see you later, dears." She floated off towards the Great Hall.

Oliver sighed. "Now I have to have this robe washed and take a long bath before dinner."

Carolina helped pick little bits of trash out of Oliver’s hair as they walked on. "Well, we don't mind waiting for you, do we, guys?" The others nodded.

*~*~*

Antigone loved being at Hogwarts. There was nothing more exciting to her than watching the owls zoom in over breakfast and deliver mail to the students. She hadn’t gotten any yet, but Carolina’s father had quickly understood the mechanics of owl post over the summer with Nike and had recently sent Carolina a package of candies from her favorite Muggle candy store. She always shared with all the first years, and the wizard-borns were fascinated by lemon drops, and jelly beans that never held unpleasant flavors.

She’d been doing very well so far in classes. Charms was Antigone's favorite class, and she excelled wonderfully—she and Morag almost always were first to get a new spell to work, and Professor Flitwick had begun to have them demonstrate to the class, from time to time. On Wednesday nights Professor Sinistra had them monitor the stars through telescopes along with the Gryffindors. She had once shared a telescope with Harry Potter and discovered that he wasn’t all that high and mighty about himself—just a young boy who didn’t know a lot about magic himself, and, at times, he struggled just as much as she did. She’d held a small conversation with him, but not much of one. (She still didn't understand what all the fuss was about.) History of Magic bored her, as Professor Binns lectured monotonously, but she still managed to learn what she needed to know. Defense Against the Dark Arts was almost pointless though—Professor Quirrell, a pale young wizard with who wore a dark purple turban, seemed to avoid the topic altogether whenever a student spoke about it. Afterwards Antigone’s robes reeked of garlic due to the thick ropes of it hanging all over the room and it took a half hour to wash the smell out of her hair.

Herbology with the Slytherins was a pain, but not because of the teacher. Professor Sprout was very nice and patient, a short little witch with flyaway grey hair and dirty fingernails. She almost always gave them hands-on work with the different plants. The problem she had was with the Slytherins themselves, who always made smart remarks and insulted anyone who wasn’t one of them. The worst incident in class had been when she and Terry Boot were paired with two Slytherins to help replant one of the baby prickleback bushes. Blaise Zabini had purposely let one of the fragile seedlings go flying at her face, and she had pulled her hands up just in time to avoid getting her eyes gouged out. It had sliced her hand open though, and she bled all over the potting soil while the Slytherins snickered meanly. Blaise had received two detentions for it, which made Antigone feel a little better, and Madame Pomfrey (the school nurse) had healed her hand up neatly, which made her feel a whole lot better.

She couldn’t get the hang of Transfiguration, though. Professor McGonagall had given them a stern lecture on how serious the subject was. She had impressed them by turning her desk into a pig and then back, but there was no chance that any of them would be allowed near something so complicated yet. There had been notes upon notes, and then they were given the task of turning matches into needles. The only one who had made any change the first class was Carolina, who had at least made the match turn a bit silver. By Friday she could do it perfectly, and Professor McGonagall had favored her with a small smile and a "Well done, Miss Kipley, ten points for Ravenclaw."

The worst class was probably Potions. Lawrence Hillbourgh, the Third Year, had told Antigone that Professor Snape, Housemaster for Slytherin, favored his house above all others, and Lawrence had been dead on. Snape would insult both the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs, and would find any excuse to dock points. So far she had been very good and rarely made mistakes. Once the rest of the class figured this out, they made sure they had a potion down and did everything perfectly and silently, speaking to Professor Snape only when he spoke first. The Hufflepuffs hadn’t quite picked up on the strategy though, and so they almost always got on Snape’s bad side. Snape loathed that he almost never found an excuse to dock the first year Ravenclaws, and made up for it by docking Cho Chang's second year Potions class every time they stepped out of line. Cho had complained about it at night when they were all in the common room and found it very unfair.

It had been a week since the start of term when Antigone got a very nasty shock.

At Saturday morning breakfast, a school owl swooped down and dropped a letter right on top of her cream of wheat. She noticed it was from Esmerelda before she ripped it open and read the small note scrawled on Ministry parchment:

"Antigone, I need to see you immediately. You need to come home right away, it is highly important. Something major involving your mother has come up. I have informed the Headmaster, the Deputy Headmistress and your Housemaster, Professor Flitwick, and they all understand the circumstances. Your Housemaster will escort you to Hogsmeade Station, where I will pick you up. It will just be overnight. You will be back in time for classes Monday. No reply is required; report to Professor Flitwick once you have received this owl."

Esmerelda had signed at the bottom in bright violet ink.

Antigone’s eyes widened. Ignoring the rest of her breakfast, she took off to Ravenclaw Corners amid the surprised looks of her fellow first years and a concerned look from Lawrence. She rummaged through her trunk, stuffing two outfits and various necessities in her backpack along with her wand, homework and A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration before she made the trek up to Flitwick’s seventh floor office. She didn't even have to rap on the door. Professor Flitwick had left it open and was waiting in a neat blue traveling cloak. "Are you ready to go, Miss Moon?" he asked with concern as she entered the office, the note gripped tightly in her hand.

"Has Esme-- I mean Miss Toners-- told you anything about why I have to go home?" Please don’t let him have hurt her…

He shook his head. ..."I am sorry to say that she has not." He pulled out a pocket watch (a magical one, Antigone noticed absently) and nodded. "We should leave now so we’ll get there in time."

Antigone nodded, her eyes welling up. Silently she followed Professor Flitwick down the stairs and corridors towards the entrance. Antigone was in a daze of fear and apprehension; she merely trailed behind, scribbling out a note half-heartedly until they had made it to Hogsmeade and to the rail station. Esmerelda was standing there, with thick purple robes on over her Muggle clothing. The letters "M.B.W.W.L.O." were stitched on neatly on the left side, so Antigone guessed they were Ministry Uniform robes. She looked exhausted, as if she’d spent the night awake. ..."Thank you, professor," she said softly, "I'll take over from here."

Just as Professor Flitwick was turning to leave, Antigone called him. "Yes?" he replied in his squeaky voice.

Antigone pressed a small note into his hand. "Can you give this to Carolina Kipley? I don’t want her to worry about me while I’m gone." He nodded sagely and then left in the same carriage that had brought them.

Esmerelda took Antigone’s hand. "I hate to pull you out of classes, but your mother—she asked for you, she won’t talk to me much, and your aunt’s hysterical herself—what with all that happened, I wouldn’t be surprised."

"What happened?" Antigone looked at Esmerelda terrified. "Did…did Daddy go to my aunt’s house?"

Esmerelda nodded, then hugged Antigone as she burst into tears.

*~*~*

Carolina was very worried when Antigone hadn't returned after her sudden exit from breakfast. She had just read her letter and taken off, without even so much as a whisper. Even stranger was that Antigone hadn't been seen. She quickly finished her toast and then ran to Ravenclaw Corners. She must have just missed Antigone, because her trunk was open and her backpack missing. Carolina noted that one of Antigone’s textbooks and her homework rolls were also missing as she put Antigone’s things away—wherever she had gone, she had left in a rush. Shadow meowed as she walked in, but he didn’t follow her out.

Morag, Padma, Cho and Lawrence caught up with Carolina as she came out of the dormitory and into the common room. "Where’s Antigone?" Morag asked worriedly.

"I don’t know."

"Where do you think she went?" Cho asked, looking concerned. Carolina realized that Cho too had become friends with Antigone. She looked as frightened as the first years.

Lawrence muttered, deep in thought. "I can remember no time they ever removed a student from the Hogwarts grounds before. I can't think of any reason—Antigone has done nothing to warrant expulsion—she's practically a model student."

"The worst she did was to lose five points in Potions, but that was an accident, and Snape is just vindictive that way." Carolina was past scared and approaching terrified. Where did she go? What happened that would have called her off the grounds? Unless...could it be a problem in her family? I don’t think everything’s right with her family, but it would be rude beyond belief to suspect what’s not there…

"Miss Kipley?" Carolina turned to see Professor Flitwick walk in. He barely came up to her shoulder, he was so little.

"Yes, Professor?"

He held out a note. "Miss Moon wanted me to give this to you. She had to go home for a family emergency."

Carolina whimpered like she’d been kicked. "What kind of family emergency?"

"I wasn't told, Miss Kipley, but an official in Ministry Uniform robes was at Hogsmeade Station to take charge of her."

"Was she a witch with long black hair and distinctively Muggle clothing?" Flitwick nodded. Carolina waited until he had departed before speaking again. "I know her, that’s Esmerelda—she helped us in Diagon Alley, she works for the Muggle-born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office. Why would she be here for Antigone?"

"Read the note," Padma said, poking at it.

Carolina unrolled it and started reading the rushed handwriting. "Sorry for the rush in leaving, but Esmerelda’s letter told me I had to leave this morning and go straight home. Something about Mummy came up. I don’t want to tell you yet, but I will once I can. Don’t worry, I’ll be home on Sunday night. Watch out for Shadow, I’ll owl you if I can. Antigone."

"Well, we know she’s okay," Morag said. "But what’s wrong with her mother?"

"I don’t know," Carolina said. She sat down on one of the footstools, still holding the note. But I’m definitely worried.

*~*~*

Padma was right shocked when Carolina told them that Antigone had left the school grounds after breakfast and hadn't been seen since that sudden departure. As the others came in and saw she was missing, Carolina explained that Antigone would be gone for the weekend on family business. This had calmed the others down, but not Padma and Morag. The other First Years gathered at the table in front of their dorm and debated how best to personalize their assigned personal wall, but the three sought out stools and arranged them around an occasional table as they pretended to do their Herbology homework.

Morag was the first to speak. "Let’s get right to it," he said. "Are you two worried about Antigone as well, or am I the only one?"

"Of course I’m worried," Carolina said. "I’ve been worried since I first met her—she’s withdrawn, and very timid."

"I noticed that too," Padma said, chewing her bottom lip. She thought that Antigone was more than simply timid, though—in her opinion, Antigone was downright terrified of adults. But she kept that to herself. "She almost never argues or talks back—not even when Professor Snape grilled her for accidentally tipping the cauldron over in class and splattering his robes with unfinished boil remover." Padma giggled a bit. "Although it was hilarious when his robes erupted into little blue spots wherever it touched." They all laughed at the memory, then quickly sobered. "But y'know... she just stood there with tears running down her face, stammering an apology as she wiped the table, like being yelled at was normal." She scribbled something on her homework as a group of fifth years walked by, then spoke again. "At least she didn't mess up like Neville Longbottom over in Gryffindor. He completely ruined a cauldron and broke out all over in boils.

"After a while even Snape didn't have the heart to keep complaining. Antigone did nothing but accept the abuse he doled out at her. So she lost only five points for the whole episode—Cho lost five times more when she dropped a vial on the floor and set the tables on fire in her Potions Class."

Morag nodded. "It’s almost creepy, the way she takes things—when things go wrong, she immediately takes the blame." He chewed on a peppermint thoughtfully, sharing them with Padma. Padma had taken a liking to these—they didn’t turn your tongue colors or let you spit purple, but as Muggle sweets went, they were delicious.

Carolina made sure that no one was eavesdropping, then whispered. "You two didn't see what I saw. When I first met her, Antigone's mother was wearing sunglasses, and I could see a bruise under them. I think she had a black eye, or at least a healing one."

Padma blinked. "She didn’t get that healed immediately? It would only make sense to do that."

Morag shook his head. "There’s nothing like mediwizards with us Muggles. We get hurt and we just have to tough it out."

Padma could have kicked herself. Antigone learned things so quickly that Padma sometimes forgot that her friend was in fact Muggle-born.

"But how would her mother get a black eye? Unless—" Padma looked at Morag and Carolina shocked. "You—you don’t mean? Do Muggle couples do that to one another?"

Morag's expression was grim. "Someone socked her, for sure. We won't press Antigone at all about what happened, it's not respectful. We'll let her tell her friends in her own time. I do think that there is something going on in her family that Antigone doesn't want to tell us about right at this moment."

