Riding Acromantulas and Understanding Magical Biology

Trouble Bound

Gathering Information \ Connecting Theory \ Applying Experiences \ Train Wreck \ Disconnect \ Tentatively stepping forward \ Of heart \ And desires

With two long, sharp whistles, the train started moving, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed. I shifted in the compartment's bench, scratching Sirius like Amy was petting her owl. She had given me a lot to think about. It probably went both ways.

Why was her background so different? To the point where she actually got a scar out of it, from nowhere. Despite my parents' change in professions, they were still the same people. There was no Emma in my life that I could identify, no obvious replacement that linked with my own history, but I was still just a girl with a normal life. Amy came from a different, far more colorful background, true. A super-villain's daughter adopted into a family of super-heroes that unmasked themselves? You could write books based on that. Somebody probably already had. It could be that this was how it manifested in this world, powers being replaced by magic, parahumans by wizards. But then, what about the rest of New Wave? Again, I had more questions than answers.

The train's aisles were emptying, people finding compartments for the trip. Only some stragglers still roamed. I figured this was a good time as any.

I cleared my throat, bringing her attention back to me. "Anyway, about all of this…" I gestured to outside the train and back to us, looking like kids. "What do you think?"

Amy let her head drop against the bench behind her and sighed explosively. "I don't know. Nothing makes sense…. How did we get here, and where is 'here' anyway?"

"I don't know either." Those were the same questions I kept plaguing me. "But that doesn't mean we can't figure it out. First, I think we should consolidate our information. Build a timeline of what happened, see if any patterns emerge, if any of us noticed anything the other didn't."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Right. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here? I know we were chasing the Siberian, but then it gets fuzzy. I think we were blown back because I remember flying." Of a sort.

Amy blinked at me. "You don't remember her turning around?"

"No." I didn't and that was worrying.

She licked her lips and I noticed her clenching her right hand tightly. "The last thing I remember is her turning around and jumping at us. Then it's just… a big black ball."

A black ball? But it was interesting. It seemed like the Siberian was responsible for this, though I couldn't tell how. It also looked more and more like the three of us were here because we'd been touching, or at least close together, at the time it happened. Unless we were all missing memories. Still, if proximity counted, maybe Brian was here too. Should I start searching the train for him? Considering how we all were connected one way or another to this magical world, it was likely he'd be on the train too.

No. There was a chance he wasn't, and there was no way for me to identify him as I had Amy, which had been by pure chance. I restrained myself. I could look for him later.

"We'll think about that later. For now, let's stick with the facts." Brian might not be in this world at all. "I woke up the twenty-third of June. I'm living with... a version parents. Mostly they're the same but some things changed."

"Like living in the U.K., twenty years ago?"

And a few other things, but Amy didn't need to know about that. "Basically. Then I got told I had magic by a Professor McGonagall and invited to Hogwarts. A couple of days later we went shopping for school supplies at Diagon Alley and I met Sirius." I reached forward and scratched him behind his ears. "Apparently, he'd been found abandoned in the middle of the street. My powers returned after I got my wand and that was it. After that, nothing happened of note. I spent a whole month pretending I was eleven again."

Amy frowned, playing with her fingers. "Yeah. That's about the same thing as me. I woke up at my aunt's, apparently, Hagrid told me I had magic and then nothing during the whole of August. I think I woke up the same day, but I wasn't really keeping count." She looked up at me. "Your powers came back when you bought your wand?"

"Yes." I let a large spider fall from the ceiling and on to my hand. "Wasn't it the same for you?"

"Yeah, but…" She quieted and thought for a while. "But I accessed them for a little while before getting my wand."

"Really? How?"

She shook her head. "I think I did some accidental magic and for a couple of seconds they were back, but then they just faded out."

I remembered trying out wands at Ollivander's. "Maybe our powers are somehow connected to this magic?" I proposed. "And a wand is something like a key that unlocks them?"

"A conduit? Some-" Amy started, but I interrupted her by raising a finger to my lips, signaling for silence. "What?" She whispered.

"There's a kid looking for a compartment right next to us. Let's wait until he passes."

She nodded and sat back. It was just a kid, but we didn't want anybody to overhear us. Even supposing this place acted more or less like the real world, with magic and all of that, we should keep our powers and origin, as it was, secret. At best, we would be labelled crazy. At worst, who knew.

The kid, probably a first year too, actually came to our compartment. He opened the door and peeked in, revealing another fiery red-head full of freckles. "Sorry. Do you…" The words died in his mouth and his face paled rapidly, his hands shaking as he looked at us. No, at me. "Nevermind." And he slammed the door and ran off, collapsing against the wall at the end of the carriage.

I looked down at my hand, observing the orb weaver on my palm. Yes, it was big for their usual size, I had been breeding them for it after all. But it wasn't that scary.

Amy sniggered. "Your reputation precedes you."

I groaned.

"Anyway, moving on," I deadpanned. Amy was still smiling. "It looks like the Siberian was probably responsible for this, or at least partially. I think we can safely say that whatever she did knocked us out." Previously forgotten, the sensation of flying, falling, came to my mind. "And then we woke up in younger bodies, our lives transplanted into 1991 England of a world like Aleph, except magic exists, hidden from the normal populace."

"Yeah. That kind of sums up the major points." Amy sighed. Her altered history was the one thing that really jumped out as being out of place. Otherwise, we had been seamlessly introduced into this world.

"The way I see it, there are basically two options. Either this is all real" I gestured to our surroundings, "and we're in another world. Or it's fake."

"Fake? Like a dream? A mass hallucination?" Questioned Amy.

"An illusion." I specified, returning to my initial theory. Despite everything, it still seemed like the most likely to me. It also implied that I was asleep somewhere, probably captured, at the complete and total mercy of whoever had done this to me. The Nine. Someone else. I couldn't really trust my memories in this situation. Or everything that had happened up to now was my senses being tricked, and I was really sitting somewhere, thinking I was in a train bound for a magical boarding school.

"No. It feels too real," said Amy. "If this was an illusion, shouldn't there be some flaws? And why all of this… magic stuff? If this illusion is that realistic, why bother with all of this urban fantasy bullshit instead of just making us think we had never left our world? Plus, how do you explain us both being here?"

She brought up a few good points, but I had already thought about them myself. "Well, for one, I'm sure it's possible for an illusion power to affect several people at once. And an illusion could trick our senses, or even our mind into believing this was real. As for the magic, it could be a requirement of the power, some of them get strange like that." Genesis, for example, had a limited time to build the form she wanted and hers was a fairly good example of a power that came from the imagination. Labyrinth too, came to mind, and she didn't seem to have a proper control over her powers when I saw her. "The other option implies that not only did we jump dimensions, but that our current lives were also carefully constructed to fit this world and our powers temporarily suppressed. All of that effort for apparently no reason at all. If somebody wanted us out of the way, why not just dump us here and be done with it?" I turned her argument against her.

"Well, it could be a power that moved or switched us with our dimensional alternates," Amy pointed out. "Professor Haywire himself supposedly existed in several dimensions at once."

That was something I hadn't known. How much more did Amy know about parahumans and capes in general, as part of New Wave? "It would mean that magic is real, though."

"It could be another form of parahuman powers. A prototype, or something like that. It's not because Myrddin says he has magic that he actually has magic," she countered.

We were getting nowhere and I told her so. The passage of a student in the aisle by our compartment provided a brief lull and allowed me to collect my thoughts. Facts were, if this was really an illusion, I had no certainty that Sirius and Amy weren't fake either, constructs of a puppet master's mind. Or my own. Was this how it felt to be inside the matrix? "In the end, we're arguing semantics. We don't really have a way to know for sure." Amy nodded. "Still, we've established the most likely options as to what happened. We're missing the why… and the solution to all of this."

"Does the why even matter? We're stuck here."

"It does. Let's assume this is an illusion. If our capturers have even the slightest control over what happens in here, knowing their intentions is crucial." And considering who our captors were most likely to be…

I saw the realization dawn on Amy's face as she paled. "You think they're waiting for our guard to lower so they can spring something?"

"Maybe. Maybe not and our paranoia will screw us over. Maybe it's both."

"Shit!" She cursed. "It's like… like with the Simurgh." Yes, it was, and we were in the same situation as the people stuck in the quarantines. Helpless. We contemplated this in silence for a minute. I could almost see the gears grinding inside Amy's head, her eyes boring holes into her lap. "What do we do then?"

