It Begins With Magic

It Begins With Magic

Chapter One: Discovery

Sitting at his desk in the late afternoon, and looking down from a large window that served partly to illuminate the oval office, and partly to allow it's occupant to observe his pupils, Sir Felix closed his eyes wearily. He allowed the breeze coming from the partially opened window to comfort him as it had for so many years during his more troubled days. The cool, spring air carried promises of summer and it's seemingly endless respite from learning for the students--an illusion holding until it was almost over. Funny, the Headmaster thought, how promises work...

A knock at the door shattered his reverie. He sighed--his face too prematurely lined with worry that had not been there just a few years ago--and called for the visitor to please come in. To his surprise, it was not another student wishing for advice in choosing a class for next year (there had certainly been enough of those) or one looking for help on exams, but another teacher, Professor Zephyr. In his hand was that of an unruly, angry child, one Felix could have sworn wasn't a member of the school just yet.

"Derrick, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We've found a new student for you--caught him destroying a field a few hours ago," Zephyr said, dispensing with all meaningless pleasantries. The man was brilliant, but severe, an attitude which did not endear him to his students. The boy grunted, and looked up at the Headmaster, who was shocked as he saw the emotions expressed there. Of course there was the typical confusion and indignation at having been plucked from his hometown and then sent off to a strange place, but there was an intense weariness and hatred hidden behind his intelligent brown eyes. Hatred, thought the Headmaster sadly, is something a child should never know. It blinds and stings both its carrier and the one to which the emotion is directed.

"Thank you, Derrick. You may leave now."

The door both opened and closed, but Felix paid no heed. He was busy observing the surly though still quite scrawny youth sitting opposite him. He reminds me of myself at that age but without the brown hair, brown eyes, and awful misconceptions.

"Hello young man, would you care to tell me about yourself?" Be pleasant, Felix, be pleasant....

"No." The boy smirked and leaned back in the chair, clearly preparing for a lengthy discussion, while Felix was hoping against hope that the child would stop being difficult.

"All right," Felix said, now slightly impatient, "then you will be dismissed to the Infirmary until you feel that you can discuss things with me."

"Who are you?"

"I believe I asked you first, young man." Gosh I feel like I'm four again, saying those words.

"I want to go home. If I answer your dumb questions, will you let me leave?"

Oh. It's like that is it? "I'm sorry, but I cannot. I doubt you even know why you're here." Let's not start a fight now....

"Let me guess, to learn Devil magic? Not interested." So he's more Muggle than I thought.

"Child, this school was built in order to teach young wizards and witches--yes, that it what you are now--to control their power. If you do not wish to take any other supplementary courses on its usage, that would be perfectly fine. But you must learn to control the sheer, raw energy that now marks and separates you from your friends and family, if you ever wish to return--"

"Do you mean that I'm stuck in this madhouse forever? That's ridiculous!" Though the boy did not raise his voice, Felix shivered involuntarily. This one's powerful.

"There are plenty of other students here that I'm sure you'd like to meet, and perhaps you will open up to them if not to me." The child's face reddened, and Felix quickly stepped in to avoid an argument, "But we will get little, if anything, accomplished by this bickering. You may leave for the Infirmary." Felix picked a pen off his desk, and moved an inkwell and sheet of paper around so that they were right before him. As he was about to the dip the pen into the ink, he heard the boy's voice again.

"What are you doing?" Felix looked up, and found himself mesmerized by his brown eyes--no, now almost reddish, but perhaps that was the effect the dwindling light had on eyes of that color, Felix reasoned wildly. He was unable to prolong the staring contest, yet could not bring himself to abort it. If he had, he would have noticed that his pen was no longer in his hand, but floating a gently in midair.

When the Headmaster did realize, he calmly plucked it free of the invisible strands holding it and dismissed the boy with a wave of his hand. I can't let him know that he frightens me. "I guess that mean you do not wish instructions to find the Infirmary?" His question was quite unnecessary; the child was already out the door.

His head in his hands, Felix sighed, wondering how on earth an untrained child could do that to a pen, and why, by default, it was always he who had to deal with the difficult ones.

The boy found the infirmary without much difficulty--he simply had to ask a few people in the hallways for directions, eliciting a few odd glances, but arriving whole nonetheless. The matron studied him for a moment, before venturing a question, "You're the boy the Headmaster sent, correct?" He nodded, and immediately was pushed gently towards a huge, cushioned bed surrounded by adjustable curtains. A goblet was shoved into his hands, and he eyed the smoking orange liquid suspiciously.