--Tasha

Birds of a Feather: First Flight - Chapter 3

2005-10-02T10:00:20Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Note (9/9/2006): I checked the Lexicon: A correction to the text as listed on the HP Lexicon puts Penelope as a sixth year in book two instead of a fifth. However, I have an unedited copy. And since my story needs her as a fourth when the Birds arrive, she stays a fourth. Take it up with the mofos that edited the text after I got my copy of CS.

Author's Notes: Yes, once again I had to look at SS to get the chapter rolling. Trust me, after this there won't be any more paralleling, just mentions. Okay?
I subscribe to the small school line of thought when it comes to the number of Hogwarts students--only about 300 students. Yes, I know that JKR said there were about a thousand, but I'm not all too sure about that.
Don't own this, don't own this, don't own this...
Thanks be to Haggridd and Madhuri for making sure I don't sound stupid as I write.

*~*~*

Chapter 3
Sorting

Morag stood quietly, looking at Professor McGonagall as she continued speaking. He felt a bit squished and was still wobbly from being on the boat. He really hated boats.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the great hall, you will be sorted into your houses. Sorted? Morag though. Sorted how? We aren’t expected to know any magic before we get here of course, else they would never invite people who were Muggles or half Muggles. But still… He quit worrying and continued to listen, noting that Miriam had said some things about this to him when they first spoke about Hogwarts. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Miriam’s in…which one is it? Hufflepuff, that’s it. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards."

Morag was starting to get bored by this speech and quit paying attention, until he heard her say, "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school." Morag gulped. In front of everyone? That sounds embarrassing!

"I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." The stern Assistant Headmistress looked over the room, her eyes lingering on some of the students. Antigone, with little flakes of mud still of the hems of her robes, blushed a second and shook them off the best she could. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She left, and Morag let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

"I wonder how they sort us?" Antigone made sure she held onto the now silent Shadow.

"It's probably a lot simpler than we think, you know." Morag answered. They overheard voice mumbling something that sounded like spells. "I've heard of entrance exams and the like, but none of us knew any magic before we got here, right? They can't test us on what we don't know."

"Right," Carolina nodded, "We shouldn't panic. We should all just stay calm and--"

At that moment, several people screamed. All three startled, then turned to see a score of ghosts float through the back wall. Translucent and pearly, they glided over their heads in deep conversation with each other—almost as if they were arguing about something. It sounded like another of their group, Peeves, wasn’t being allowed at the banquet. The trio whispered furiously to one another. Why would ghosts want to be at a banquet? Can ghosts even eat? Maybe they came to watch the Sorting.

Morag kept completely silent when the ghosts started speaking. A tall lanky blonde girl looked like she was going to faint. "New students!" a fat little friar said, smiling warmly (as warmly as possible for a ghost). "About to be sorted, I suppose?" Some people nodded mutely. Carolina was one of them, Morag noted out of the corner of his eye. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

Morag shook off his fright and was about to ask the ghost of a friar what the House was like (Miriam hadn’t talked about it much) when a sharp voice broke the silence. "Move along now," Professor McGonagall announced. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." As she spoke the ghosts floated off through the wall opposite the one they came in. "Now form a line, and follow me."

Morag got in line behind a girl of Indian descent, who looked exactly like the girl before her. Behind him stood Antigone, with Carolina behind her. They walked out of the chamber quietly, back across the hall and through a set of double doors into what could only be the Great Hall.

*~*~*

Beautiful!

It was the first word that popped into Padma’s head. The hall was illuminated with thousands of candles that floated above all the tables to cast a soft glow. This is where the other students sat, quietly staring at them as they walked in. Padma shifted nervously. At the top of the hall in a higher place sat the teachers, and Professor McGonagall led them all to stand in front of this table in a line facing back out at the students. Ghosts hovered here and there, each with a faint silver shimmer. Padma looked at the head table to see a wizard with long silver hair wearing half moon glasses. Padma knew his face immediately, from her trading cards. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. She swallowed and turned back to face the front, where all the eyes stared at her.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years, then set a frayed and very dirty wizard’s hat on it. It had patches on its patches. As the hall became completely silent, Padma stared at it, wondering where she had seen that particular hat—until she recalled her reading of Hogwarts, A History. Just then one of the rips near the brim opened up and in a clear, bright voice, the hat started to sing. Its song was pretty basic; that nothing more complicated than putting on the Hat was how you got sorted into the houses; that the Gryffindors were brave and chivalrous, the Hufflepuffs strong steady workers, the Ravenclaws bright and clever, and the Slytherins ambitious and cunning. Everyone in the hall started clapping as the hat finished.

Padma grinned as she clapped, glad she remembered her reading. Beside her Terry sighed in relief. "My older brother David wouldn’t tell me what it was. He’s so mean." He motioned to a boy who was sitting at the table second to the left, with hair like his but much taller. Padma remembered how he liked to zip around them with some of the older children at parties, playing pick up Quidditch with a children’s set.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Professor McGonagall looked at the list. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Hannah stumbled out of line, blushing and moving her pigtails. Padma relaxed a bit. Alphabetical order was a great thing—she was always in the middle, right before Parvati. The hat fell right over Hannah’s head, sat on there a moment, then screamed out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" She sat the hat down and shuffled off to the table on the right as its members cheered brightly.

"Bones, Susan!"

A decent pause. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

Some consideration, as Terry shifted nervously under the hat. He seemed to shake his head a moment, then relaxed as the hat shrieked out, "RAVENCLAW!" This time the table that was second from the left burst into cheers and some of the Ravenclaws shook his hand. David, mussed his hair, grinning. Padma relaxed a bit as names were called. Her turn wouldn't be for a while.

*~*~*

Carolina watched as one by one, people were sorted. Some only took moments—one girl, Atlantia Huckle, barely had the hat on before it shouted "SLYTHERIN!" Others took a very long time—one tall, thin boy with blonde hair named Andrew Dickson sat on the stool trembling for almost a minute before the hat sent him to the Ravenclaw table.

"Hutchins, Oliver!"

The little brown haired boy that had ridden in her boat across the lake shuffled forward, picked up the hat and sat on the stool. Hs head was almost swallowed by the hat, and his little legs dangled down as he sat there quietly. A moment, and then—"RAVENCLAW!" Oliver grinned as he removed the hat and placed it back on the stool before heading to the Ravenclaw table amid cheers.

"Jemsin, Adrian!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Kamain, Alph!"

Carolina saw a mean looking boy with evil looking green eyes step forward. He dropped the hat on his head, and almost immediately the hat screamed out, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Kipley, Carolina!"

Carolina blinked, then made her way forward. She reached over and dropped the hat over her head, closing her eyes as it fell over them. There was a moment of silence, then a little voice whispered, "Hmm…My goodness, you’re a super smart one. It stands out like a flash. There’s almost no choice here, looks like you’re gonna be a RAVENCLAW!" The hat shrieked out the last word to everyone, and Carolina lifted off the hat. She walked over to the Ravenclaw table, hearing all the cheers and claps for her, and grabbed a spare seat to sit down.

Oliver grinned at her—he was sitting by her. "You’re the one who helped me into the boat, yes?" he asked. Carolina nodded. "I was hoping that we'd be in the same House." He flashed her a grin that lit up the Great Hall.

"Thank you." Carolina turned back to watch as "Lakely, Rita" was placed neatly in the Hufflepuff house.

*~*~*

"Longbottom, Neville!"

A round faced boy stumbled forward and promptly fell over. His toad was almost squashed under him, but he threw out his hands and the toad only slid a bit. He climbed to his feet sheepishly and picked up his toad before sitting down on the stool and dropping the hat on. It was very long time before the hat made its choice: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville hopped off as Professor McGonagall called out, "MacDougal, Morag!" He heard a few whispers from the head table and some of the older students, but thought little of it.

Morag stepped forward, then saw the hat was not on the stool. He looked over at Neville as he scrambled for the Gryffindor table—he was still wearing the Hat. He bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh-- that would make the situation even more embarrassing.

"Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall called out, looking at him sharply.

Neville stopped in his tracks, then looked around. "Oh—oh my," he whispered, then lifted the Sorting Hat off his head and jogged back as people giggled and laughed around him. He was blushing all the way to his ears as he set the hat in Morag’s hands. "I’m sorry," he sniffled.

"It’s okay," Morag said gently before lifting the hat and placing it on his head. He saw Miriam wave at him from the Hufflepuff table and cross her fingers as the hat slipped over his eyes.

"Decent thing there, not laughing at Neville," the Hat said softly.

No trouble. I wouldn't want to be laughed at if I were in his situation.

"Let’s see…you’re a brave one…but also bright, in equal proportions. Something like your father—I remember his sorting."

My father? What about him?

"Morag, I don’t tell about other people. Only you."

Ah. What about Miriam’s house? Would I do well there?

"No, you’re not Hufflepuff material. Another house would be better for your learning. They aren’t the brightest kids I put in there."

Thought so.

"Hmm...where should I put you? You could make great friends in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, and expand yourself in either. What do you think?"

Oh, let me be with Carolina, she’s such a nice person. I know, I can make new friends in Gryffindor, but we’ve just met, and we do get along so well. Plus, I would rather be known for being smart.

"Hmm…smartness over bravery. Not a bad choice. Well, if that’s what you want—you would like Gryffindor, you know, but as you asked—to RAVENCLAW!"

Morag ran over to the table (first making sure that he left the hat) and smiling, plopped down beside Carolina. Morag introduced himself to Oliver, the boy sitting next to her, bouncing up and down in his excitement. "Hey, what took you so long?" Carolina smiled.

Morag shook Oliver’s hand and then looked at Carolina. "It was between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. So I asked to be with my friend."

*~*~*

Antigone continued to hold Shadow in her arms as she watched Morag sit by Carolina. I hope I’m bright enough to get into Ravenclaw too—I don’t want to be in another house, I’d be lonely. Beside her now the same pale boy who had passed them on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters stood, looking bored as "Macmillian, Ernie" sat on the stool. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hello."

If looks could kill, Antigone would have been the only first year in the history of Hogwarts to miss being Sorted because of sudden death. With a drawling, very cold voice, he replied, "I don’t associate with mudbloods." Antigone was hurt. She didn't even know what a mudblood was, but it obviously wasn’t a compliment. She bit her lip and held Shadow closer.

"Malfoy, Draco!" The boy beside her swaggered forward and dropped the hat on his head. It barely got a chance to fall over his eyes before screaming, "SLYTHERIN!" He went to sit by the two hulking boys that had been near him earlier, smirking like a satisfied cat.

"Moon, Antigone!"

Antigone made her way forward, still holding onto Shadow. She managed to drop the hat on her head while holding on to Shadow, who looked at her quizzically just before the hat covered her eyes in darkness.

The same voice that had sang loudly now whispered to her. "First, I see a fair amount of bravery. Dear me…you have been through a lot to get here." There was a clucking sound, as if the hat felt a bit sorry for her. "That’s a considerable thing to do, and very brave as well. You also seem like a loyal, honest person—a bit shy—there is the potential to be a wise little witch one day."

Antigone’s shoulders slumped. I’m not smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, she sniffled silently.

"Hold on, miss, I didn’t say you were stupid. I said you have potential. As a matter of fact, you would do well in any of the houses—excepting Slytherin. They wouldn’t want you there, trust me."

But potential is not the same as brilliance. If my mind is the same as my heart, and heart is both bravery and loyalty, then that combined is more that what my mind alone is.

"Potential is a lot better. You will expand and become a very brilliant person, once I put you in Ravenclaw. Listen to yourself—you’re analyzing right now, and I haven’t even placed you. Always ask before you’re sure, that way you’ll know. Remember that."

O-okay.

"You might be brave, but your bravery won’t get a challenge in Gryffindor. You may be loyal but, contrary to your thoughts, your mind can become stronger than your heart. So, Antigone, I am Sorting you into-- RAVENCLAW!"

Antigone gasped, pulling the hat off her head. She had actually made it into Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw table was cheering, welcoming her in, and Carolina was jumping up and down with Morag. As soon as Antigone was by them Carolina swept her up in a tight hug.

Shadow, squished between them, meowed in protest.

*~*~*

"Patil, Padma!"

Padma ran forward and dropped the hat on her head, staring at the darkness. "Ah," the hat whispered. "A twin, yes? I hope you’re not like those Weasley brothers—they’re a wild set."