"We find a way out." I said simply. "If this is an illusion, we'll break it. If it's another world, we'll return to our own."

"You're pretty confident."

"There's no other choice."

She averted her eyes. "Right." A pause. "But that doesn't tell me what the plan is."

The plan. My plan left a sour taste in my mouth. I straightened my back, pulling myself to my full seated height. I was at least a head taller than Amy. "Well, the easiest way to test these theories would be to act against this world. Little things don't seem to do anything, but something more drastic might…"

"Except, what if it hurts you on the real world? What if it is real?" Amy completed my reasoning with a sigh. "Yeah, I thought so. We're screwed."

"For now, it's best to just play along." The risks were too great and the chances of success minuscule. This wasn't a wild gamble, a maneuver I knew that if it worked, it would mean victory. We've be operating on blind faith, not even on half-way reasonable assumptions. The worse, in a way, was the illusion of choice. Whenever I had taken great risks before, bet on something without a safety net of any sort, I'd done it out of desperation. The second time I'd faced Lung, Mannequin more recently…. I'd had to do it, otherwise I would die, people would die. Here, there was no such urgent need. Not in a way I could feel. Every choice seemed much more charged, heavy. There was time to doubt. And I couldn't tell if that was a bad thing, or a good one. "We'll pretend to be who they expect us to be and we'll look for a way out on the side. Try to pin-point any flaws in the world, research dimensional travel…"

Amy snorted. "Great. So I just have to go through school again. And puberty."

Not if I had any say on the matter. "We'll be back to Brockton Bay before that becomes an issue. Even if highschool is hell."

"Puberty starts now. We'll be having our first period, again, by the end of the year." She pointed at me reproachfully and continued. "And middleschool is hell. Highschool is just pathetic."

I blinked, surprised and a bit offended. My middleschool years had been marred by my mother's death, true, but it was in later that the bullying had happened. Maybe Amy had had some bad experiences in middleschool, but I'd had the trio in highschool. "Right. In the meanwhile, we should stop talking about this. There are three kids coming our way and they seem to be looking for something. They're stopping at every compartment."

Amy formerly-Dallon, now-Potter touched her forehead reflexively and sighed deeply. "Wonderful."

The compartment's door opened to let in three boys of our apparent age. Unlike us, all three wore robes, like most other wizards I'd met so far.

At the head of their little trio was a very pale, blond boy. He was going to grow up like me, all thin and spindly, his chin pointy and face narrow, but he held himself with easy arrogance, leaving no doubt that he was the leader. The other two flanked him like bodyguards, half a step behind, and were both well-built for their age. In time, I could easily see them as linebackers. To complete the jock look, they didn't strike me as the brightest lights in the harbour.

The setup was familiar. Were they looking for trouble?

The one in charge of their little band immediately took notice of Sirius and made a little sound, before his eyes darted to look between me and Amy, immediately jumping to the scar on Amy's forehead. "So it's true," he said. "They were saying that Amy Potter was in this compartment. Let me introduce myself. My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He stood straighter, drawing his right arm across his chest like the salutes some gangs did. No, he dipped his chin in a quick movement and I recognized it as the vainest, least deferential bow I'd ever seen.

Amy smiled wrily, her thoughts obviously along the same wavelength as mine. "Amy Potter." There was a very well disguised hint of scorn in her tone. Like you didn't know that already, it seemed to say. She shot a glance at me in a silent cue.

"Taylor Granger." I spoke up, drawing the attention of the boys, who had seemingly already forgotten I existed. In fact, Draco seemed outright astonished, like I had somehow butted into a private conversation.

"Granger?" He drawled to himself. "I don't recognize that name. Your parents, they're of our sort, right? Or at least, one of them?" I couldn't tell if he was being condescending or actually concerned. Not by his tone. I had his sort pegged down myself.

Honestly, I hadn't expected to deal with prejudice this soon. Oh, I'd read between the lines of my history book. Not that there weren't parts of history explicit enough on the anti-muggle sentiments and witch-hunts. Grindelwald and much more recently this Voldemort were just another example proving that bigots would always exist and gather together to perform atrocities, even in magical urban fantasies. Amy's earlier words about Empire 88 knockoffs rang in my ears. This kid wasn't quite the typical young gang recruit, with his quality silver-embroidered robes and aristocratic airs, but he fit right in my mental image of what Kaiser's son would look like.

I looked him in the eyes and answered. "No. I'm a muggleborn."

Draco scowled briefly, raising his chin to look down on me, disgust and smugness on his face. His two companions shared a look themselves, one of them even sniggering. Then the blond addressed Amy again, purposefully talking like I wasn't there. "She" The affected inflexion on the pronoun was clear as day. "wouldn't happen to be your... friend, would she?"

"No." Amy answered plainly. "Merely acquaintances."

It was nothing less than the truth. I wasn't surprised Amy didn't consider me a friend. I wouldn't call her my friend either. Still, hadn't we just agreed to keep our heads down and stick together to find a way home?

Draco was clearly pleased. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "You should leave. I'd like to have a conversation with Amy Potter that's not for your ears." The two brutes behind him straightened their spines and crossed their arms, emphasizing the implied physical threat.

Even without my bugs, I could dispatch them with relative ease. Assuming they were normal kids, they didn't have any martial arts training I could see and it was too cramped in here for them to make use of their bigger weight. And then, I had Sirius on my side, who already had his hackles raised, even if he wasn't growling yet.

It was like a pair of children were trying to intimidate me. In fact, that was exactly what it was.

"Just because we're not friends doesn't mean we don't have an understanding," Amy interjected. "Malfoy, right? I don't mind Taylor."

Amy's careless, nonchalant tone made Draco flush, almost luminescently on his pale skin. Still, he rallied himself. "Well, it's a private matter!"

Amy made a noise and slightly furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure if I'm interested in what have to say, if it's such a private matter."

The boy shot me a glare as he recognized that Amy wouldn't listen to him if he continued to try to get me to leave. Instead of giving up or pressing the point, he decided to ignore my presence completely. "I came to offer my help."

"Oh, really?" Amy leaned forward, the interest in her tone subtly mocking. I chose to sit back for now and see how she handled it.

"Yes." Draco nodded and launched into a rehearsed speech. "You're Amy Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived. You're famous. There are going to be all sorts of people coming to you, trying to get into your good graces and use you, like they do with my father. And some kind of wizards and witches you shouldn't associate with." Like me, it seemed. "But there are also good, upstanding wizarding families. It'd benefit you to know the right people, who can be trusted, and I can help you with that. I know people."

"Wow, thanks!" Amy smiled too brightly. "So, let me see if I got this right. You're saying I should be careful with a certain type of people?"

"That's right."

"Namely, people I don't know who randomly approach me just because of who I am."

"Yes."

"Then try to get into my social circle." Draco nodded hesitantly sensing, like I did, that the conversation was slipping from his grasp. "And try to mold my opinions and chose who should be my friend. Or offer me help that I don't need…" Her smile dropped from her face. "For someone who came here to warn me, you're checking pretty much all the boxes on the list of people who I shouldn't associate with, Malfoy." She dragged his name.

A rosy blush crept onto the blond's cheeks but still, he persisted. "I'm not like that… that rabble. Trust me Potter, I just-"

"Want to use me to get ahead of your little social group." Amy finished for him.

"What? No!"

"Oh, so you want to ride my coattails to fame and glory then." Draco sputtered denials, eyes wide in outrage, and Amy clucked her tongue derisively. "Well, I suppose I have an empty spot for a sycophant."

Draco finally managed to recover some mental ground and stomped his foot down, startling Sirius. I wove a hand into his raised fur and continued to watch the byplay. I found myself smiling at the way she was turning the tables on the little racist. "Are you mocking me, Potter!?"

"Yep." Popping the 'p', Amy leaned back in her seat. "I'm pretty sure bootlicking is considered part of ingratiating yourself with your betters, so you still make the list of people I shouldn't associate with. And I don't want an ass-kisser following me around."

The blond had gone completely red, knuckles white with the force he was clenching his fists at his side. His two followers, until now helplessly watching their leader being verbally beaten around, loomed behind him menacingly. He sneered viciously. "Looks like you want to follow your parents' footsteps. They got on the bad side of the wrong people too, and they're dead."