"Come on, drink up!" the Matron snapped, her patient demeanor gone as she found herself mobbed with students. One girl was squeaking madly, and when she turned around he spotted a small gray tail.

"What is it?" the boy asked, jerking his head toward the goblet in his hands. He didn't trust anything here. Devil work.

"It's actually quite revolutionary; it's called the Renewal Potion. A friend of mine invented it, but she says we are quite far from the day it won't taste like scum and leave your ears steaming for hours after. But it helps with exhaustion, the main problem with new students. If Professor Zephyr wore you out a bit less when he collected you, we wouldn't have this problem--but drink up!" Giving him a scrutinizing look, the bustling woman watched as he poured the potion down his throat. With a smile, she tucked in his bed-clothes as his face contorted into a look of extreme revulsion.

"If you need anything, just call for Madam Gertrude. That's me." Everything was going quite hazy, and he was regretting having swallowed the vile concoction. Peering miserably out the window next to him, he saw a face staring back at him from a window not so far away. A hand pulled back the curtains from the other window, and a girl's face smiled out at him. He tried to grin but failed as everything spun for a final time and he slipped into the realm of unconsciousness.

When he awoke from a pleasant dream where his mother was baking cookies and allowing him to stay home from lessons, he saw that if he tilted his head just so, he could see the outline of the girl in the window. She was reading now, but a quick jarring of his window while Madam Gertrude turned about changed that. Her window was already open.

"Hey!" He was surprised that his voice was that rough. How long have I been sleeping? He ran his hand through his hair, hoping he didn't look too disheveled.

She looked around, then smiled as she caught sight of him. "Hi! Are you okay? You've been out for three days now, if you've just woken up, that is." Her soft voice carried in the crisp October air.

His stomach rumbled loudly, announcing its need to be fed. "Let me leave you to your meal," she said, laughing. "Unless you'd like company?"

Butterflies now replaced the hunger pangs in his gut. "Sure, I mean, it'd be really great if you could hop over." She nodded, and closed the window, drawing the curtains shut again.

He waited nervously, hoping she would come, yet wondering if he would have anything interesting to say to her if she did. But before he could tear any hair out of his head, she appeared at the foot of his bed, donned in the light gray robes that everyone seemed to wear. Her long, black hair was braided, reaching far down her back. Her thin frame held itself proudly, and her high cheekbone and pale face accentuated the boy's feeling that she was one of noble birth. Why would she be here doing Devil work? For the first time, he allowed himself to doubt his mother's beliefs. She's so pretty. How could she be a witch?

Without any introduction, she sat down in the chair beside his bed, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. "I've been here just for a few days, no longer than you. I feel fine, but the Headmaster won't allow me to join classes for another week! So unfair! So I asked for a few books to be sent up from the library--amazing how few there are--as I've been trying to get a good hold on everything." Finally taking the chance to breathe, she smiled again.

"Sorry, I do that a lot- the babbling thing. Aren't you excited though?" Oh, don't tell me she's really a witch....

The boy felt his face going red with anger. "No. I'd like to go home." The beautiful smile was gone, and an aching pain told him that he should not have said that.

"Listen, I'm also new to this, and I can't lie and say I think it's great that I'm a witch, because it's not. But I'm going to accept it, because brooding over it will just put me far behind in my studies, and that's the last thing I'd want to do. My parents are also very upset, if that's what you mean by going home, but they'll accept it in their own time, and so will yours."

"My parents don't care about Devil magic," he spat, "and neither do I."

"Oh shut up! You and your mumbo jumbo! Do you even know what magic is? Read about it, learn a little--it can't hurt! And if after all that, you still hate it, well at least then you can say that you gave it a fair shot." She rose from her chair, eyes blazing with anger. "Sir Felix is kind enough to take us in--learning is the least we can do to repay him. Devil work indeed!"

"I asked your beloved Headmaster if I could go home, and he refused. What kindness is there in that?" I must have struck a nerve if she's that easily offended by the term "devil magic."

"Well obviously you can't return home," she explained with an infuriatingly superior air about her. "You know nothing about controlling your powers! I'd love to go home--but I can't. Almost everyone else here is homesick so you'll just have to get used to it!"

It was an almost laughable situation, the boy thought, her face getting all red and they'd only known each other for a few moments. Maybe...maybe she's right, he conceded to the small part of him that associated the pretty girl with magic, and maybe, just maybe, Mother could be wrong. I don't know that much about magic after all.... He consciously made an effort to smile, and stretched out his right hand, now feeling some of the exhaustion that had weighed him down the past few days. The Headmaster was right. The days with Zephyr and the interview really did exhaust me. "I think we should start over. Hi, I'm Godric Gryffindor. And you?"