Padma nodded. She had heard about the Weasleys—the whole family had flaming red hair. There was even one to be Sorted in her year—she’d seen the whole family at the station. It was known that they were not one of the more affluent families, and once or twice they had been to a Patil party with their brood. But Mrs. Weasley almost never held dinner parties—probably because they could barely afford to feed themselves sometimes. The Patils understood this and didn’t hold it against them when they came over.

"Your mind’s rambling." The Sorting Hat sounded a bit lecturing. "You know, the idea is to think about where you want to go, not about other people."

Sorry.

"Hmm…a right little bookworm here. You seem to love learning and thought, yes?"

Very much so, I want to learn about everything that’s possible. Please let me go to Ravenclaw.

"Well, then the choice is clear. Nowhere else but-- RAVENCLAW!"

Padma replaced the hat, ran over to the Ravenclaw table, and sat by Mandy Brocklehurst, who still seemed awed by it all. She looked as if she felt much better having someone she knew from the Hogwarts express with her. Padma gently placed her hand on Mandy's, then watched as Parvati put on the hat. Please, put her in Ravenclaw too.

There was a moment of silence, then the rip opened as the hat announced, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Padma gasped. Surely—surely her sister wanted to be with her. Why’d the Hat separate us? Parvati took off the hat and went to the Gryffindor table, passing by her sister with an apologetic look and whispered, "Sorry—but I want to be a Gryffindor." Padma wanted to demand the hat reconsider—or at least, her sister reconsider—as her eyes filled with tears. But she knew that it was useless. Sighing, she looked at the table as "Perks, Sally-Ann" was called forward.

One girl who sat across from her—with caramel skin and plaited black hair—tapped Padma’s hand. "She's your sister?" she asked softly.

Padma nodded. "My twin. We’ve never been separated before this—she’s never voluntarily wanted to be away from me."

The girl looked as if she was going to say something else, but settled with just squeezing Padma’s hand with a small smile of friendship on her face.

"Potter, Harry!"

Padma's eyes widened at the name, and she climbed up on the bench on her knees to get a better look at the boy as he walked up to the stool. He appeared much as she had remembered from the few pictures in her copy of Modern Magical History-- of course, he was much older than the one year old boy in the pictures. He was small and skinny, with wild black hair that was all over the place. Bright green eyes peered out from behind round glasses held together with a lot of scotch tape. He’s actually very cute. Padma strained to find it-- the lightning bolt scar that was on his forehead. She didn’t see it before he placed the hat on his head and it sank over his eyes.

"What’s so special about him, Morag?" an auburn haired girl whispered to the boy beside her.

"I looked in one of Aunt Opaline’s history books—apparently that’s the person who defeated Voldemort when he was one year old," Morag shivered, "And the book said Voldemort was a horrible dark wizard."

Padma startled, and the boy beside the two shoved Morag. "Don't say that! Don't name him!" both of them hissed in fright.

"Hmm?" Mandy asked, noticing the conversation from her spot.

Their conversation was cut off just as the hat shouted out to the hall. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Padma snapped her fingers disappointedly as the Gryffindor table burst into the loudest cheers that anyone had gotten. One of the older Weasleys—there was no mistaking that red hair—shook his hand tightly and excitedly, and the two Weasley twins practically shouted to the enchanted ceiling. Padma took a quick glance at Parvati, who was shouting as loud as anyone at the Gryffindor table. Guess she's definitely over the separation already, she sulked silently. McGonagall waited until the cheers died down some, then called out, "Ranston, Robin!"

Morag and his friend turned back to Padma and the other little boy. "What was that you said, Oliver?"

"Don’t say You-Know-Who’s name!"

"Who?" The girl blinked confusedly. "Are you saying don’t say Volde—mmph!" For just then Padma had reached across the table and forcibly placed her hands over the girl’s mouth. She struggled, as "Rogers, Joseph" joined their table and sat down, overlooking the struggle with mixed amusement and shock. He was a skinny boy, like Harry, but his skin was pale honey brown and his eyes were a dark hazel-green.

"What’s going on here?" he asked, sitting beside Padma.

Padma turned and the girl managed to pry off Padma’s hand. "She almost said You-Know-Who's name!"

*~*~*

Antigone looked at Padma blankly. "Um, Padma?" She mumbled, a bit unsure of the girl’s name. Was she Parvati or Padma?

The girl turned to her now. "Yes—um, what’s your name? You didn’t tell me." Good, it’s Padma.

"Antigone Moon." Shadow meowed, as if confirming what his mistress said. "Um--why’d you cover Carolina’s mouth when she said that name?" She felt stupid asking, but if you didn’t ask when you didn’t know, then you'd never know—that's what the Hat had said. "You see, Morag’s been raised by his Muggle mum, and Carolina and I are Muggle-born. So we don’t know why not to say his name."

"Well, you just don’t. Many families lost people in the first era when he came to power. One of the girls Sorted into Hufflepuff—Susan Bones—lost both her grandparents and all of her big brothers and sisters. The only reason she’s alive is because she was a baby and her mother and father had to keep her at home that night." She pointed out a girl with mousy brown hair.

Carolina blinked. "Oh—okay, then. I won’t say it." They all turned to see that only four people had to be Sorted. "Thomas, Dean," was quickly placed in Gryffindor. Lisa Turpin, a tall, lanky blond girl was placed at their table, and she grinned as she sat down by Mandy.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Antigone watched the tall, red headed boy step forward, pale green as he put on the Hat. She noticed that there were three other redheaded freckled boys at the Gryffindor table. Those must be his brothers. But that doesn’t mean he’ll be with his family. Like Padma. "GRYFFINDOR!" The boy that they had said was the famous Harry Potter clapped loud as he could as the boy sat down. After the last person was made a Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled her scroll up neatly and put the Hat and stool away before taking her place at the head table.

A man with long silver hair and half moon glasses rose to his feet, his arms held open as if he was hugging them all. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words." He paused. "And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" He smiled. "Thank you!" He sat back down, and Antigone giggled while others clapped and cheered.

"He’s silly," she said softly.

"Silly? He’s the best damn wizard in the world!" Padma looked indignant.

"Even so, he’s got a sense of humor." Antigone grinned just before the just before the large platters in front of her filled with all sorts of food.

*~*~*

Carolina grabbed a lamb chop, several scoops of green beans, a spoonful of broccoli and rice, and a wheat roll before setting her plate in front of her and starting to eat. Padma got everything but the meat. She announced, "I don't eat meat." When Carolina looked at her plate confusedly.

"Can you eat proper that way?" Lisa mumbled through a mouthful of roast chicken.

"I’ve done it for years. No one in my family eats meat, other than fish. There’s none on the table though…" Just then a platter of hot smoked salmon appeared. Padma blinked.

"There is now." Morag grabbed one of the fish and started to cut it up on his plate.

"Enjoying yourselves, dears?" a soft voice said. Carolina looked up, seeing a tall witch with long, neatly braided hair hover near them. She looked like she came from the middle ages—under her robes Carolina noticed very simple slippers and a simple homespun dress. Carolina nodded, not being afraid of the ghosts much now. "I’m the Grey Lady—Ravenclaw’s resident ghost. My full name was Felicity Elizabeth Angelica Greyfourde when I was alive, but that’s a bit long, so I’m just called the Grey Lady now. Not quite as exciting a sobriquet as 'the Bloody Baron'," she pointed out an evil-looking ghost wearing robes stained all over with silver blood, sitting at the Slytherin table—"or as embarrassing an epithet as 'Nearly Headless Nick'." She nodded her head towards a ghost who, just as Carolina looked, grabbed his left ear and pulled his head off his shoulders so that it fell on his shoulder. "When they beheaded him, they didn’t do it right."

Carolina nodded, pushing her plate away and picking up her roll to finish it. She wasn’t quite full, but was always a dessert course at a banquet, and dessert was her favorite part. "Well, how’d you die?"

"Dragon. It came through my fields, long ago. This was before the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy so I and the others in the village that were witches and wizards ran out with our wands at the ready to subdue it and get it to go away. I almost had it, but then it turned and roasted me like a turkey." The Grey Lady shrugged. "Anyway, here's dessert. Go on."

Carolina turned to see the plates were all clean, and in the center sat every type of dessert she could think of. Carolina filled a bowl with vanilla pudding and dug in while the others conversed. Shadow was asleep in Antigone’s lap while she delicately ate strawberries dunked in cream. Carolina took a drink of the iced pumpkin juice and listened to the conversations around her. Padma was explaining some of the things about the wizard world, with help from Terry, Lisa, and Oliver. Right now, she was explaining moving pictures. "I’d show you, but I left all my things on the train—before we go to bed, I’ll show you a few of my trading cards and things." Padma finished off a doughnut. "I’ve got a lot of them—some doubles, if you want to start collecting or trade with me."

Morag reached in his jeans pocket. "I think I have Merlin with me. I got it in a Chocolate Frog." He pulled out the card and held it up, and Carolina recognized the picture that had looked at them seriously, though not at all fiercely. Merlin was leaning on the frame of the picture, looking quite disturbed by being shown off like an oddment. "Yes, that’s it!" Padma pointed at the card and Merlin shot her a look as she did so. "See?"

Mandy nodded, nibbling on grapes. "How do they move like that?"

"They’re developed in a special potion, which makes the pictures move. If any of you have a Muggle camera or something and you like developing pictures, then I’m sure that you can make them move."

"I do," Carolina said.

A pretty Asian girl with shoulder length dark hair looked up from her ice cream. "Muggle-born?" Carolina nodded. "My name’s Cho Chang. I’m a second year. I have some of that solution to develop pictures—tell you what, I’ll show you how to develop them. I find Muggle photography interesting; it’s my favorite thing other than Quidditch."

"Quidditch? What’s that?"

"Oh, that’s right, you’ve never heard of Quidditch. It’s a sport—do you like sports?"

"I like to watch them."

"Oh, it’s a delight to watch—there’s four balls and seven players, all on broomsticks, and three goal posts. I can explain it better when we have the tryouts. First years aren’t allowed to play, because you can’t bring your own brooms to school and some of you don’t know how to fly at all. I’m going to try out this year. Maybe I’ll make Chaser."

A boy next to Cho with violet eyes and reddish-gold hair stepped in. "You talking to the first years?" he asked.

"Yes, Lawrence." She tapped Carolina. "This is Carolina Kipley—she’s Muggle-born."

"Ah, cool!" Lawrence took her hand. "Name’s Lawrence Hillbourgh—wizard-born, myself, but fascinated with Muggles and their things. Do you guys really have lights that don’t work on fire? Electricity, I was told it’s called. And batteries too—ooo! You have a Muggle watch!" He took Carolina’s hand and looked at her watch. "It won’t work here on the Hogwarts grounds, of course. See, it stopped long ago. I'm sure I can find you another watch, one that runs on magic--they make them. We third years are allowed to go into Hogsmeade on trips—if you have some spare money, I’ll buy you one."

"Thanks." Carolina smiled. Lawrence leaned and asked about the others at the table—he raised an eyebrow when he heard Morag’s last name but said nothing. Carolina found him very friendly and intelligent. He even tickled Shadow under the chin and made him purr, which made Antigone smile. "You’ll like the Ravenclaw house. We stay up at night, discussing things and being creative—you should see our common room, it’s covered in projects and things. Of course, it’s not right now because we haven’t started on this year’s designs. All the members of that year get together and make their area look however they want. We decorate for the holidays too, and the year that gets the highest vote gets a special gift from the others. You’ll love the room once you see it."

"They’ll see it in a few minutes," a girl with long curly hair said, placing down her spoon. "The Headmaster’s about to speak to us."

"Who’s that?" Morag asked Lawrence as the girl turned back around.

"Penelope Clearwater, a fourth year. She’s very smart." Lawrence leaned over to whisper. "She’s a bit of a wet blanket at times—doesn’t like to rock things much."

"Shh!" Penelope hissed. "Professor Dumbledore’s about to talk."

"Oh, don’t get your knickers all knotted up," Lawrence teased. "I’m not a first year."

"You’re only a third."