Amy very deliberately raised one eyebrow at him and smirked. "Sure."

The dismissal was the final straw. With a roar, Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Amy. Crabbe and Goyle went for their own, seconds behind him. I was already getting up and drawing my own wand, releasing Sirius. Amy herself reacted lightning quick, grasping his wrist and shoving it to the side in what I recognized as the beginning of a self-defense technique against knives and guns. Not that she needed to finalize it. But Draco and his companions didn't know that, and what stopped them in their tracks was Sirius. The big labrador was huge from a kid's perspective, but he was the least dangerous thing they faced. His growling filled the compartment, masking the buzzing my insects were making, hidden around us. Amy had skin contact and so Draco was at her mercy.

Hand caught in Amy's grip, the blond quickly assessed the situation around him. I could see him visibly deflate at the sight of Sirius' bared teeth and my wand pressing against the temple of one of his friends.

"What's going on here?!"

Another freckled red-head stood on the compartment's threshold, livid. He had to be related to the last three gingers. The family resemblance was too strong. But this one had glasses and held himself with the pompous self-importance and puffed out chest of a teenager recently given some authority. The shiny badge on his wizard dress just made it obvious.

I knew what to do.

Quickly, but without forcing it, I let go of Malfoy's wrist and glanced meaningfully at Skitter. Hoping she would follow my lead, I spoke up, meeting the older guy's eyes. "Malfoy attacked us. He was harassing us." Belatedly, I hoped he was not on this weasel's side.

Ginger switched his attention to Blondie. "Is this true?" In the background, Skitter, Taylor, had lowered her wand, though she kept it ready, and calmed down her dog, a hand on the scruff of his neck. The silence actually sounded that much louder without the rumbling from the dog.

Malfoy still looked angry at me, but even he had enough brains not to continue the fight in front of an older student. "It was just… a misunderstanding." Not very convincing, but I supposed not every blond could be Victoria, eleven or not.

"Oh, I understand what happened alright, Malfoy." I couldn't help a brief smile. Looked like Malfoy did know some people after all. "You're lucky you aren't at Hogwarts yet, but I will be having words with Professor Snape about this." He turned on the two gorillas that followed Malfoy around. "I will be speaking with your heads of house too. Now get back to your own compartment."

"Whatever, Weasly." Malfoy spat, disdain dripping from every word, and shouldered past him and into the aisle. "Let's go." He barked at his bodyguards.

The tension slowly drained away as the trio got further away from us, and with it all the anger that had fueled me. I collapsed bonelessly on my seat, feeling like I'd run a marathon. Had that been worth it? Draco Malfoy was going to be a pain in the ass for the rest of the year, and that was without counting all the trouble his supposed connections could make.

I snorted. Yeah, totally worth it.

Taylor sat down herself, putting away her wand away in her jacket and petting the dog for a job well done. It was so strange to see her like this.

The teen that had helped us out cleared his throat. "Very well, glad to see that's solved. Fighting is not tolerated at Hogwarts, so make sure this won't happen again. If there's trouble come to a Prefect or a Professor." We both gave obligatory nods of agreement. So this guy was a prefect then. Actually, looking at his badge, it seemed kind of obvious. It made sense that they would appoint a straight-laced honours student type to the position. But Hogwarts was a british boarding school. In the nineties. I was pretty sure that things behind the scenes would be quite different. "Now," he turned to Taylor, "I'd like to have a word with you."

Wait, what had Skitter done while I wasn't looking?

"Is something the matter?" The dark-haired girl looked perfectly composed as she spoke, calm and politely confused.

"Your animal." He gave the dog a side-glance brimming with displeasure. "Hogwarts only allows owls, cats and toads. Dogs are not permitted."

Seriously!? What was he expecting her to do? Throw the dog offboard? Ship him back?

But she riposted quickly, speaking over whatever next nitpicking he had prepared. "I have permission from Professor McGonagall about Sirius. Arrangements were made. He'll be staying with the groundskeeper, not at the castle itself."

"Hmph." He huffed. "I will verify that. For now, just make sure he doesn't disturb anybody." The prefect closed the door behind him, leaving us in silence.

I watched Taylor and after a few seconds, time enough for him to get out of hearing range, she finally let her shoulders slump. Should I say anything? Ginger Weasel sure has a wand up his ass, something like that? I didn't usually mind the silence, but this one didn't exactly feel comfortable. Probably something to do with who I was sharing it.

She took the choice out of my hands, straightening up and staring me in the eyes. "What was that all about?"

Oh, she was not going to lecture me on this. Not her. And not now. "Told you. Middleschool is hell." I shrugged.

"I thought the plan was to not make waves. Blend in and keep our heads down." She insisted.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed or anything, but I'm the latest national hero. The Girl Who Fucking Lived, etcetera? Just… Urgh." I didn't even have enough steam to snark at Skitter. I sighed and reached up to massage my temples. "Look, low profile is just not in the options. Trust me, I tried but even if I don't do anything people will come looking for me."

She crossed her arms, but still had to get the last word in. "You still didn't have to handle the situation like that."

I could help but scoff. "Yes I did. What? You think he'd just leave? He's a bully. He wouldn't stop because I said: thank you but no, please leave me alone. He'd just get worse."

"You were provoking him!" She hissed.

"As opposed to what? Ignoring him?" I felt my temper rise up again, twice already in quick succession. "Newsflash: that doesn't work! I might as well be giving them carte blanche. The only way to make bullies back off is to fight back."

Taylor eyed me disbelievingly. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she clenched her jaw and stared out of the window. I copied her. It was a nice view. We stayed like that for a few minutes. Ignoring each other's presence.

Finally she spoke, getting up from her seat. "I'm going to explore the train, see if there's anything interesting. Sirius, guard."

I nodded.

Whatever. Good riddance.

I already knew where everything was on the train. I had it bugged. I knew its layout, where the passengers were, what they were doing. I had no need to explore the train. But I needed to get out of that compartment and put some distance between us.

Panacea didn't know anything. And I...

I was not trying to map both the train and its outside, closing my perception to the invertebrates there. I'd already figured out that there was some sort of spatial warping in this train. I was sure it was bigger on the inside, and that carriages had been added somewhen along the line. It wasn't anything like what I'd felt Vista doing. I could feel and understand what Vista did with space, pieces of distance slotting together inside my head to form a coherent whole. Here, it was like things were in two places at once, or moving in relative directions that made no sense. I couldn't map it in my head. Just trying to do it made me dizzy, nauseous, like how I imagined feeling seasick would be like. And then the headache started. Actually, it felt remarkably similar to what Amy had done to me at the bank.

Amy... at the bank… The bank job had been what had really started my criminal career. The job that had delivered Dinah into Coil's dirty hands. Despite all that, the only thing that I could think about that job now was that the next day, I had stood up to Emma and won. Effortlessly, just like how Amy had just beaten Draco. That made me angry. I knew my anger was baseless, but that did not make me any less mad. But having less bugs on-hand kept me, somehow, less busy mentally, and the strain of holding back the full range of my powers only compounded my irritation.

I hadn't put mental walls up like this since Winslow. Then, I'd close off the buzzing, afraid of what would happen if I slipped. I hadn't even tagged people to get an idea of where they were. I just pretended I didn't have powers, turning them off the best I could. I had to protect my identity, I had to hide. I had to make sure my control didn't clip when they surrounded me. When they bullied me. Now I was going back to school after months of absence and those habits, those attitudes, that position, they all came rushing back. It wasn't the same, I knew. I wasn't going back to Winslow, there was no trio waiting for me, I restricted my powers by true necessity... But damn if it didn't feel like it.

I refrained from punching the wall, taking deep breaths to calm down. I'd let it get to me. Draco, Amy, what Amy had said... I wasn't going back to Winslow. I had no idea where the train was headed, but it wasn't there. And even if it was, I refused to go through that again.

That determination crystallized, sharpening my focus. I had to think about all of this rationally. Unbiasedly. I was going to Hogwarts, a boarding school that taught magic. Effectively, a school for parahumans of some sort. There would be bullies, inevitably. Every school had those, regardless of any discouragements. I supposed that the only difference between Winslow and Arcadia was that the better school had an administration that actually cared and acted. From what I'd seen, Hogwarts was more like Arcadia. That was good. There would still be racists like Draco though and, this time, I was a target. Could I handle that? I had much more going for me here than I'd ever had at Winslow. Aside from what I could do, I had Amy on my side on this issue. Her reputation and the prefects and teachers that cared about the rules would be more help than any I had received at Winslow. What kind of power would they need, Draco and any other enemies I find, that would allow them to attack me without repercussions?