The girl giggled, holding out her hand pompously. "I'm Rowena Ravenclaw; nice to make your acquaintance."

Godric kissed her hand, and Rowena blushed. "Ms. Ravenclaw, I have a feeling that we are going to be very good friends." I really hope so, don't you? Anyway, pretty girls can't be associated with devil work...all the pictures show ugly hags.

"Indeed Mr. Gryffindor. Indeed."

***

Sir Felix paced the floor of his study--a habit which had become more pronounced over the past few days--wondering if there was a coincidence between the two As he had done for the past few days, Sir Felix paced the floor of his study, wondering if there was a coincidence between the two very unusual children he had admitted in the past week. First there was the lovely Rowena Ravenclaw--now that was an unforgettable interview, incomparable with the thousands he had held since the founding of the academy. He could just see her coming in the room now, a blue frock gracing her petite figure and her face cast downwards.

"Hello my dear," Felix said, rising to close the door behind the impatient Professor Zephyr.

"Hullo sir."

"And what might your name be?"

"It's Rowena Ravenclaw, sir."

"Ms. Ravenclaw, do you know why you're here?" Felix wanted to break it to this one gently--she looked upset enough as it is.

But this he had not expected. "Yes sir. It's because...because," she looked up, her blue eyes glittering with unshed tears. "Because I'm magic, sir." Her hand twisted in her lap, playing with the lace bow tied to the side of her frock that was in much need of repair. Most children arrived at Veneficium Academy quite run down--their parents usually cared much less for their welfare after they were deemed witches and wizards. Zephyr took care of most of the children, but a few other professors such as Professor Sonya Rikkel helped out when Zephyr was over his head. Usually this left the Potions teacher in a very vindictive mood, worsened by the frequent pranks played on him by the children. He complained endlessly about the overwhelming amount of research he was unable to complete due to his students, but all knew that Derrick really loved teaching, and none could imagine him doing anything else. Professor Sonya, on the other hand, was adored by her pupils. She was the Other World teacher, and had to educate the young wizards and witches about the Muggle world, and the need to accept (though not agree with) its many problems and prejudices. The curriculum included reasons why, after they had finished their magical studies, they should not harm Muggles for the hate they had been shown. Her fun loving and easy going personality warmed many students to the topic that they would naturally detest as most of them had been rejected by their non-magical family and friends after they were found to be different.

A pang of sympathy shot through Felix's heart. He rose, walked around his desk, and put a hand on her shoulder. "One day, Ms. Ravenclaw, you will find that this is not such a bad thing after all." The Headmaster took his wand out of his pocket, and gave it a wave. "Orchideous!" A bouquet of brightly colored flowers appeared at the tip of Felix's wand, eliciting a smile from Rowena.

"Could you teach me that?" she gasped in delight. Felix chuckled.

"Not yet, Ms. Ravenclaw, you haven't learnt the basics yet and I doubt you have a wand either. "But," he continued, seeing her crestfallen expression, "I promise you'll learn it soon enough."

Rowena nodded. "When am I to start classes? Soon, I hope--I don't want to fall too far behind!" Goodness, what will we do with her once she devours the library?

"First you must spend some time in the Infirmary," a point of his wand sent a quick message to Madam Gertrude to tell her of her new patient, "and then we will put you into regular classes such as Potions, Spells, Charms, and Other World. Then, perhaps, we'll move you into more advanced programs if you excel."

The look on her face told Felix that she'd be more than ready for the advanced programs in a few weeks. He had to stifle another laugh. She'll be a handful, but I can bet I'll enjoy every moment of her time here. She'll be great, one day. Make the history books for sure--maybe even write them.

Soon after she left with a new book in her arms entitled "For the New Magic Student". Rowena had wheedled Felix into lending her his copy of the book, promising she'd send it back after she finished it. The smile on her face had been well worth the book, Felix decided.

Shaking his head, Felix mentally compared her interview to the boy Madam Gertrude had identified as Godric Gryffindor. Apparently, they had become fast friends, so inseparable that the Matron had moved them to the same wing. Felix hadn't agreed with her about that--putting those two together would be dangerous. With Rowena's natural curiosity and Godric's power...but it was over and done with. At least there are only two of them--can you imagine a school of sullen Gryffindors and studious Ravenclaws?

Felix looked down at the two folders he had on his desk, each already containing a letter of evaluation written after the child's interview. Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor--they'll make us proud, he decided, putting the folders into a locked portion of his desk, away from those of other students. I'll watch you two carefully....