"You’re only a fourth."

It sounded like they were going to bicker more, but the desserts disappeared and Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall went silent.

"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered." Carolina tuned most of it out—she had held a few cookies and was munching on them.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." Cho’s eyes danced at the announcement.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"Hmm," Lawrence said. "Well, we’ll do as he says. No use mussing the pond water when the mud’s settled."

"What do you think the reason is?" Terry asked.

"Whatever it is, it’s none of our business," Penelope cut in. Lawrence made a face at her.

"And now," Professor Dumbledore finished up, "before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Lawrence and Cho groaned, and Carolina noticed even the teachers looked chagrined behind their smiles.

"What’s so bad about this?" Lisa asked.

"Now, everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" Dumbledore started to sing.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts…"

"That’s what’s so bad," Lawrence hissed as the school broke out in a bellowing song.

Carolina winced, slamming her hands over her ears in the cacophony as everyone sang in different pitches, tunes, speeds, and howls. She noticed that one section of the Ravenclaw table was in perfect pitch with each other as they sang the same tune. They were tuned out considerably by the others, but still very nice. Finally, the only ones left were the redheaded twins at the Gryffindor table who sang as if the School Song were a funeral march. Once they finished, everyone clapped (with Professor Dumbledore clapping the loudest). Carolina uncovered her ears just in time to hear, "And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Ravenclaws all rose to their feet in groups, and a tall boy with neat glasses and a silver badge pinned to his chest with a P on it rose and motioned. There were seven people who all had these badges, and they motioned for all the Ravenclaws to follow them. As they headed up and down stairs and under different tapestries, whispering and chatting, Carolina saw Antigone tap Lawrence on the shoulder. "Lawrence?" she asked meekly.

What is it, Antigone?" He turned to face her as they walked through a sliding panel.

"I’ve been meaning to ask you older kids since I sat down, but it just came back to my mind."

"Yes?"

"Well, when I was standing waiting to get sorted, one boy named Draco Malfoy was rather nasty to me. When I tried to say hello, he told me that he didn’t associate with mudbloods."

The older students stopped dead in their tracks, and the prefect next to them had to call sharply to make them continue walking forward. "He called you what?" Cho said furiously. "Why that swotty little brat—stupid Malfoys, I knew he was one the second I saw him."

"A mudblood," Carolina repeated. "Is that the same one who was at the platform when we got on the express?" Antigone nodded, looking like she wanted to cry. Carolina looked a bit frightened. "Did—did Antigone say something nasty? Is it like You-Know-Who?"

"I’m sorry, I only wanted to know the meaning." Antigone looked at her feet.

"No, it’s not as bad as You-Know-Who, but still fairly nasty. Don’t feel bad, you didn’t know." She placed a hand on Antigone’s shoulder. " ‘Mudblood’ is a really degrading term for people born that have two Muggle parents, like you two. The Malfoys and a lot like them look down on anyone who’s not a pure-blood—in other words, only wizard blood."

Lawrence sighed. "In Ravenclaw, that problem’s not really here. We try to achieve to be better than that. Slytherin, on the other hand—well, You-Know-Who was in there. But enough said about that, we’re almost to Ravenclaw Corners."

"Raven-what?" Terry asked.

"Ravenclaw Corners. It’s what we call our place."

The prefect beside them—a girl with short blonde hair—leaned over. "Now, the password’s a bit long this time, but it’s only till we change it later. It’s 'Si Hoc Legere Posses, Nimium Eruditionis Habes.' Latin for ‘if you can read this, you’re overeducated.’" She kept leading them forward, until they made it to a large tapestry with various letters, symbols, and colors woven into it, as well as picture of the Greek goddess Athena. The prefect tapped on the tapestry twice, and Athena turned and whispered, "Password?"

"Si Hoc Legere Posses, Nimium Eruditionis Habes," she answered calmly.

The letters shifted back into place, then the tapestry slid over to one side to reveal a rather nice wooden door. Everyone walked in and they got a first look at Ravenclaw Corners.

--Tasha

Birds of a Feather: First Flight - Chapter 2

2005-09-05T06:01:37Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight

Author's Notes: A bit of the text near the end is directly quoted from Sorcerer's stone pg. 111-114 American Edition, because I had to capture what Hagrid and Prof. McGonagall said.

Remember, ships don't float in the sky of Ravenclaw Blue here. *sings* Sky of blue, sea of green, in a yellow submarine--darn those Beatles!—we all live in a yellow submarine…

Also needing remention: I don't own this. I tried the Polyjuice potion, but I didn't turn into J. K. Rowling. I got the wrong hair and turned into a rabbit. So nope, this isn't mine.

Many thanks and cookies to Haggridd and Madhuri, my beta readers. ^.^

Okay, have fun reading.

*~*~*

Chapter 2:
Hogwarts, Here We Come!

"Padma! Parvati! Get up girls!"

Padma yawned and tugged the covers over her head. "Fifteen more minutes, Father," she whispered sleepily.

"Get up! It's the first of September! We've got to get to King's Cross Station in time to make sure that we won't miss the Hogwarts Express."

That roused Padma immediately. She scrambled out of bed pulled on her house slippers, then went over and shook Parvati. "Parvati! Get up!" Parvati grumbled reluctantly, got up anyway. The twins quickly dressed alike in black slacks and purple turtleneck sweaters, then took turns braiding each other's long thick black hair. Just as they were fastening purple ribbons to the ends of their braids, their father came in and started to take their trunks downstairs. As soon as they finished dressing, Padma and Parvati headed to the kitchen, where their mother sat sipping her morning tea, a drowsy look appearing prominently on her face. She must have just woken up, thought Padma.

"How are we going to get to London without being seen by Muggles?" Mrs. Patil stifled a yawn as she got on her feet. Amar was nowhere to be seen. He was still fast asleep. "We could use the Floo Network, but then we’d have to appear at the Leaky Cauldron and walk to the station—but that’s such a far distance to walk with two heavy trunks. Broomsticks are right out, of course." She set breakfast in front of the twins, who hurriedly started to eat, impatient to get going.

"And the girls can’t Apparate, of course," their father said. "I guess we can take taxis. I’ll call Taiga’s." He threw a pinch of powder into the fireplace and called, "Taiga’s Taxi Service." There was a moment of silence, then a young man in uniform appeared in the flames. He didn’t step out however. "Taiga’s Taxi Service, servicing wizard transportation needs since 1904. What is it you’ll be needing?"

"One taxi from the Patil residence to King’s Cross Station, please," Mr. Patil said.

"We’ll be there in a few minutes, Mr. Patil." The man disappeared back into the flames. Padma pulled out her book again from her tote bag and was about to start reading while she finished off her eggs when her mother appeared fully dressed in a simple blue-black pants suit, holding a very sleepy Amar. He was still in his pajamas.

"Finish eating, girls. The taxis will be here any minute now. They don’t take long at all, you know. Padma! How many times do I have to tell you no reading and eating at the same time! You'll get foodstains all over your books!"

"But Mother--"

"Don’t ‘but mother’ me. Put the book away and finish eating." Padma grumbled and but closed her book. They had just finished breakfast when there was a knock on the door.

"The taxis are here!" Parvati, forgetting that her plate was still on the table, ran towards the door with her tote in hand. Padma got up slowly and went outside, where her father and the taxi driver were placing the luggage in the trunk. Her mother flicked her wand, causing the breakfast dishes to soar up, then fall into the sink. She closed the front door with a locking spell, then climbed into the taxi beside Parvati, who had rushed to get a seat by the window. Amar, still asleep, sat on her lap. Padma slid in beside her mother, and their father sat in the front by the driver. The driver started up the car, and they drove off towards London.

*~*~*

Antigone Moon placed her backpack in the back seat while her mother and Esmerelda Toners, of the Muggle-Born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office, placed her large trunk into Esmerelda’s car. It looked at first as if it wouldn’t fit, but Esmerelda pointed out how her trunk was charmed so that it would hold more than it looked. The trunk fit in neatly.

She went up to the room where she and her mother had been staying the past few weeks. She had neither seen nor heard from her father. Her aunt had reported that he'd been calling every few days with some rather nasty comments, however her mother hadn't taken the calls. As Shadow prowled around her bed, Antigone picked him up to put him in his carrier. "C'mon, Shadow, we're on our way to Hogwarts now, you have to get in here." Shadow yowled as if offended, spitting and hissing at his new Mistress. Antigone finally managed it, then looked at him as he glared at her with big yellow eyes. "I know, I’ve let you wander free since we got home from Diagon Alley, but I don’t want to lose you on the trip." She picked up the carrier and headed downstairs to the car.

As she set Shadow inside, her aunt looked over at Antigone’s mother. "What platform are you leaving from?"
Antigone looked at her ticket. She’d kept her ticket in her bag so that there would be absolutely no question of where it was. "Platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock."

"Platform what?" Her aunt looked a bit shocked.

"Nine and three-quarters, auntie."

She reached into the car and took the ticket from Antigone. "You must have misread it." She looked the ticket up and down. "No, that's what it says: Hogwarts Express... September the first... Eleven o'clock... Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. There must be an error. There is no platform nine and three-quarters. I've taken lots of trains from King's Cross and there has never been a platform nine and three-quarters. We'll figure it all out once we get there." She handed back the ticket.

"Most certainly," Esmerelda replied. She looked at Antigone with a knowing look.

"I guess so," Antigone whispered. Her mother nodded, and they headed off to the train station. It was a rather uneventful trip. Antigone spent it reading one of her textbooks.

They arrived at the station about a quarter past ten. Antigone’s mother helped lift the trunk onto one of the carts, and the trio wheeled the cart into the station, Antigone holding on tightly to Shadow’s carrier.

"Antigone!"

She turned to see Carolina Kipley calling her over to platform nine, while waving with a piece of half-eaten toast in her hand. Her trunk was on a cart beside her, with Nike sitting in her cage on top, looking quite indignant at the throngs of people that passed by. She ran over to Carolina, jostling Shadow's carrier and causing him to let out more pitiful mewling. Her mother and Esmerelda came up behind her, pushing her trunk.

"Hello, Carolina. It seems you got here just fine." said Antigone's mom.

"Yes, Mrs. Moon. Papa and I had a nice trip here—Nike was the only one complaining because she was in the cage the whole time." She tapped Nike’s cage, and Nike looked over at Antigone boredly.

"Where is you father, actually?" inquired Ms. Toner.

"He’s off looking for you. I’ve spent the past weeks training Nike. I also bought one of those gloves bird keepers wear so she can perch on my arm without hurting me." She took a munch on her toast.

Mr. Kipley came back up then. "Haven’t found her yet. She must be wearing norm—I mean Muggle clothes. She does tend to blend in rather well." he added, embarrassed.

"Very well indeed, I should say, seeing as I’m standing right here," Esmerelda quipped.

"Oh! Hello." Mr. Kipley looked a might sheepish.

"Never mind. Now, do any of you remember how to get onto the platform?"

"Not really," Antigone’s mother said, meekly looking at her feet. "I know it has something to do with this barrier here. Perhaps it opens up."

"Maybe. Perhaps we’re early." Carolina suggested.

"None of those," Esmerelda corrected. "The Muggles aren’t paying a lot of attention right now, so I’ll take you all through now."

"Through what?"

Esmerelda pointed directly at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. "Just walk straight towards it."

"What?" Carolina said. "It’s quite solid!"

"To Muggles and those who don’t see it, yes. To us, it’s just an illusion. Don’t stop once you head towards it. And pretend to look interested at something else, so that it appears casual. Go on now. You two first," she said, motioning towards Antigone and Carolina. "I’ll bring your parents behind you."

Carolina and Antigone looked at each other, almost worried. "Well, okay…" Antigone replied shyly.

"I’ll lead," Carolina suggested. She picked up Nike's cage in one hand, reached out and took Antigone hand with the other, then pulled her forward, towards the barrier. Antigone scrunched up her eyes, imagining how silly she would look if her nose bashed up against the barrier. She worried too that Shadow's carrier might crack open if they hit too hard.