I wasn't sure, but I knew who I could ask.

I had tagged Cedric before he actually got onto the train, when we'd both been on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. I quickly located his bug again and took off to a carriage further back on the train. His compartment was full, another four with him, three boys and a girl. They were playing board games. One looked like chess but the other I couldn't identify. Maybe it was a wizard game. It involved stones.

I hesitated at the door. I could barely hear them on the other side, talking, friends. I'd never been good at social interaction. The prospect of knocking and interrupting their conversation, becoming the center of attention, made me more nervous than any of the times I'd had to talk to large numbers of people while I was taking care of my territory. But then I'd been Skitter, not Taylor, and I had my mask, my swarm-voice, and people respected that. Respected me, unlike here. Maybe I could borrow Cedric for a while, play the shy younger kid with a problem? It wouldn't be that far off from the truth.

I must have stood too long outside the compartment because Cedric's voice called out to me. "Hello, is something wrong? Want to come in? It's crowded in here though."

"No. It's fine." I almost didn't remember to use my British accent after talking with Amy for so long. Why she wasn't even trying to disguise her obvious American accent I didn't know, but it was another thing I'd have to insist on with her. I opened the door a little, peeked in. "Hi."

"Taylor!" Cedric beamed. "Come on in. Everybody, this is Taylor," he hesitated, then added sheepishly, "whose last name I actually don't remember anymore, sorry. We met at Diagon Alley. She's starting Hogwarts this year." An incomprehensible chorus of various greetings and questions followed his proclamation. Cedric winced and mouthed an apology to me.

I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile and cleared my throat. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Taylor Granger." I did put a little emphasis on my new last name.

"You already know me," started Cedric, "but this chap here is Roger Davies, Ravenclaw." A guy his age, brown hair topping a chubby face, waved at me. I noticed he had a pretty good arm definition with the t-shirt he was wearing. He sat on the other side of the chessboard, playing against Cedric himself. "That's Duncan Inglebee, also Ravenclaw, and Tamsin Applebee who's in Hufflepuff with me." He indicated the players of the other game, with stones. Tamsin was a short brunette with a thick accent but a friendly visage, while Duncan was a very tall, well-built dark-skinned boy that just gave me a quiet hello. "And brooding in the corner is Kenneth Towler. He's from Gryffindor." He pointed the last person in the compartment, who had been peacefully reading a book nestled against Tamsin.

"And the only person here that isn't a Quidditch fanatic." The Gryffindor commented offhandedly, setting his book down on his knees and adjusting his glasses.

The five were looking at me patiently. Waiting for me to say whatever I had to say and leave. Of course it was like that. To me, they were the younger ones, but I was just a kid to them. Younger, from a different culture and ignorant of the happenings and dynamics of Hogwarts. An outsider, in too many senses. I found myself unable to speak. If I opened my mouth...

"So, have you decided which house you want to be in yet?" Roger jumped in.

I was grateful for the starting point despite myself. "Not really. They all seem to have their good points. Maybe Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?" Those seemed like the safe choices.

"I hope you're a Hufflepuff," said Tamsin, bouncing up and down in her seat, smiling. "You're always welcome with us badgers, okay?"

"She looks more like a Ravenclaw, though." Roger countered and turned to me. "You look smart."

Kenneth snickered. "You only say that because she wears glasses, Davies. She could always be a Gryffindor, brave and stuff!"

"You mean the house that was last place last year?" Roger raised a finger, as if in warning. "Don't be a Gryffindor."

"Well," I chanced to poke at the big secret, "that would be easier if I had a clue to how I'm going to be sorted."

The group shared a conspiratory look, smiles. Tamsin giggled.

They probably weren't laughing at me. I knew it wasn't like that. It was just an inside joke, and everybody who hadn't been sorted yet, however that happened, couldn't get it. Or was the punchline. They didn't mean to hurt me, I knew that, intellectually. But it still felt that way. They couldn't have any idea of how much I hated this. Being laughed at. I was tired, done for with the feeling of humiliation that filled me now. I'd been the punchline far too many times already. This had been a mistake. I was an idiot sometimes.

"Right. Big secret." That just sounded bad. I needed to get out. I wasn't in the right state to handle this. I remembered Amy's words again. "I…. I have to go back to my place." And I turned on my heel and walked away.

I should have just keep quiet. Stuck to the plan and kept my head down. But I'd just gone and made it all worse, trying to chat up people subjectively older than me and make friends after letting a comment about bullies rile me up. It sounded so desperate and had all the hallmarks of bad planning. Cedric probably thought I was a weirdo. Well, he wouldn't be that wrong. I couldn't even keep up a normal conversation with kids younger than me for more than five minutes. It didn't really matter anyway. I was aiming at leaving this place as soon as I could. I didn't need to make friends. But if rumours started spreading, it would cause a chain reaction, and I had no intention of being the weird kid everybody knew about in a goddamn boarding school. Of course, I'd just given people the ammunition to do just that.

I felt Cedric get up, heard him call after me. Asking me to wait, apologizing. He didn't sound angry. But I could still outrun him if I wanted to.

I didn't need friends.

I wanted them though.

Fuck, I hoped this wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass. I stopped walking away, and waited.

When he caught up to me, Cedric paused and waited for me to make the first move. I appreciated that. It gave me time. I took a deep breath, mentally running through the paths this conversation could take. Then another to center myself. Only after that did I turn to face him.

"Are you... alright?" He asked, concern marking his voice. But he kept enough distance that I didn't feel stifled. A bit like my Dad.

I nodded.

"I'm sorry. The Sorting, it's nothing bad, really. It's just tradition to keep it secret from first years..." He fidgeted in place, looking incredibly awkward.

"It's okay," I interrupted him and gaining control over the conversation. "I know. I'm sorry too, I overreacted." I needed a better excuse than that. "It's just… I bumped into someone that really put me on edge, so when your friend Tamsin laughed…"

"We weren't laughing at you!" He sounded horrified.

"Yeah, I get that." I raised a hand to reassure him. "But after that encounter…"

"Must have been one hell of an encounter." He smiled tentatively.

I took the opening. "Actually, that was what I came to talk to you about."

"Tell me. If I can do anything to help..." Cedric offered immediately. It was nice.

"Thank you." I let a small smile through, then composed myself. "It was a boy, first year like me, named Draco Malfoy. He implied he was well-connected. Do you know him?"

Cedric nodded. "I know of him, but I can't recall ever meeting him personally. The Malfoys are pretty well-known, they're an old family. Very conservative and, uh, rich. Very deep pockets. I think they might have a Wizengamot seat?"

It was the Supreme Mugwump debacle all over again. "Sorry, but what's the Wizengamot?"

"Hum, actually I'm not sure how it translates to Muggle Politics. You'll learn about it in History of Magic but it's a body that dates back from before the Ministry was established. Basically their members vote on laws to be passed, and preside on important trials."

That was good to know. I'd have to take a look at this place's laws and governing structure. I barely knew how the United Kingdom's government worked in my own world, let alone in a magical version of it. "I see. Thanks. So I assume having a seat on that is a big deal?"

"Well, yes. The Malfoys are pretty important, my father talks about Mr. Malfoy quite a lot. I understand he's very close to Fudge, sorry, the Minister for Magic, and that he also has a lot of power in the Ministry." I closed my eyes and managed not to groan. Just great. A repeat of Emma and her lawyer father. It must have still been pretty obvious because Cedric asked, hesitantly, "did Malfoy… do anything wrong?"

"Nothing really overt." I huffed. "When he found out I was a muggleborn…"

Cedric grimaced. "Oh." The little interjection explained everything.

"Yeah. He just insulted me, mostly. Looking down on me, ignoring me on purpose… but then he wanted me to leave my compartment and he picked a fight." I continued before Cedric could express the worry on his face. "It was okay, there was a prefect nearby."

The teen sighed. "Merlin, I'm so sorry about that. I swear..."

"Not your fault." I cut him off. "I knew there was going to be some prejudice and, well, muggles aren't exactly paragons of virtue on that front either."

"Still…." He gesticulated helplessly, then gave up. "I promise you, the majority of wizards aren't like Malfoy." After a brief moment, he added. "You should know though, Slytherins have a certain... reputation. And it's people like Malfoy that give it to them."

Ah, great. Just a quarter of the school. "So, avoid them?"

Cedric shifted, crossed his arms. "I don't like to make assumptions of people without meeting them first, or taking wizard for his wand, but... for the most part? Probably. I bet Malfoy's going to get sorted there too."

I remembered how he had immediately asked if Draco had done anything wrong. "Do the Malfoys also have a reputation?"

Cedric looked uncomfortable as he spoke. "Err... Well, there's a saying; you'll never find a Malfoy at a crime scene, but his fingerprints will be all over the guilty wand. And..." He lowered his voice. "Have you heard about the war yet? The one ten years ago?" He continued when I confirmed it. "Well, the Malfoys were one of the families that were on You-Know-Who's side during the war. They said they'd been betwitched, but there're rumours that's not true."

Well, this was sounding more interesting. And dangerous. I replied in the same low tone. "Based on that bit of popular wisdom, I assume it couldn't be proved whether or not they really were being controlled."

"I don't know. It happened when I was a really small kid. But I think that with those kind of dark spells and curses, there isn't really a way to know…. Whenever people speak about that time..." He paused thoughtfully. "It's about not knowing whether or not you could trust anybody. About the fear. That you'd be next, a target, and never know it. It sounds terrifying."

Masters, especially those that could control humans, were scary. For example, capes like Heartbreaker were more terrifying and infamous than capes like Nilbog were amongst the general population, because they messed with such a primal part of our psyche. I worked with Regent myself and even I couldn't honestly say he didn't scare me on some levels. The scariest and most infamous of all Masters was her, of course. The Simurgh. A Master-effect that couldn't be proved... it sounded just like her. And for someone like Voldemort, from what I was gathering, it was common sense to use that power extensively in order to create terror. Any person you crossed on the street could be a ticking time-bomb. It explained better what the war must have been like, why people were still afraid of the name Voldemort. It was all about the uncertainty, about living in fear. I knew something about that.

After a couple of moments spent digesting that, I told Cedric normally, "Well, thanks about the information. It helps really."

"It was nothing. And I'm sorry that the topic of conversation couldn't be something lighter. Do you want to come back to our compartment? I'll explain what happened and then we can play some chess. Wizarding chess even."

"Wizarding chess, how's that different from normal chess?" I asked, smiling.

"There's absolutely no difference! But the pieces move by themselves, so it's more convenient. And they can give advice too." He leaned in to whisper, "I wouldn't listen to it though, and they can whine too, if you lose."

The image of a tiny pawn railing against a player that had gotten it captured again made me chuckle. "Thanks, but I think I should get back to my friend, now. Also, there's him." I indicated the boy who had been trying to approach us with my head.

The boy was a first year student like me, most likely. He was small, chubby, with large front teeth that showed sometimes. Probably because he was sniffing, on the verge of tears. He'd been wandering around in this carriage and the one next over, roaming through the corridors. Seeing we had noticed him, he shuffled over. "I'm sorry, but have you seen a toad around?"

I exchanged a look with Cedric, who shook his head. "Can't say we have."

The kid wilted noticeably, like a kicked puppy. "I can't find him…. Maybe he jumped off the train," he whimpered.

"Hey, don't worry. You'll find him, he can't have gone far," reassured Cedric. "Do you want help looking?"

"You don't have to…" The boy said, but it was a token protest.

I turned to Cedric. "Let me handle this. You shouldn't keep your friends hanging, and I'll have to walk a ways to get back to my compartment anyway."

His grey eyes looked between me and the sniffling kid for a moment before he relented. "Okay. I'll see you later?"

"Sure. See you!" I waved him off and turned to the younger boy this time. "Let's go then. My name's Taylor H-Granger."

"I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom." He replied, trotting after me.

I may not have bugs on the outside of the train, but I had them on the inside. Finding Trevor, Neville's toad, was easy. I even fed him a couple of flies. Predictably, he'd been in a bathroom. A loo, as they called it here. The small blond thanked me profusely and went his own way, but I couldn't help thinking Trevor wouldn't take long to escape again.

I returned to my compartment, our compartment, feeling much calmer and in control of myself.

Sirius raised his head as I entered, barked and laid it down again. Amy was laying down on her seat, feet up and back against the window's wall, a magazine on her hands. Seeing me enter, she raised a hand in a half-wave. "Hey."

"Hey." I returned.

A moment passed, me still standing at the door and her still looking at me. "Want a chocolate frog?" Amy finally broke the silence, pointing at a package on the seat near her feet. "It's like a normal chocolate, shaped like a frog. And they also jump around, like frogs. They stop when you catch them, so it isn't like… uh, biting an actual live frog."

I blinked. "Err, no." After my little adventure with Trevor, the prospect honestly made me a little squeamish. Eating bugs was one thing, but live frogs? "But thank you."

"Pumpkin pastry?" She tried again.

"Do those move?"

"No. I think pumpkins are just a wizard thing."

"Then yeah, thanks." I grabbed one, patted Sirius on the way and sat down, taking a small bite. It wasn't bad. I'd probably like it more if I was a fan of pumpkins, but the vegetable had never been something I especially liked. We'd opted out of Thanksgiving pumpkin pie for years. "Look, about before…"

Amy surprised me by interrupting me, sitting up straighter and letting her magazine fall on her lap. What she said surprised me even more. "It's okay. I was being kind of obnoxious. I just…" She pushed her hair behind her ears again. "I just lost my temper with that brat. I shouldn't have, but he reminded me of somebody I knew that I really didn't like and… I don't know, ended up projecting on him."

"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have stormed off like that." Amy shrugged dismissively and a tension eased in my chest. Maybe we could work together after all. "Things have been tense with all of… this, so I needed some time alone to think. Draco deserved it too." I finished with a small smirk then changed the topic, maybe too bluntly. "So, what are you reading? Is that a comic book?"

If Amy noticed how I'd railroaded the conversation out of dangerous waters, she didn't mention it. "Yeah." She showed me the cover, colorful in reds and blues.

I was unamused, and read the title out loud. "Spiderman. Really?"

Amy chuckled. "Ironic, isn't it? I didn't know I'd end up meeting you when I bought it. Maybe I should have taken it as a sign."

"What's it about? I think I've heard the name before, but I don't know the story." Not surprising, seeing how fictional super-hero stories had taken a dive with the parahuman boom. The industry had never really recovered. Plus, this was the nineties. It would have to be something really great to have survived to 2010.

Amy opened the book, flipping back to where she'd left off. "I think it's been an ongoing series in Aleph, so it's normal. Really, it's a bunch of stories, most of the time not even connected, about a hero with spider powers. He's not like you." She expounded at my questioning look, pointing to the fly I had on her large trousers. "He's part spider or something. Shoots webs from his hands, can climb walls, is super strong."

I supposed it fit with what spiders could do, somewhat. "Brute Blaster?"

Amy's expression twisted into what was definitely a smirk. "Thinker too. He's got a danger sense he calls, guess what?" I had no clue. What? "The spidey-sense."

Okay, that was embarrassing to all insect-themed capes out there.

A hand shook my shoulder, an insistent "Amy, Amy wake up," disturbing my rest. I wasn't sleeping, I was just resting my eyes for a bit. It was different, damn it.

"I'm aa..." I tried to stop it, but the yawn ripped itself from me regardless. Traitor. "...wake. I'm awake."

I blinked the cotton webs away. Taylor was standing in front of me, wearing the black robes of the Hogwarts uniform. The window's blind had been lowered and the books she'd taken out of her suitcase were nowhere to be seen. How long had I been out?

"A prefect came by." She said, drawing back. "We're nearing Hogwarts. Put on your uniform and get your things ready. I'll step out for a moment, give you some privacy."

It took me a moment to remember what she was talking about. "Ah, okay." Something inane came to my mind out of nowhere. "Did he tell you about the hat?"

"The hat?" She looked confused for a moment, brows furrowing slightly more, but it cleared up quickly and her expression returned to normal. "Oh yeah, that. She mentioned it. Did you hear her?"