"Whoa." Carolina’s breathless voice made Antigone open her eyes. She cracked one eyes and then gasped, squeezing her hands tightly around the handle of Shadow’s carrier.. Before them was a large scarlet steam engine with lots of people wandering around the platform, placing trunks on the train and gathering in groups. Many of the adults were in robes, and so were some of the children. They stood there, turning and looking at the sight. A pale boy with a pinched face walked past them casually as Carolina squealed, "This is so cool!" He looked at them as if they had made a scene, then mumbled something as his parents led him off with his trunk and owl. It sounded like "mudbloods," but Antigone ignored him. Whatever he had said, it wasn't important. He didn't look very nice, anyway.

Behind them their parents and Esmerelda appeared, underneath the iron archway that read Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. "Come on, I know there’s an open cabin near the front. Let's load your trunks."

"I’ll help." Mr. Kipley stepped forward. "If Antigone’s trunk is like Carolina’s, it’s more than a bit heavy." Together he and Esmerelda, along with two railroad porters, helped tuck their trunks into one of the empty compartments. Mrs. Moon followed as they got situated into the compartment. "You don’t have to put on your robes now, but it’ll make it easier near the end of the trip."

Carolina nodded. I'll put them on before we get there."

"Mine’s in my backpack," Antigone said. "I’ll—I’ll do the same."

"Surely," Esmerelda said, grinning. "We’ll see you off, of course, we’ll be waving."

Antigone nodded. Her stomach fluttered with excitement. I’m on my way to Hogwarts.

*~*~*

Morag MacDougal walked up and down the corridor carrying his trunk with his cousin Miriam's help. Aunt Opaline, Miriam and he had gotten to King's Cross Station without any difficulty. His mother had not come—she had wanted to, but she couldn't afford to refuse the offer of extra hours work when the call came from her job—so his aunt was seeing them off by herself. Miriam had already tucked her trunk away in another compartment with two of her friends, and was just waiting for Morag to find a place.

"Hurry up, Morag," she complained. "Your trunk’s extremely heavy, and carrying it is no picnic."

Morag ignored her and peeked into one of the compartments that didn’t look as full as the others. He knocked on the door and it was slid open by a girl with thick curly auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and dark eyes that looked at him quizzically. Behind her he could see a large brown owl in a silver cage. "Yes?" she asked.

"Is this compartment full?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Come on in, there's only my friend and I. You'll fit."

Morag let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks a lot." He motioned to Miriam, and they carried in his trunk and stowed it inside near the other two. Miriam went off to her friends, and Morag sat down on a bench on the opposite side of the cabin. The other girl inside was sitting meekly, holding a small black kitten on her lap. Her dark black hair was in a neat plait, and her skin was a pretty caramel brown. The auburn haired girl grinned at Morag. "I’m Carolina Kipley and this is Antigone Moon. We’re first years. What about you?"

Morag pushed back some of his hair from his eyes. "Me too. My name’s Morag MacDougal."

Carolina shook Morag’s hand. "Nice to meet you." She looked out the window. "They're getting up steam. We'll be going soon. Come on, Antigone, put down Shadow and wave at your mum."

Antigone set the tiny kitten on the floor and leaned out the window. Morag heard Carolina calling out loudly, "Bye, Papa! The train’s about to leave!" Antigone’s quieter voice called out to her mother behind Carolina’s, and they both received calls back of "Have a good term!" and "Take care, honey!" There was a whistle, alerting that the train was about to pull off. Morag leaned over the both of them and saw a tall, brown haired man, a pretty black haired woman, and a petite black woman waving at Antigone and Carolina. He saw Aunt Opaline behind them and waved out the window himself, grinning. She waved back at him. Morag looked down the train and saw Miriam waving and calling out happily to her mother. The train started to pull off, and all three of them waved until the train turned a corner and the platform went out of sight.

"Are all those people in your family?" he asked just before they all sat down and Antigone picked up Shadow from where he was batting around a feather that had fallen from the owl’s cage.

"No," Carolina said. "The man’s my father. The black lady is Antigone’s mother, and the other lady is a Ministry official. She helped us get into Diagon Alley when we went shopping."

Morag looked at them confusedly. "You had a guide with you in Diagon Alley?"

"Of course," Carolina said.

"I didn't. I went with my mother, my cousin and my aunt."

"Well, we didn’t know a thing about magic before we got our letters."

Antigone looked up from playing with Shadow. "We’re Muggle-born witches," she whispered. She must be awfully shy, Morag thought to himself. Carolina seems to talk more than her—and louder too.

"Oh—I’m a half and half, I guess, My father was a wizard, but my mother's a Muggle. I wonder how many people starting this year have Muggle blood in them," he mused.

"Probably a good number of us, if there is a Muggle-Born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office." Carolina remarked. "I wonder when the lunch cart comes around. Papa had me exchange some Muggle Money so I could buy lunch—I doubt I’ll need many Muggle things here at Hogwarts." The owl opened one eye and looked at Morag, then hooted softly and went back to sleep. Carolina motioned up toward where she saw Morag was looking. "That’s Nike, my owl. I heard that owls are used for mail and stuff. It sounds so interesting. Do you know anything about magic? Did your father tell you all about it?"

Morag looked a bit hurt. "My father’s been dead since I was a little baby."

"Oh." Carolina looked highly embarrassed. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I just assumed—since you didn’t have a guide with you in Diagon Alley…"

"My aunt’s a witch—she’s my father’s sister. And Miriam—she’s my cousin, and this is her last year at Hogwarts. She’s who helped me carry in my trunk."

"Oh," Antigone said. "I wondered who she was—she didn’t look like a sister."

"Nope, I’m an only child. What about you two?"

Carolina spoke up first. "I live with my father—my mother divorced him when I was about five and went to live in the States. At first I was going to live over there, but then Mum remarried and I decided to stay with my papa. I’ve got half brothers and sisters, but I’ve never seen them—they all live with Mum and her new husband. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen my mother in a few years; but Papa and I get along well. We live near the moors, way outside of London."

Antigone was a bit reluctant to speak. "I’m the oldest daughter—I have five little brothers and sisters. My mom and dad are—erm, they’re currently separated." She blushed furiously in embarrassment. "I live pretty far from London, but not quite so far as Carolina."

Morag looked out the window. "We’re far out of London now. What time is it?"

Carolina looked at her watch. "It’s a little past twelve. I wonder when the food's coming?"

Just then there was a shuffling outside and the door was slid back by a dimpled woman. "Would you like anything off the cart?" she asked, smiling.

The three stepped out and looked over the cart. There were all sorts of treats: pasties, thick sandwiches packed with meat, and various candies. "What would you recommend?" Morag asked the lady.

"Ah, Muggle-borns!" she grinned. "You’ve never seen stuff like this, have you?"

All of them shook their heads. "The Cauldron Cakes are very good," she said, handing Morag some. "And I bet you’d like Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. Now when I say every flavor, I mean every flavor. There are the good ones, like chocolate and cherry, but there are some in there like salad dressing and pocket lint." She held out a bag. "You can taste one if you wish."

"Those sound cool!" Carolina pulled out a white looking one before putting it in her mouth and chewing. "EW! Yuck!" She spit it out, making a face. "It tastes like school paste!"

The witch grinned. "I warned you-- every flavor. I also have pumpkin juice, pumpkin pasties, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum—it blows bubbles that won’t pop for days—Chocolate Frogs, and Licorice Wands as well as some other stuff. Get whatever you want."

The three looked all over the cart until they finally decided on a small stack of Cauldron Cakes, a sandwich each, and some iced pumpkin juice (On Morag's advice, Antigone bought and tasted a glass first, and informed Carolina that it wasn't too bad). Carolina bought some Every-Flavor Beans—despite her initial reaction—Antigone purchased a handful of Licorice Wands, and Morag got a goodly amount of the Chocolate Frogs. They each paid their share and settled down to eat.

Through a mouthful of sandwich Carolina asked, "Want to try a bean?" She swallowed before continuing, as she held out a handful. "There’s bound to be a few okay flavors in there."

Antigone looked at it suspiciously, then picked up a greenish one and chewed on it. "Grass," she announced.

Morag took another, a purple one. "Mmm…grape."

Carolina tried another. "Hey, strawberry. Guess it’s a take your chances type of thing."

*~*~*

Padma looked up from her book at the group that had assembled in her compartment, finished off a Chocolate Frog, and added the enclosed "Circe" card to her tote. It wasn't that she was antisocial, but now she was even further along in her book and didn't want to put it down. In the compartment were four additional persons who had come over from their cabin to visit and play around. Padma knew all but one of them from childhood.

Her parents had guests stay over whenever they had held dinner parties, so now she could place their faces easily, once they had seen one another. Terry Boot was a somewhat chubby wizard with large blue eyes and thick brown hair. Hannah Abbott had long blond hair she almost always wore in pigtails. Lisa Turpin was a tall, lanky blonde who was a half muggle—her father was muggle, but her mother was a witch, and both had come to functions the Patils held. She’d been the one who brought the Every Flavor Beans with her. Mandy Brocklehurst was the one she didn’t know—a pretty Muggle-born girl with shortly clipped brown hair and green eyes that darted all around the cabin. She’d come in with Lisa—Lisa knew her parents through the Muggle parties she’d attended at times. (Padma remembered when Lisa had come back from a Muggle birthday party when she was seven and complained that there hadn’t been anything useful in the noisemakers.) Parvati was the one who’d invited them to come over—Hannah and another girl, Susan Bones, had been in here. But Susan had gone to Terry’s compartment instead.

"Ew! Yuck!" Lisa Turpin gagged. "Earwax!" She looked as if she wanted to spit, but she swallowed the whole thing down before grabbing a chunk of chocolate and stuffing it in her mouth. "That was beastly!" she mumbled through the mouthful. The others giggled.

Padma decided to join the group after finishing her next chapter and set her novel down. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"We're playing 'Guess The Flavor.' You pull out a bean, and everybody guesses what flavor. Whoever is closest to the truth gets to select the next bean." Lisa explained. "Whoever pulls it out has to eat it, however." she added with a grin.

"And no spitting allowed." Terry added, "You have to pop it in, chew it all up, then swallow it, no matter what—of course, we do have a decent supply of chocolate to help get rid of bad tastes. We’ve gone through half a bag so far. Want to play?"

Padma shrugged ."Might as well. Whose turn is it?"

"Mine," Mandy said. "I guessed beeswax, and that’s the closest. Everyone else thought it would be something tasty, like caramel or treacle tart." She reached into the bag and pulled out a pale blue and white speckled one. "Well?"

Hannah looked it over. She looked a bit confused. "Perhaps it’s blueberry. I’ll guess that."

"Blueberries aren’t that blue, they’re indigo. Plus, they aren’t speckled." Terry gave it the once over. "I’ll say that it’s pocket lint. I’ve had pocket lint that color."

"Ew," Mandy gagged. "I won’t eat it if it’s pocket lint."

"You have to." Lisa was staring at it now. She finally looked up. "It looks like sea foam. Ocean water."
Parvati was still staring at it. "Bird feather. Like blue birds."

Padma looked at it carefully. Hmm…I can’t think of a food that would be that color. The only thing it reminds me of is the color of house paint. I’ll go with that. "House paint."

Worried, Mandy gulped. "I wish you all had thought of better flavors than those." She tossed the bean into her mouth and began to chew. Immediately, she made a face. "It tastes like oil paints." She reached for chocolate as soon as she swallowed.

"Padma, you were closest. Your turn." Parvati poked her sister. "Go on, reach in."

Padma reached in and pulled out a white one. Immediately everyone had the same reply. "Toilet paper!"

"What?" Padma looked horrified. "Why that choice?"

"I got that one and it was toilet paper," Hannah nodded. "It was fairly gross. They all thought it was popcorn or maybe lotion." Everyone else nodded. "You’re going to need the chocolate."

"No other choice then?" Everyone shook their heads. Padma sighed and started to eat the bean, expecting the taste of paper. It wasn’t. "All wrong," she said, leaning back and chewing with a grin on her face. "It’s vanilla pudding."

"Nuts," Hannah said. "We were all wrong. That means you have to take another."

"I do?"

"Yes, none of us were close."