"No. Hagrid told me." I grunted, getting to my feet. My legs felt half-asleep and my neck hurt. It was such a bad habit, falling asleep sitting up. I stretched my arms above my head. "Back in Diagon Alley. Just remembered it now."

Taylor nodded and left, closing the door behind her. I sighed. I'd slept too much and now I was tired. And sore. I rubbed my neck and looked up. The light set in the ceiling had been turned on. I'd honestly thought it was ornamental, since wizards didn't appear to even comprehend the concept of electricity but… ah. I briefly saw it flicker and sway, like a candle. Of course. Fire-powered. How silly of me.

With a bit of struggle, I hauled down my suitcase. A trunk, Hagrid had called it, but it was more like a full blown chest, like those use to travel in the nineteenth century. Wizards seemed to be full of anachronisms like those. Then, I had to dig out my wizard robes. I was familiar with the style but, unlike my uniform, these weren't as large and lacked a hood. It was nostalgic, putting them on. I hadn't worn my uniform, Panacea's uniform in… God knew how long. Leviathan, probably, nearly a couple of months ago. I hadn't bothered with it afterwards. Too much to do, no need for a conspicuously pristine white robe that would only get dirty. Blood, various unpleasant bodily fluids, heck, all the water and mud everywhere.

I threw the black cloak over my shoulders and quickly checked how I looked using the window as a budget mirror. I looked like a kid, the kid I was, but at least the robes fit me. I was wearing the over-sized, worn secondhand clothes the Dursleys provided me with underneath and I adjusted my collar so that the t-shirt wouldn't be visible. If wizards wanted to go around naked under their robes, in bloody freezing Scotland, that was their problem. Me, I liked being warm.

The only part of the uniform that I didn't put on was the pointed hat. For ceremony use only, unless you were a first year student at the Start-of-Term Feast. In which case, no hat. The reason for that particular and awfully specific idiosyncrasy escaped me. Why no hats? Not that I was complaining, the hats were quirky, but honestly I'd prefer a hood. Hagrid had said it was tradition. I supposed that made as much sense as anything here.

I knocked on the door. "Okay, I'm done."

Taylor entered and sat down. "They say we're less than half an hour away from Hogsmeade Station."

I hummed. "Okay, so now what? We wait?"

She shrugged. "What else is there to do?"

My eyes drifted to the jar of multicolored beans I'd pushed into the corner hours ago. "Well…."

"I hate pumpkin!"

"Sorry! Honestly thought that was orange." Taylor shook her head absentmindedly and said something. I couldn't hear her over the din of the crowd on the platform. "What!?"

"I said! Doesn't matter! We'll be eating dinner soon anyway!" She repeated, loudly.

Hundreds of students were pouring out of the train into the small station, dragging their luggage with them. They talked, laughed, cried, and yelled to be heard over the noise. And the first years like us? We were lost in a sea of hysterical teenagers. I'd never really appreciated how small I'd become until then. My height had always been below average, but with the Dursleys' insistence on treating me like a bonsai, keeping me in small spaces and feeding me less than recommended, I was tiny. First years didn't have to take their luggage with them, so we couldn't protect ourselves with that and instead we were being pushed, pulled and squashed between people and suitcases.

Somebody had bumped me, making me trip right into the corner of a hard square case. My ribs were painfully bruised. Night had already fallen and I couldn't see anything but black robes all around, surrounding me. I couldn't even see my own two feet. Maybe it was a good thing we didn't have to remove our bags ourselves. The crowd would swallow us and trample us under their weight. Not to mention, how would I protect Victoria's fragile cage?

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid's voice boomed like thunder, making itself heard by everybody. At that, the crowd finally started to move with a specific direction. And the press of bodies was moving away from Hagrid, the older students going in the opposite direction and dragging us with them. Who had had the bright idea to make the station this small?

A hand grabbed my arm and started pulling me along, back the right way. It was Skitter, tethering me, moving so that I was in front of her and no longer in danger of being dragged away by the human currents. I had to look up, over my shoulder, to see her face. She was about half a foot taller than me. Her eyes were pointing in front, but she wasn't looking through them, certainly not seeing another black robed back. Her bugs?

We made it out of that mess and it was like coming up for air. And it was, because between elbows and Taylor glued to my back, breathing had been hard. This was why I hated crowds. And concerts and night clubs. Without Victoria they were sweaty mess and with her...

"Amy?" I snapped my head back. Taylor was a couple of steps ahead, looking expectantly at me.

"Yeah, yeah. Just bruised." I waved her off. "Usually, my sister does crowd control."

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips, and we joined Hagrid and the dozen kids huddled around him. The giant greeted me overenthusiastically, nearly making me collapse when he rested, read slapped, his heavy hand on my shoulder. And my arm and half my back. I introduced him to Taylor, who asked if he was the one who'd take care of her dog, and they had a short chat as the lost first years started gathering near us. When Hagrid finally managed to do a complete headcount, since kids kept crawling out of the woodwork, he raised his lamp and took us down a narrow, winding path. The trees blocked the little light that came from the moon. I started by tripping on the path's stones and ended up slipping on them. The only reason I didn't end up sprawled on the floor with skinned knees and hands was Taylor, who stayed by my elbow and not only managed to keep her balance in the dark, but also somehow knew when I was going for a faceplant and held me up.

Around a bend, the steep path tapered off into a small quay, with numerous rowboats lined up in the water. The lake, black-watered at this hour, was big and surrounded by fields and forest. But it was nothing compared to the rest of the view. On our right rose cliffs, and on those cliffs there was a castle.

A castle that felt magical, even from a distance.

"Wow!" I gasped and wasn't alone in that. Besides me, Taylor was actually smiling for once. It was dark, we were tired and a bunch of the kids had slipped and gotten their dresses wet, but the morale was at an all-night high. We were going to live there for a year. Awesome.

After another headcount, as we were fifty-something kids and I doubted Hagrid was supposed to lose a single one of us, we split into groups of four, one for each boat. One of two guys in the boat with us seemed to know Taylor, nodding shyly at her, but the other didn't utter a word. The rowboats didn't have oars and just glided across the lake. The dark water was still enough, and like a mirror, it reflected the castle on the cliffs. I couldn't help but compare this to the last time I'd been on a wooden boat. But now I wasn't worried about falling, or better, being pushed off board. I was safe, headed into a big castle, lit by thousand of torches, with more towers than I could count blocking the stars. It didn't look like a fairytale, princess castle. It was more down to earth, more real and solid, like a fortress. Far more solid than a little shack on a rock.

Next to me, Taylor leaned over, whispering in my ear. "There's a city underneath us, underwater. I think it's inhabited. There are also a lot of crustaceans I don't recognize. Probably magical animals."

"Hah. That's... interesting." It was but….

Taylor nodded and sat straight again, leaving only our arms barely touching. I pushed away the disappointment I had no reason to feel. For a moment, her body pressed against mine, I had thought that it'd be nice to cuddle with her. Given the cold, wintry air and all that. Cuddling with Skitter. That was hilarious. And sad, but also hilarious. And ironic.

"It's bigger on the inside." Taylor whispered to me.

"It looks the same size to me." I said, thinking about the absolutely massive entrance hall with the giant staircase rising deeper into the castle. What it must be like to have classes in this place….

Taylor shook her head. "The entrance hall maybe, but this room and the rest of the castle definitely aren't. There are some weird things going on here."

I looked at her, searching her face and finding traces of strain around her eyes. "How do you even know this?"

"My bugs." She said simply and I nodded. She could feel through them after all.

"So," I began, seeing as the kids around us were panicking, "should we aim for the same house?"

Taylor let out a breath, controlled. "Can we? Aim for a specific house, that is? All that we know is that this Sorting isn't harmful and even that… could be wrong." Because we couldn't be certain of anything. Great, remind me of how fucked we may be again, don't you? I clench my right hand, feeling my fingers twinge again. Taylor looked me in the eye. "We'll manage, either way we will find a way to get through it."

I nodded and lowered my head. Those weren't exactly the words I'd wanted to hear, but if nothing else, at least Skitter could inspire some confidence. She sure as hell didn't look as scared as I was feeling. Another stupid feeling too, for a variety of reasons, number one of which was the very reason I was scared.

A shriek cut through the chatter and we whirled around. My heart had jumped to my throat and… I exhaled, bewildered. Floating a foot off the ground, a pair of translucent figures stopped arguing between themselves and looked at the gaggle of eleven year olds that were staring at them.