Padma sighed and was about to reach for another bean when a voice echoed through the train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minute’s time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

"No more time to play," Terry said as he, Lisa, and Mandy rose to their feet. "Later then? Padma, it’s your turn." Padma nodded as the three left and Susan Bones returned. They all pulled off their jackets and pulled on their robes, and the train came to a stop as they all looked at each other nervously and joined the crowd in the corridor.

*~*~*

Carolina held Antigone’s hand as Morag held her own. Some inner voice had told them to stay together. The feel of a handclasp was somehow comforting. Antigone held Shadow tightly to her—she had refused to leave him on the train—and he was mewling plaintively as she kept a tight grip on him. The doors opened up and Carolina got a quick glimpse of a small dark platform before a group of older students stepped in front of them. She followed them and stepped onto the platform. The night air was freezing. Carolina wished her hands were free so she could pull her cloak a bit closer around her, but she didn't want to let go of the two hands she was holding. "Where do we go now?" she whispered. "Did your cousin tell you?"

Morag shook his head. "Miriam’s headed off another way."

A large, booming voice called out over their heads. "Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!" Carolina turned to see a lantern bobbing over everyone’s heads, held up by a hand that looked like it could cover her entire head. She followed the hand to the arm, up the arm to see a face covered in thick wild black hair. "Firs’ years!" the voice boomed out again, and she saw that this man was its source.
She pulled Morag and Antigone behind her, toward the enormous man. They shuffled through the crowd and found themselves surrounded by a bunch of students like them—with nervous faces and shuffling steps. Beside them stood a young girl with thick bushy hair and large front teeth, who was trying desperately not to look as nervous as the others. Carolina caught her eye and mouthed, "Don’t be nervous." It seemed to calm her down a bit, and she let out a held breath that frosted in the air.

"C’mon, follow me! Any more firs’ years?" The voice kept calling out loudly. "Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years, follow me!" The lantern started to bob off, and Carolina let go of her friends' hands, who stayed right on her heels. They headed down a dark, steep path that was probably surrounded by thick trees—Carolina felt one brush her face and she shivered and pulled her robe tighter. Antigone hit a slick spot and fell with a shriek as Shadow yowled his disgust. Carolina caught her and lifted her to her feet as a wave of giggles broke out briefly. Carolina couldn’t see it, but she knew Antigone was blushing furiously as she tried to brush off some of the dirt from her robes. "Yeh’ll get yer first sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec," the same booming voice called out. "Jus’ round this bend here."

Carolina looked up and gasped just as a loud "Oooooh!" rippled through the crowd. The path was open to a large black glassy lake that didn’t even ripple in the night wind. On the other side was a tall mountain that had a backdrop of glittering stars. On top of the mountain was an absolutely splendid castle with turrets and towers full of iridescent windows. "No more’n four to a boat!" the man called out, gesturing to a fleet of small boats that floated on the shoreline. Morag gulped and started to shiver.

"What is it?" Antigone asked, still holding tight to Shadow.

"I don’t like boats," Morag sniffled.

"Oh," Carolina said, "It’ll all be right. You can hold my hand if you wish." She heard snickering beside her and turned to see that same pale boy who had been walked past them when they had arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. This time he was flanked by two large, brutish boys. "Oh, sod off," she hissed, tempted to push him into the lake. He glared back and sounded as if he was going to say something, but Carolina turned away.

Antigone, Morag and Carolina boarded, along with a small brown haired boy who had to be helped in somewhat. "Everyone in?" the huge man shouted just as Carolina sat down. He was in a boat to himself. Of course, Carolina analysed silently. He’s much too large to share a boat with someone.

He took a glance over the fleet. "Right then—FORWARD!"

Morag stiffened beside Carolina and dug his fingers into her arm as, all at once, the boats glided forward to a cliff. He kept his eyes shut the entire time, and looked as if he was going to be sick. Carolina, however, just stared at the beautiful castle, as it loomed closer and closer. She winced at Morag's grasp but didn't yelp. "Heads down!" the man called out as they reached the cliff. Carolina ducked and used her free hand to move away part of the ivy that brushed against her. The whole time, she kept her head down but her eyes open as they were carried through a dark tunnel. We’re probably right under the castle, she thought, as Morag whimpered beside her. Finally, the boat bumped against what sounded like a pebbly shore. Carolina shook Morag as Antigone and the other little boy climbed out. "You can let go now," she whispered.

Morag let go and Carolina stepped out as the man checked out each boat. Shadow was still in Antigone’s grasp; she had now wrapped him gently in a fold of her robe and he was silent. The only indication he was the lump in her jacket was his yellow eyes, glowing. The man inspected all the boats, returning a toad to a round faced boy. The group made their way up a passageway (this time Antigone didn’t fall), the lamp leading the way. Finally they came out on smooth, slightly damp grass with the shadow of the castle falling over them.

Carolina’s mouth fell open. The castle looked even more impressive directly in front of her—she wanted to tilt her head backwards and stare up at the very top. The crowd was moving towards the stone steps and the huge oak front door, so she made do with quick glances at whatever she could see.

"Everyone here?" the man asked, holding up his lantern carefully. "You there, you still got yer toad?" The boy nodded vigorously. The man turned, then raised a fist the size of two basketballs put together and knocked three times on the door.

The door opened almost immediately, and a tall, black haired witch stood in front of them in pretty emerald green robes. Her look was stern, and Carolina blinked. "The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall," the man said, motioning over the group.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied stiffly. So that’s his name. "I will take them from here." She opened the doors wider to reveal a entrance hall so wide that Carolina felt like she was being engulfed. Along the stone walls flaming torches lit the way, and when Carolina tilted her head up, she couldn’t even see the ceiling.

The group shuffled over the stone floor. "Pretty." Morag whispered. Carolina nodded agreement as she looked up the marble staircase. There were the sounds of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, most likely leading to a large hall. Carolina suspected they would enter that way until Professor McGonagall led them to a small empty chamber on the side. They all made it in, a little closer than Carolina would have liked. At the other end of the chamber a girl with hair clipped short was looking around, her head darting around like a bird.

Professor McGonagall looked at all of them, her eyes stern. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

--Tasha

Birds of a Feather: First Flight - Chapter 1

2005-08-22T22:09:22Z

Birds of a Feather
Book One: First Flight
by Nethilia

History:
I started this fic um...you know, I don't know when I started this fic. I think it was sometime in 2001, right after my inital reading of the series. I was fic scanning and got tired of seeing fic after fic about Gryffindors and Slytherins. There was very little about Ravenclaw revealed other than Cho Change existing and a few other spare characters. So, seeing an open market. I started a fic about the Ravenclaws in Harry's year. This was long before any of them were revealed, so it's somewhat AU by characters. Ah well, what isn't with OCs in it, right? I do parallel the series (and haven't been screwed up by any revealed canon! Hah!) and am currently working on novel two. I'll post one of these every few days since it is a finished novel. This is also the only not F-locked story on this journal. If you want more tasty tidbits of writing, you'll need to join up.

I'm keeping all my old notes in here as well.

Author's Notes: Yay, my first HP fiction. This is a fic that's about the Ravenclaws of Harry's year. I'm starting with the first book, which is a parallel of HP and the Sorcerer's (Philosopher's) Stone. There might be a few vague mentions of Harry and the other major characters, but not a lot. I want you to look at these as what happens in the other house. (Always Gryffindor and Slytherin. I need fics about MY people, thank you.) There are a lot of author's liberties here, with a lot of characters. Not set ones though. Since almost none of the students I mentioned are seen in canon, other than a quick name mention, I've taken full liberty with who they are and what they act/look like/etc. I got their names from pulling last names and granting firsts, making them up entirely, or using the Harry Potter Lexicon to gather them. This fic was started after reading the first four books, and thus anything seen wrong in later books is not my fault. Got that?

I don't ship. So don't expect me to add any relationships that you care for. I don't care if Harry gets with Hermione and Draco gets with Ginny and Pig gets with Hedwig and Scabbers gets with Snuffles and Crookshanks gets with the Nimbus 2000. I'm just not that kinda person.

Oh, and please don't review me or e-mail me and state the obvious such as, "We don't know where Morag was sorted, or if Moon is female, or if Lisa Turpin is a short squat brunette instead of a tall lanky blond." It's called fanfic, and as such I get to take liberties. Especially because these people have no faces and names. And please please please compare my personality of Terry Boot--or any one else in canon--to the other fics you've read about him. No one knows what he acts like, honestly, except for a few spits. So if you would rather him be a suave sexy lover of all instead of how I make him, I'll have to decline. After all, we don't need TWO Siriuses in the world. *grin*

As we know, I don't own HP. Do I look like JKR, or Warner Bros., or Scholastic, or blahblahblah? No....
Many many thanks and cookies to my beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri (Otherwise I would have mixed names, Britishisms, and the fact that Wizards don't have fridges!) 20 points to each of them.
Okay, I'm done ranting happily. Thank you for dealing with me, read onward.

*~*~*

Birds of a Feather: First Flight
Chapter One:
Owl Post

Carolina Kipley dropped her binoculars after squinting through them at the barn owl that hovered near the barn. She had seen many owls flying out around the moors she lived near, so seeing one was no big deal. She lifted the binoculars again and looked more closely at this particular barn owl, first moving some of her thick curly auburn hair out of the way of her dark eyes.

Wait a minute… She looked more closely. Since when do owls carry papers in their beaks? She looked again, highly confused by now. No, not paper—parchment!

She dropped the binoculars and watched the owl. It looked as though it was flying towards her house. She watched as it came closer and closer, then swooped and started to descend towards her front door. It swooped, dropped the parchment on the ground, pecked twice on the front door, then flew off.

Carolina scrambled out and picked up the thick yellow parchment letter. The address on it was written in emerald green ink, and there was no stamp. She read the address aloud, finding it moderately strange. "Miss Carolina Kipley, The Second Bedroom, 12 Gully Lane…" She didn't get any further before she saw through the front door her father looming over her, looking at the letter. "Papa, what’s this?"

Her father looked at the letter, his eyes widening. He took it from her and flipped it over to examine the purple wax seal. "I—I don’t know…"

*~*~*

Morag MacDougal’s mother, Mavericka, sat down as she looked at the letter. ..."Oh my! I never suspected—I wasn't certain that this would ever come, but your father said it would…"

Morag stared at his mother with surprise. He’d gotten many letters before, but when he got this one, with its strange calligraphy and the unusual parchment, he’d taken it straight to his mother. She opened it, read over it, and then gasped in surprise. He waited till she sat down, then asked what had been preying on his mind. "Where is this letter from? What is Hogwarts? What do they mean 'You have been accepted'? I never applied to any Hogwarts."

Mavericka looked at her son, whose thick black hair fell into his wide almond shaped eyes, as it always did, and sighed. "Your father, rest his soul, was a wizard. I am what he would have called a Muggle, that is, a person with no magical skills. As the letter says, my son, you have been accepted to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school that trains wizards."

Weak at the knees with shock, it was now Morag's turn to sit down. "I'm a—a wizard?"

*~*~*

Padma Patil and her twin sister Parvati were not the least bit surprised by their Hogwarts letters. It would have been a major disappointment if they hadn’t come, actually. They were in a very well known wizarding family, and both their parents had been in Hogwarts when they were children. Anything less would have been a family embarrassment. They grinned in twin likeness as their parents read the letters.

"When do we go shopping at Diagon Alley, Father?" Parvati asked happily. "I can’t wait to get my wand."

"I want to get my books," Padma said. She’d been reading all the books she could get her hands on her whole life, wizarding books about everything. She especially liked the novels, and the books about magical beasts. Parvati wasn't into books as much as Padma, but she would read a lot as well.

"We’ll go in a few weeks," their father said in his thick English accent, patting Padma on the head. "Term starts in a little over a month, and we have to make sure that you two have everything you need."

Their mother hugged them tightly, grinning broadly. "My little girls are growing up!" she beamed. From his spot on the floor, their little brother Amar giggled as he played with a set of wooden blocks, each of them chiming a different note as he touched them. He flung one at Padma as she left the room, and the sound of an A sharp rang through the air. Luckily, their mother had charmed the blocks so that they glided slowly through the air and fell harmlessly to the floor.

Padma and Parvati ran up to their room, grinning. "Hogwarts," they said in a hushed whisper. "In a month and a half we’ll be at Hogwarts."

*~*~*

Antigone held the letter up in front of her, reading the words over and over, shocked beyond belief. "Dear Miss Moon, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Since you are Muggle-born we have arranged for you and you parents to be visited in the forthcoming weeks by an official from the Ministry of Magic to explain your situation in full. Please reply by post no later than July 31 to confirm your enrollment. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

Above her she could hear her mother and father fighting, screaming at each other. She knew they were screaming because of her. Her mother wasn't even supposed to acknowledge these things. She certainly was not supposed to give her daughter the letter-- but she had. She had replied to the Deputy Headmistress as instructed, and arranged to meet the Ministry spokesperson along with Antigone later that week. Now these actions had set off her father once again.

The other kids were crying as she hid there in the basement, sniffling. There were loud screams, and the sound of fighting. Antigone curled up, her light brown eyes red from crying. She hid there in the basement for almost an hour, until the screams died and she heard the basement door open. She wiped her tears from her cheeks, and hoped that it wasn't her father.

"Antigone?" Her mother’s soft voice whispered. "Antigone, are you here?"

"Yes, Mummy," Antigone replied softly. Her mother shuffled into view. Antigone snuffled as her mom pulled her into her arms. "Mummy, Daddy won’t let me go there. I’ll have to go to his school. You know how he feels about things like this."

"Antigone, this is a wonderful opportunity for you, and I won't let your father take it from you. You're going to learn magic, honey, real, honest to goodness magic. Do you know how proud this makes me?" Her mother hugged Antigone proudly. "Come on. We’re going to spend the night at my sister’s, and later this month, we’ll meet this official person and learn everything we can about this school. This wonderful school…"

Carolina and her father sat at a London café that was across the street from a record shop and a large bookstore. "The letter said to meet Ms. Toners here," her father said, as Carolina looked up and down the street from her seat.

"Did you bring what she asked you over the phone?" Carolina said.

"Yes, enough to buy your supplies for the year." He looked around, then checked his watch. "She said she would be here around noon, that there had been a change of plans with the other people she was meeting today and she had to pick them up. She’ll be here shortly, I hope."

Carolina, bored from waiting, gazed up and down the street. She hoped that it wouldn’t take too long. She was about to reach into her backpack and pull out the copy of Trumpet of the Swan when a very nice Miata pulled into the parking lot beside them. She watched as a woman in a pair of comfy jeans and a loose T-shirt climbed out, her long black hair back in a long braid. She seemed to be carrying something over her arm, a long cloth, and she had what looked like a wand in her hand. "We’re here, Mrs. Moon," she said, closing her door.

A black woman with thick curly hair climbed out of the car, wearing sunglasses. She opened the back door and a young girl, about Carolina’s age, stepped out. She was lighter than her mother, and her hair wasn’t as curly. She looked around fearfully, then gripped her mom’s hand. She’s awfully big to still be holding her mother’s hand, Carolina thought to herself. Well, whatever makes a person feel safe.

The trio walked over to where Carolina and her father sat. "Mr. Kipley?" the tall raven-haired woman asked. Carolina’s father nodded. "Good, good!" She took his hand and shook it firmly with her free hand. "I’m Esmerelda Toners, the lady who spoke to you on the telephone from my home. Just call me Esmerelda."

"The Ministry official?" Carolina piped up.

Esmerelda grinned. "Yes, Carolina, just one of many at the Muggle-born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office. This is Mrs. Moon and her daughter Antigone. She is starting at Hogwarts too. My assignment is to help you all during your first visit to Diagon Alley, where you will learn more about the wizarding world, and about what the children will be doing this first year." She motioned for the Kipleys to follow her. "To the Leaky Cauldron."

"You’ve done this often?" Antigone said. Her voice was much quieter than Carolina’s, and she still clung tightly to her mother’s hand.

"It’s my job, Antigone. I help Muggle students adjust to the wizarding world. I’ve been doing it since the letters started going out this summer."

"What's a Muggle?" asked Carolina.

"It’s people like your parents, with no magical talent. There are many young witches and wizards who are Muggle born or reared, and it’s the job of my department to lessen the shock a little for their families. Yesterday I spent the day with a charming young family named Granger. When she got to Flourish & Blotts, little Miss Hermione wanted to buy every book she saw. Bright girl, she'll make a great witch. Ah, here we are."

Antigone and Carolina saw a tiny, grubby looking pub that was nestled tightly between the record store and the book store. Those walking past didn’t even notice it, except for a few people who waved at Esmerelda before entering. A heavyset man in a blue suit and tie called, " ‘Lo, Esme! Taking more Muggle-borns on their first visit to Diagon Alley?"

"Sure am," she grinned. "Meet Antigone and Carolina."

The jolly man waved at the two girls. "Have fun! You’ve got one perky woman with you."

Grinning broadly, Carolina waved back. Antigone managed a half smile and a little wave before Esmerelda hustled them all in. The pub was dark and rather shabby. People dressed in long wizard's robes sat around tables, conversing while drinking unfamiliar drinks. Esmerelda shook out the garment she was carrying. The girls could then tell that it was a set of what could be considered rather fashionable dark grey robes. She pulled them over her clothes and tied them shut, then walked over to speak to the bartender, a toothless old man. then walked over to the bartender, a toothless old man. After speaking for a few minutes, she motioned to the girls’ parents. Carolina's father and Antigone's mother walked over. Carolina took this moment to speak to Antigone.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"A—a little," Antigone admitted. "I don’t know what to expect."

"Me too. I bet all the other first years that weren’t born to—what did she say our parents are?"

"Muggles."

"That's it. Muggles. I bet the wizard-born kids are all used to this. I feel sort of out of place."

"Me too."

"Well, we can be out of place together, right?"

Antigone grinned meekly. "I guess so."

Esmerelda walked back to where they stood and led them to one of the booths. "Come on, let’s sit at this table over here. Tom's going to bring us our drinks. Till then we can talk. I think I’ll start with the basics, is that okay?"

Mrs. Moon and Mr. Kipley nodded. Carolina and Antigone slid into the booth so that they sat between their parents.

"I'll begin with Hogwarts. It is the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in the country; to be enrolled there is quite an honor. We don't know how Muggles can have children with magical powers, but they do. Don't worry, you won't be alone-- far from it. There are a lot of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts; and at Hogwarts, you children will learn to use their powers safely, with skill and with ease."

The bartender walked up with a large teapot and five cups, along with a plate of crumpets. There was a few minutes of silence, while they were all served, then Esmerelda continued while the others sipped at their cups. "Any questions so far?"

Antigone spoke up. "You don't seem so much like a witch as do the other people here. You wore normal clothes..."

"Muggle clothing," Esmerelda corrected. "There’s nothing unusual about wizardry. It’s just a different world."

"Muggle clothing, then. And—and you drove a car up here and you said you called Mr. Kipley and Carolina from a phone. Do wizards know about things like that?"

"Not really," Esmerelda said. "But you see, I was Muggle-born, like you."

Carolina blinked. "But you blend in as if you were born to this world!"

Esmerelda shrugged. "I’m used to it now, after my years at Hogwarts and then at the Ministry. At first, they didn’t want to hire me—thought I was a bit daft to want to work in a high Department. Lots of stress there, most Hogwarts students who go into the Ministry pick something a little easier and work their way up. But when they saw my ease at communicating with Muggle-borns, and how easily I calmed their fears, they knew I was perfect for the Muggle-born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office. After all, having an owl deliver the letter was shock enough for your families, I expect."

Mrs. Moon nodded hard. "Very much so."

"Precisely. We Muggle-born witches and wizards explained to the Liaison Office that it wouldn't help much to have us pop out of thin air, wand out, at the new students' houses, dump them at the Leaky Cauldron, and then leave them to fend for themselves. We came up with this method of meeting and guiding each of you the first time. It's much nicer, I'm sure you all agree." She finished her tea and crumpet. "First of all, we’ll have to have your money converted. They don’t use Muggle money in Diagon Alley."

Mr. Kipley nodded. "Surely. Are we all done?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good!" Esmerelda rose to her feet. "Let’s head there now." She led them outside to a small walled courtyard, with a dustbin at the back wall. "Now remember this. Tap on the brick that’s three up and two across from the dustbin. Once you have wands, you’ll be able to do it yourselves. Very easy." She pulled out her wand and tapped the brick. It started to move, then a small hole appeared and opened up to make an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted into the distance.

They were all considerably surprised, and Esmerelda grinned. "I always get that reaction. Welcome to Diagon Alley."

*~*~*

Morag watched in fascination as his Aunt Opaline held out a pot of glittering powder. After the initial shock, his mother had alerted his aunt, his father’s sister, and she had Morag come over and explained to him all about Hogwarts. She was still a practicing witch, and she had sat down and spoken frankly to Morag about his magical heritage and what he could expect. He'd taken it all in, but was still a bit confused. Soon he would be going to get his school supplies and other material. Aunt Opaline's daughter Miriam was holding his hand tightly. Cousin Miriam was sixteen and a half years old, and would be starting her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. She had explained some of the things his aunt had not, and so she would be taking Morag to get his things.

"This is Floo powder." Aunt Opaline showed Morag. "Dead useful for traveling. Just take a pinch and toss it into the fire, then say ‘Diagon Alley’ very clearly and loudly. I’ve heard you speak in school plays, speak just like that. Once you get there, don’t move from the fireplace until Miriam gets there."

Morag pinched up the powder and tossed it gently into the flames. It turned emerald green and flamed up brightly. He stepped into the flames, which were as warm as a comfortable bath, and said clearly, "Diagon Alley."

Immediately there was a feeling of being sucked through a tube...He spun fast, feeling dizzy, but, thinking of it like a roller coaster ride, he stayed still as he spun. Minutes later he stumbled out of the flames and barely caught his footing as he stepped into a dark, shabby pub. He stood, taking in all the sights. Then he waited until Miriam showed up, wearing her Muggle clothing.

"You made it okay," she grinned. "Come on, that was the hardest part." She let him out into the courtyard, and then pointed out one of the bricks on the back wall before tapping it and waiting for the portal to open. Once it was open she led him through. "Mum has a vault in Gringotts Bank. She said that Aunt Mavericka can just pay her back, I’ll take out enough for both of us to buy things. I need to get new dress robes, my old ones are a big snug across the hips."

She took Morag’s hand—--even though he was big, she didn't want him to get lost here in this new world—and led him to a snowy white building that was much larger than the little shops around it. A goblin stood on the stairs wearing a uniform of vibrant red and sparkling gold. Morag looked somewhat fascinated, and grinned at the goblin. He bowed to them and they reached a pair of silver doors. Miriam skipped over the words as they were bowed through the door by two more goblins.

"What do the doors say?" Morag asked.

"Only that you’d be daft to try and rob the place. They’ve got dragons, and griffins, all sorts of tricks and security measures." She walked up to a free goblin stationed at the long counters. "I am Mrs. Opaline MacDougal's daughter Miriam," she said, holding up a small key, "I need to open her vault."

The goblin examined it closely. "Yes, that is her key. Who is this boy?"

"Mrs. MacDougal's nephew Morag. He starts at Hogwarts this term."

The goblin nodded and waved over another goblin. He led Morag and Miriam to one of the many doors that led off the hall. In this room was a stone passageway with tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled and a small rail cart wheeled up. They all climbed in and the car sped off.

Now this is like a roller coaster, Morag thought as they zipped down the tracks. They sped up and down, back and forth, over hills and into valleys, until they stopped at a small door. Miriam climbed out carefully and then unlocked the door. "It shouldn't take more than a hundred Galleons for both of us, more for you than for me, because you have to get fully outfitted. So, we'll take another handful, and toss in some Sickles as well."

"What?"

Miriam held up a gold, silver, and bronze coin. "Galleons are gold; sickles, silver. These little bronze ones are Knuts. Mum’s got a lot for me, and your papa left a lot for your education. Mum will just have Aunt Mave pay out of her vault."

"But what if I hadn’t made it into Hogwarts?"