"Oh, the new students!" One of them clapped his hands happily. "Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts!" He fluttered down excitedly, trying and failing to mingle with the kids. The other remained at a respectable distance, also smiling, but looking vaguely exasperated.

"Ghosts?" Proposed Taylor in a low voice.

"I guess." I said, keeping my eyes on them. Had one of the school books mentioned ghosts? I thought they had, but I hadn't been expecting to actually meet any. I hadn't paid much attention to what the books said. They had been interesting, nice to read but… I hadn't really seen the point of it all. "They remind me of Crusader's projections." I extended a hand to touch one of the transparent beings as he passed by and it went right through his body. My body felt cold, like I'd just been doused with a bucket of ice, but there was nothing else. Whatever they were, they weren't biologically alive. "Less solid."

This was kind of creepy, I thought as I saw the other prospective students start to talk back to the ghosts, asking questions about the school, the Sorting. These were dead people. Had they gone to the other side and decided this was better? Was something tethering them here? Some unfinished business, some deep regret? And wasn't it really odd, seeing as this could still be some sort of purgatory or hell or whatever, a possibility I hadn't completely dismissed yet, that there were sort of dead people here? Like one of those Russians dolls, stacked up inside. Layers upon layers.

McGonagall, the old-style teacher that had greeted us at the castle's door, had said it would only be a few minutes and she delivered on that promise, appearing through the door that separated us from the entrance hall. She shooed away the ghosts and, after instructing us to form two lines, took us back to the entrance hall and through the great doors to the Great Hall.

It deserved the capitalization. It was as cavernous and majestic as the name would suggest. There were four tables running the length of the hall, one for each house, each marked by their giant tabard on the front wall. They were wide, longer than any other table I'd seen, seating at the very least a hundred people, each with their own set of golden plates. One last table was set perpendicularly to those four, up on a raised platform at the end of the hall, and there sat an eclectic mix of adults. Teachers, I supposed. Behind them, there was a giant window, and in the smooth stone walls of the hall, other windows were set at regular intervals. Candles floated around and, between the windows, winged gargoyles holding torches in their hands, providing the illumination. And above... there was no ceiling. The walls rose and rose, opening to the nearly cloudless, star-speckled sky outside.

Which made no sense because I'd seen the castle from outside and this part of the building definitely had a roof. A high, very much there roof, with a little tower and everything.

"It's an illusion." Taylor must have noticed me gaping like a fish out of water. "There's a ceiling, it just looks like it isn't there." Did she have bugs everywhere?

"A bloody invisible ceiling." Wizards took skylight to a whole new level, but you couldn't argue with the results. It looked, once again, magical.

We followed McGonagall down the center of the hall between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, being stared at by hundreds of eyes, living and not, all around us. We lined up in front of the staff's table, our backs facing the faculty plus Hagrid. I resisted the urge to tuck my errant curls behind my ear. If I did, everybody would see the scar. They were all peering up at us, waiting. I could see it in their faces: curiosity, excitement, boredom, schadenfreude…. It felt just like being at the podium for a press conference. And I hated press conferences.

Then McGonagall went and placed a stool in front of us, and a ratty witch hat on the stool. All the students sitting on the tables quieted down and anticipation filled the atmosphere.

The world had stopped making sense again. Was this a pageant to determine who was worthy of looking fabulous with a pointy hat on? Would we have to show our sense of style to the whole school? Just, what?

There was a fluttering sound, loud in the silence, then another. The hat wiggled in place and with a loud rip, a seam opened. Then it hunched into itself, actually hunched, and twisted. In between the folds, the shadows and that rip, I recognized the shape of a face. It looked at us, over its… brim. Was that the hat equivalent of looking over one's shoulder? The world really wasn't making much sense at all. Then it cleared its throat. Except hats don't have throats to clear. Or lungs to breathe or anything. They were made of fabric and... I was overthinking this, wasn't I? It was magic. It didn't need to make sense. Powers didn't make much sense either and I'd lived with powers my whole life, hadn't I? The hat started to sing a cheerful song. It sounded male, so maybe it was a he instead of an it?

I was too nervous, my guts felt like they were tied into a knot. I surreptitiously took a deep breath, focusing on the hat's catchy tune. I glanced at Taylor by my side. It was difficult to be sure, with the uniform and all, but she looked tense to me too. The thought that I wasn't alone in my nerves actually relaxed me, never mind the company. A month ago, I would have punched somebody if they had dared suggest that Skitter's presence would be even remotely relaxing.

After the students had finished clapping for the Hat, Professor McGonagall took a step forward and addressed us. Somewhere along the line she'd picked up a scroll. "When I call your name, you will put on the Sorting Hat and sit on the stool. Understood? Very well."

It was really just putting on a hat, I thought as the first student, a girl, was sorted into Hufflepuff. It was ridiculous but certainly fit with everything that had happened so far. A tug on my hand broke me away from my thoughts. Taylor. She leaned slightly towards me and I copied her. "What is it?" I whispered.

"Be prepared." She warned, lowly. "This could get ugly, fast."

Many things had changed between Skitter and I, but apparently her ability to ties my insides into increasingly complicated and painful knots wasn't one of them. "What the hell do you mean by that!?" I stopped and shot a look around us, but it didn't seem I'd spoken too loud.

"That hat," hissed Taylor. "It can see our minds. And we're different. We're not eleven, for one. And that's not counting everything else that it could find out rummaging in our heads."

Shit. I glanced at the Hat. It seemed to mutter to himself a lot, and hum loudly, but the only words that came out of his mouth, seam-rip-whatever, loudly enough to be heard were the names of the Houses. Maybe she was being too paranoid about this. I hoped. "But if this is an illusion, do you really think that will happen?" I whispered rapidly to her.

"Good time to break the charade. It'd be chaotic." Ah, fuck. The boy by my other side startled. Fuck, I'd said that out loud, hadn't I? Taylor grabbed my hand more firmly this time and I snapped my gaze forwards, just in time to see one of Malfoy's body guards being called up. Goyle. We were already at the G? "Anyway, I'm getting my swarms into position just in case."

I stopped myself from looking up. That was probably where she had her creepy crawlies gathering. "What should I do?"

"Just be prepared."

And the professor called out: "Granger, Taylor!"

With one last squeeze of my fingers and without a trace of hesitation, she walked to the stool and put the Hat on. I waited. And waited.

Hmmm…. Well, this is different. And difficult, very difficult.

I'm going to Sort you, of course. I'm a Sorting Hat, that's what I do.

Well, you need to be a Thinking Hat to be a Sorting Hat. I'm also a Singing Hat. I'm glad you noticed, not many do. But let me-

No, why would I? I'm the Sorting Hat, and it's nobody's business but mine where I Sort students and why. Any more questions? I am not an Answering Hat.

So what do we have here… A sharp mind, quick and hardy. Very, very willful. Bravery, plenty of it, and daring… Oh I see, determination! You have something to do. Very important to you. Perhaps Slytherin would suit you...

No? I see, and no patience at all. Hufflepuff would do you good, perhaps…

Hmm….

That may not the House for you. There is Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor, either would aid you in your quest.

Hm- hmmm… Difficult, difficult. You could fit in Slytherin… if you wanted, he would approve of you.

I still say Hufflepuff would take you in. But, well.

No, no, it just isn't there. Hm...

Gryffindor has a place for you, and Ravenclaw too. She would welcome a girl as bright as you….

Too distant for Hufflepuff…. Too sharp for Ravenclaw... and not Slytherin. Yes, yes, that is it! I think that would be for the best that you be-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I ripped the hat off my head and passed it to McGonagall. She gave me a wide smile in return, reminding me that she was Gryffindor's head of house. My new head of house. I smiled back at her and hurried to the last table on the left amidst raucous applause. Kenneth Towler, from Cedric's compartment, got to his feet and whistled enthusiastically for me. I smiled, waved at him briefly, and accepted the seat he opened up for me. Coincidentally, it was also far away from the red-haired prefect from the train and the twins that had accosted us.

As I sat, I checked on Amy. She still looked scared, so I gave her a quick thumbs up. She didn't relax completely, but she didn't look ready to bolt anymore. Good.

Kenneth raised his empty glass in my direction. "Welcome to Gryffindor, house of the brave."

"And stuff."

"And stuff, stuffing, etc... It's been awhile since we last won the cup but who knows? Maybe this'll be the year. It's also been awhile since there's been a hatstall. You had us all worried there."

"A hatstall?

"When the hat takes a long time choosing, just like that. You were definitely up there for more than five minutes."

"Oh." I paused to applaud politely as Wayne Hopkins was sorted into Hufflepuff. I spotted Cedric clapping on the table furthest from me. "It was considering all four of the houses, to be honest."

"Wow, that's unusual. The hat actually considered Ravenclaw for me, but just for a moment." He said, and I shrugged as the sorting continued.

I finished tagging everybody in the hall, taking more care to be discreet now that the threat of a mind-reading hat blowing my cover was no longer looming over me. Of course, it could still screw us, but I had a feeling it wouldn't. And Amy still had to put it on too. I spelt 'looks okay' with some ants on her palm, letter by letter, as her turn crept up. Neville Longbottom, the boy from the train, was surprisingly sorted into Gryffindor after hatstalling like me. But confirming Cedric's predictions, Draco Malfoy became a Slytherin. The hat wasn't on his head more than a second or two. It wasn't much longer before a set of twins, that were curiously Sorted into different houses, finished their turns and McGonagall announced: "Potter, Amy!"

Like a switch had been thrown, whispering filled the hall. People craned their necks to better see Amy or, I suspected, her scar. Besides me, Kenneth nudged me, asking me if I knew her. I kept my eyes trained on Amy. She still looked afraid but now she was also resolute. I remembered seeing that expression on her face before. I had seen it briefly at the bank and, not so long ago, when she'd taken my hand and climbed onto Sirius behind me. I clenched my fists on my thighs when she shoved the hat on her head and the tension in the room skyrocketed.

But it was over in an instant.

"GRYFFINDOR!" bellowed the hat.

The table around me erupted into a ruckus, cheering, clapping and yelling. I joined them, relieved at the outcome. Not only had nothing suspicious happened, we had also ended up in the same house. Even people at the other tables applauded enthusiastically, except those seated at Slytherin, where there was only the occasional polite clapping. I'd already picked up on the rivalry between the snake house and the lion house but this seemed like something more. I couldn't read the mood from the whole table but before they'd been excited. Hopeful? Now the mood veered far more towards anger and disappointment.

My musings were interrupted by Amy, who slumped down on the seat next to me. "Congratulations." I offered, but it was lost among all the cheer that the table was directing at her. In the middle of the older teens, our eleven year old selves looked small and easily overrun. Still, it calmed down rather quickly, since McGonagall was glaring daggers at the whole table.

Amy stiffened as somebody gave her a last slap on the back and turned to me, softly so that only I could hear. "Thanks. I guess. I'm starting to regret it, honestly." I tilted my head and she whispered to me. "I feel like we got sorted into the place with the highest concentration of jocks."

I gave Gryffindor's table a once over. "And class clowns."

She snorted. "True. But hey, at least we're in this together."

The sorting didn't last much longer, there were only a few students left. The red-haired boy that had run away in the train, a Ronald Weasley, was also sorted into Gryffindor, joining his brothers. The Weasley family had six sons, Kenneth explained to us, all Gryffindors. For the old magical families, apparently the house you were sorted into was in the blood, or so superstition said. We were both, however, more of the opinion that children were just raised in a way that made them want to be in a certain house, taught to value certain traits over others.

The sorting complete, McGonagall took away the hat and the stool. The headmaster stood and the hall quieted. Albus Dumbledore was more of a wizard than any magic user I'd seen to date. He looked like Gandalf with his long silver hair and beard, and he commanded the hall's entire attention with his sheer presence. I could tell he was powerful, but his smile of pride, of grandfatherly affection even, reminded me of Santa Claus. He just had a trustworthy air about him.

"Welcome." Dumbledore looked down on the students gathered and opened his arms wide. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you and tuck in!"

I had been so focused on him that I almost missed the actual banquet appearing out of nowhere. Suddenly, the table that had only possessed golden cutlery also boasted an enormous quantity of food and drink served in equally golden platters and bowls.

"Did he just… conjure all of this from thin air?" Wondered Amy as she looked suspiciously but greedily at a delicious looking roast beef.

"No way." Kenneth answered her, leaning forward to grab a plate of sausages. "You can't eat conjured food. Gamp's Law, you'll learn it in Transfiguration. Speaking of which, I also wouldn't recommend transfigured food, unless you really trust the transfigurer's skills. The food is actually prepared down in the kitchens and the actual magic is transporting it up here."

"Is that what he did?" I asked.

"I… don't think so?" Kenneth paused. "No, can't be. Dumbledore isn't even present at every lunch and dinner. The plates must be charmed to appear and disappear according to some signal."

Around the table, the conversation circulated. Tales about what people had done during summer, plans and complaints for and about the new school year, a few academic topics and, with the new first years, introductions. One horror story circulated about Neville who, we learned to our horror, had been thrown out of a window by his uncle to find out whether Neville had magic when he was just a little boy. I noticed with interest that our new classmates were of varied origins, and that the girls seemed of an amenable sort. It didn't look like I was going to have problems within Gryffindor, at least. On the contrary, I was warned about going into the dungeons alone or trusting the Slytherins with anything important, because finding 'a decent snake' was akin to finding a needle in a haystack.

The House ghost, Sir Nicholas Mimsy the Nearly Headless, came by to welcome us to Gryffindor, drawing more attention to Amy again. Shortly after he'd left, I detected Amy trying hiding a wince. I had a spider move from under her robes to the skin of her ankle. She started violently and snapped her head towards me. I sent her a questioning look. Amy shook her head. "Nothing," she said, rubbing her forehead, "It's just been a long day."

I decided to leave it at that, for now. That hadn't been just a normal headache.

Dinner was filling, but very heavy. Far heavier than what I was used to eating. It wasn't that the foods were greasy or such, but there was an overabundance of meats and other products that had to be more traditionally British or even Scottish. There was barely any fish, though I was assured that wasn't always the case, and the salads left something to be desired. The main drink was also pumpkin juice, though they did have water and other juices, of which I settled for grape juice. Nonetheless, the food was great, very well cooked and seemingly unending. Despite my renewed metabolism, I was full after one good serving. In the meanwhile, Amy had demolished two and half plates full of food with an ease that her thin frame didn't convey. And this was after having spent the whole afternoon sleeping and snacking on a multitude of sweets and pastries. I had my theories about that too.

The platters with main courses had slowly been replaced by deserts and as the dinner wound down, around nine and a half in the evening, Dumbledore once again rose and clapped his hands. The leftover food disappeared much in the same way it had appeared and the hall fell silent.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years, note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils." His eyes twinkled with mirth and he turned just very slightly to the Gryffindor table. "And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Then his countenance turned serious, his voice a whisper that carried into every ear, magic or not, I couldn't tell. "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."

There were a few scattered laughs, but they were the exceptions. The teachers who hadn't lost their smiles were faking them now, and the older students looked uncomfortable and some even scared. A few murmurs broke the now stifling silence. Across from us, an elder girl commented on how odd and weird this was, even for the old wizard. Amy meet my eyes, pale and I nodded, my own mind whirring.

Dumbledore than called for the school song, but I tuned it out, only mechanically following along.

An idea had taken a hold of my mind. Assuming we were indeed in an illusion of some sort, controlled or designed by an intelligence of some sort… the headmaster's warning was a blatant red flag. An unusual event, some unscripted change to the world as it was presented? No, not unscripted. Before, I was thinking of the script, of the template that Hogwarts was built around, as based on a normal school. I assumed that our enemies would introduce or change elements to confuse and harm us. This event could just be the start of it.

But, what if it was part of the script all along? What if the underlying foundation of the illusion wasn't static, but flowing? Like a book, an adventure in a fantastic boarding school… or a game?

Powers were quirky, so there was no reason it couldn't be a possibility. It was Über and Leet's style… but with psychological twists right up Jack's alley. Just a glimmer of hope that we could free ourselves.

We just had to beat this 'game', first.

Oh, another difficult one…. Mmmm….

Well, you sound rather sure, are you sure that's what you want? Perhaps another house would fit you better. In Hufflepuff, you could make life-long friends; in Slytherin, you could be...

I see, I see. Well, if you insist so much, then I suppose that the best house for you could just be-