"Gringotts has a transfer service," Miriam closed up the bag, and she and Morag got into the cart. "Your mum's been using it for years, especially that first year after Uncle Geoffrey died, before she found a job. She didn't tell you-- she felt bad about using it for awhile. She only used it when she had to, mind."

"Oh."

A few minutes later they were outside and Miriam led them towards Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. A squat, happy looking witch in mauve robes and a tape measure around her neck spoke while pulling out a pincushion. "What’ll it be, miss?"

Miriam glanced at the school list. "Three sets of plain work robes, one plain pointed day hat, and a winter cloak—all of these black—and a pair of protective gloves. All tagged." She pointed at Morag, who pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. "First year at Hogwarts."

"Ah." She pulled out a stool and had Morag stand on it, then dropped a long black robe over his head and started to pin it up. "I do this once a year, near the start of term. You’re not the only one who’s been here today. A half hour ago I outfitted twins—twin girls, mind you, and alike as night and day. However, there’s always a subtle variation in the measurements. Can't have one wearing the other's robes. Wouldn’t do a bit." She finished with the first robe and dropped another over Morag’s head, then continued speaking. "Miss MacDougal, yes? Daughter of Opaline?"

Miriam nodded. "He’s my cousin."

"Ah, son of the late Geoffrey MacDougal. He was a nice man-- I remember him from when we were in school together. Smart as they come, was Geoffrey. You anything like him?"

Morag nodded.

"You do look like him—you’ve got his eye color, but not his hair. Geoff had thick red hair all over the place. Now you—you take after your mum. Pretty Muggle woman I saw her at the wedding. Yes, Geoff was a close friend of mine. Wish he hadn’t died like that." She finished up the third robe—Morag hadn’t even noticed that she’s finished the second and dropped the third on him—and took them in her hands. "I’ll have these hemmed in the time it takes you to pick out a cloak, hat and gloves. Boys to the left. And Opaline, you need a new set of dress robes, yes?"

Opaline nodded. "Morag, find a good pair of dragon hide or the like for gloves, and your cloak needs silver fastenings. Got that?"

Morag nodded, searching around the store. He settled on one of the simpler black cloaks, a basic nice pointed hat, and a pair of shiny silver-blue gloves just as Miriam came up to the counter. She held a beautiful floaty pale yellow dress robe. (It looked like a normal dress to Morag, only fancier.) She also had picked up a set of ribbons to match. She paid for the robes and got her change. "Thank you," she replied, carrying her packages and Morag carrying his much larger ones.

"Morag! Miriam!" Aunt Opaline and Morag’s mother ran up. Morag’s mother looked a bit calmer. Miriam suspected that Aunt Mave and Mother had been drinking some of Aunt Opaline’s tea with rum. "How goes the shopping?"

"Just got the robes," Miriam said.

"Ah, we’ll go with you the rest of the way."

Morag’s mother grinned. She hadn’t had that much; she was calm but not giggly like when she was sloshed. "What to next?"

"Wands take the longest. Let’s get the books next."

*~*~*

Padma flipped through her books while Parvati tried out wands at Ollivander’s. She already had hers—oak, ten and a half inches, dragon heartstring. This was the last thing to get—they had been to the other shops, for their supplies and uniforms. Before counting out the cost of both their wands, their father had said that they could each have a gift. Parvati had immediately selected a pretty set of quills and pink ink with matching parchment. It was the kind of thing she was into. Padma had passed over the stationery in favor of a novel—Maria and the Griffin of West End. She was now reading silently to herself. She was almost to the part where Maria would learn who her captors were when Parvati walked out. "All done," she said. "Let’s go home."

"I was just getting to a good part," Padma complained, rising to her feet. She stuffed her book in with her things and followed her mother and father up towards the Leaky Cauldron, carrying all her packages she could handle. Her father carried the rest, whatever she and Parvati could not.

"When we get home, start packing your trunks," their mother said as Amar chewed on a Cauldron Cake. She turned to her husband. "Do you know who was here last week? We should have done our shopping then."
"Who?" Parvati piped up.

"Harry Potter," Mother whispered. "With the groundskeeper from Hogwarts. It seems he starts this year.
Madam Jakarta—you remember the Jakartas?"

"Vaguely," Father said. "Weren’t they our neighbors once?"

"Yes. Well, they saw him. Scar and everything."

"Ooo!!" Parvati trilled. "Tell me more, Mother!"

Padma kept out of the conversation, and silently carried her parcels. She didn't fancy gossiping about Harry Potter as if he were some vague figure. She had read a great deal about him in those books that she kept on her shelf--the special ones. She held her packages tightly to her as they traveled by Floo powder—she didn’t want to lose anything. As soon as she tumbled out of the fireplace, she waited for her father and set her packages on the kitchen table before fishing something out of the pantry. As she munched on carrot sticks, Parvati landed in the fireplace and tumbled out. Her things didn’t fall, however. She dumped her packages and bags on the chair and dug out her wand. "Look!" she chirped. "It’s ten and a half inches, yew, with unicorn hair. What’s yours?"

"Same length, only oak with dragon heartstring."

"I wonder if I can do anything yet, like Mother and Father." She probably would have swished it around if their mother hadn’t stepped in the kitchen that minute.

"Parvati! Put your wand away! You know better than to play with that. Go on, put it back in the box." Parvati pouted, but she did as her mother said. "Now do like I told you and go pack. Term is almost upon you. Two weeks and I’ll have to take you to King’s Cross Station and put you on the train. Go on!"
Parvati gathered up her things and sulkily carried her things to their room. Padma was right behind. She opened up the steamer truck that their parents had purchased for them a few months back. She cleaned out all the dust and other things, then started to lay her things in. First was her black robes—all but one, she would have to change on the train. She also left her hat out, just in case. She did pack her cloak, gloves, school books and cauldron. She put her potions equipment and supplies in the cauldron so they would be protected during shipping. She then neatly placed her parchment, quills, ink bottles, and other little things she knew she would need. She had enough room to add some extra things, so she pulled her favorite books from the shelves. She also added her journal and some of her "Famous Wizards" cards-- she had been been collecting the Chocolate Frogs cards since she was little and kept them in a nice wooden box. Parvati had collected them once, but she tired of them and gave all hers to Padma last year. (A lot of them had been sticky and smeared with chocolate, but that was Parvati for you. Padma had always been the neater twin.) She finished and plopped on her bed with her novel, when she heard Parvati complaining.

"Oh, I can’t get everything in here!" She tried to stuff in A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and huffed.

Padma groaned and put her novel down. "Hold on, Parvati. I’ll help you pack."

"Oh, would you, please? I hate folding and making everything neat, and you do it so nicely." Parvati grinned broadly at her sister.

"Stop with the buttering up. I said I would do it."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," Padma snorted, pulling everything out of her sister’s trunk.

*~*~*

Antigone grinned brightly as her and Carolina stood inside Eeylops. This auburn haired girl with dark eyes had been nice and charming since they had met outside the café. She’d also stayed with her while they went to Flourish and Blotts, and together they’d found their books and parchment and quills. They’d chatted while Madam Malkin had adjusted their robes, giggled at the beetle eyes and other supplies in the apothecary, and watched as they each tried out wands and finally both received theirs (Carolina’s was ebony and phoenix, Antigone’s was holly and unicorn). At the moment, Esmerelda, her mother and Carolina’s father were outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, keeping an eye on their packages while each enjoyed a charmed low fat milkshake. Esmerelda had assisted the Muggle families with their purchases, and they had obtained all the essentials. They each had some money left over and so they decided to get pets. Esmerelda had told them that as long as they didn’t wander too far, they could explore by themselves. They had wandered, looking at everything there was to see, then headed to Eeylops.

"Ooo!" cooed Antigone, as she looked at the pretty brown owl that Carolina had picked out from Eeylops Owl Emporium. "That’s such a beautiful owl!"

"Yah." Carolina laid her ten galleons on the counter and watched as the clerk gently placed the owl in a pretty silver cage. "The clerk said she was a girl. What should I name her?"

"How about…" Antigone thought for a moment. "Nike—wasn’t she the Greek goddess of victory?"

"I like the sound of that," Carolina grinned, "Nike it is, then! Are you getting an owl?"

"I dunno…" Antigone chewed on her bottom lip. "I do have enough, but I really want one of those adorable kittens they had at the Magical Menagerie."

"Well, get a kitten then."

"But owls are so useful, you heard Esmerelda. They take your mail and everything."

"The school has owls. You can use a school owl."

"But school owls are used by everyone…"

"Tell you what. Whenever you need to send a letter, I'll let you use Nike even if we're Sorted into different Houses. Fair enough?"

"Okay."

Once Carolina had Nike (and a book on owl care), they walked over to the Magical Menagerie. Antigone rushed over to the basket and started to examine the mewling kittens in the basket near the counter. "This one!" she crooned, picking up what looked like a puffy black ball. "Can I have this one?"

"You can have whichever one you want, so long as you pay for it." the witch behind the counter said, checking on a basket with large mustard colored puffs in it. "That one’s a tomcat."

"How much are they?"

"Three Galleons each."

"Oh." Antigone looked crestfallen. "I only have two."

"Here." Carolina dug out a Galleon and pressed it into Antigone’s hand. "Get your kitty."

Antigone blushed. "I can’t accept money from you."

"Sure you can. You’re my friend." Carolina smiled.

Antigone looked at Carolina. "Thank you," she replied. She dropped the money on the counter and watched as the witch placed the black puff in a small carrying cage and scooped the money off the counter. Then she handed Antigone the cage and they left.

"Thanks a lot, Carolina!" Antigone hugged Carolina tightly.

"No trouble, no trouble at all."

Antigone practically bounced as she went to show her mother. "Mummy, mummy, look what I got! A little boy kitty!"

Her mother looked in the cage. "It’s a kitten! Oh, how precious! What will you call him?"

"How about Shadow?"

"Shadow is good."

Esmerelda stuck a finger and watched as he batted at it. "Feisty little one!" She smiled. "Is that it?"
Antigone and Carolina nodded. "Well, then back to the street." She rose to her feet. They all gathered their packages and headed back through the wall and then into the Leaky Cauldron. The bartender was cleaning the tables and grinned toothlessly as they stepped outside. The sun was setting as Esmerelda handed their train tickets to their parents.

"Now, remember what I told you about getting onto the platform, Mr. Kipley and Mrs. Moon. Just in case, a group from M.B.W.W.L.O. will be there on duty. I'll be one of them, and I’ll help you. Just look for me, I’ll be in normal clothes and I’ll wave at you. Okay?"

"Okay," Mrs. Moon said. Even with the sun setting, she kept on her sunglasses.

"Remember, the train leaves at eleven o'clock, the first of September. Don’t be late."

"We won’t," Carolina nodded. "Will we, Papa?"

"Nope."

"Well, I have to drive the Moons home," Esmerelda said. She had pulled off her robe inside The Leaky Cauldron, and the Muggles on the street didn’t bother them. (There were a few weird or bemused glances towards Nike, who was asleep in her cage.) "See you the first of September."

"See you then, Antigone!" Carolina chirped as her and her father packed her things into their car and placed Nike in the backseat.

"See you," Antigone said shyly. She climbed into the car with her mother after they packed everything inside the car, and she held Shadow’s case on her lap. They pulled off in a separate direction from the Kipleys, and headed towards Antigone’s aunt’s house.

"Mrs. Moon?" Esmerelda looked at Antigone’s mother. "Will you and Antigone be okay at your sister’s?"

Her mother nodded. "Yes. Her father doesn’t like my sister much. He won’t come over."

"Good. Good. I’ll pick you and Antigone up on the first of September, and we’ll send her off." She placed a hand on Mrs. Moon’s shoulder. "Don’t feel isolated. You’re not the only Muggle parent who’s dealt with things like this to get your child into Hogwarts. It’ll be okay."

Antigone held Shadow’s cage closer to her chest. "Yah. I’ve even got a friend there to be with me, Mummy."
"Good. You should make friends that are like you," Mrs. Moon said, turning to her daughter. "It’s good to make friends."

Antigone nodded. She could see the faint outline of the former black eye around the rim of her mother’s sunglasses.

--Tasha