Willow Song

3: Summer Sixteen

The next morning Professor McGonagall knocked at the door right after breakfast, with her own eyes looking nearly as red and swollen as Serena's and the Samuelson's. Serena gave her parents a tearful, but hopeful, goodbye.

McGonagall pointed her wand at Serena's trunk, commanded, "Reducto," and sent Serena's now mug-sized trunk to Hogwarts in the talons of a great horned owl who had suddenly swooped down from the tree in the yard. Before Serena could express her astonishment, the professor then pulled out a fuzzy green argyle sock and explained that it was a Portkey that would take them to Diagon Alley. She explained that the Headmaster would have joined them, but he had to meet with the Wizengamot and inform them of the Dark Lord's return. She placed her hand with McGonagall's on the sock. After Serena felt like a fish hooked and pulled by her navel for a horribly unsettling minute, she found herself and Professor McGonagall standing on the cobbled street of Diagon Alley. Completely unruffled by the trip, McGonagall continued telling Serena about recent events in the magical world. She told Serena all about how Voldemort had regained a body and the past year's Tri-Wizard Tournament. Then McGonagall shared the barest essentials of her involvement with a group dedicated to Voldemort's defeat, enough so that Serena would understand when McGonagall was gone on Order business.

They first stopped at Gringotts and Serena was amazed to see how much was held in trust for her. She took out what Professor McGonagall said was enough to cover her supplies and some money for free spending, and then headed to the street. They purchased robes, a cauldron, potion supplies, and a couple comprehensive history books, McGonagall said that they'd buy more once she'd decided which classes Serena should be in. Serena observed that McGonagall noticed how rarely she made eye contact with anyone, often casting her gaze on the ground, but offered her no explanations.

They went next to Ollivander's Wand Shop. Mr. Ollivander measured her and tried wand after wand, but none seemed right to him. Serena's excitement began to turn to weariness as she wondered whether she even needed a wand. Finally, he went to a dusty shelf in a dark corner of the shop labeled "Foreign Made Wands" and pulled out a thin willow wand. "Perhaps, perhaps," he muttered, glancing at Serena's dark eyes and olive skin. Serena gingerly took the wand in her hands and gave it a timid wave. She felt a surge of energy and light flow up her arm and relief flood into her mind. "That wand has a raven tail core and the wood is North American Weeping Willow. I keep a small supply of them just in case I meet someone of aboriginal American descent. You're the first." He almost smiled.

"How did you know I had Native Canadian ancestors?"

"I didn't, but the wand knew," he replied.

"Uh, thanks for your help." Serena muttered in wonder, thinking back to the reservation where she was born. How could her mother being French Canadian Metis make a difference in what wand she should have? She examined it closely, trying to understand her connection to a piece of wood: trying to understand its connection to her, amazed that it seemed to have a soul of its own.

Professor McGonagall interrupted her reverie. "I said, Serena, it's time we go for lunch."

Serena and Professor McGonagall stopped and ate a light lunch at the Leaky Cauldron before taking the Portkey back to Hogwarts.

Serena found the inside of the Castle even more fascinating than the outside and longed to explore it, but her professor insisted on testing her that afternoon to see which classes she would take. The tests were grueling, but after six long hours, she completed them, and they broke for a late supper.

McGonagall shared her assessment. "Very well Miss Willowsong, in all wand work--Transfiguration, Defense, and Charms--you are at year one. We'll begin intensive remediation in these three subjects first thing in the morning and see how much we can make up in the two months before school starts. Astronomy, Potions, Herbology, and Divination, you're at NEWT level. So in those classes, should you want to take them, you'll go right in with the other sixth years, though you'll need to take the OWLs for them at the end of the term with the fifth years. "You know almost nothing about the history of Magic. I suggest you read an hour or so each night in the comprehensive volumes we purchased and get a good basic grounding in magical history. Arithmancy skills are non-existent," she said leafing through the parchments. "You could teach Muggle Studies. Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, you're at year four. Not bad. The question is, where do you want to go with this education?"

"I want to serve where my skills are most needed. Is there a career option for a healer who focuses on people's minds, like a witch version of a psychiatrist? I think with my Seeing and Legilimency I could learn how to do that."

"You want to be a Psychic Healer? They're very rare," McGonagall said, taken slightly aback. "So rare, I don't know if there is anyone who could teach you need to know. But yes, with the war that's begun again, we'll need a good Psychic Healer. You'll need Potions, Herbology, Divination, Astronomy, Charms, and a Muggle psychology class. And you'll need to get at least passing OWL's in all your wand classes."

Together they drew up a two month long study schedule: three hours of Charms every morning, three hours of Transfiguration every afternoon, Defense Against the Dark Arts daily between tea and supper, and History of Magic and Magic Theory after dinner every night--six days a week every week for nine weeks. She had Sundays off for the summer to go to church with her parents and spend the day with them. Various staff members were in and out throughout the summer, especially the three involved in Order of the Phoenix business, so she had for teachers whomever was available. She even had the opportunity to take a defensive session from Professor Sprout. What she discovered was that with the sessions being given one on one, and the intensive time she put into studying and practicing the spells, combined with her aptitude for learning, she acquired her wand skills rapidly. By the end of the summer she had completed through year three in the wand classes.

McGonagall was a wonderful mentor, and Serena thrived under her instruction. Serena felt McGonagall's hesitancy with being more than just a professor for Serena, so Serena was careful to always use her proper title and keep things appropriately formal. The summer flew by in a rapid rush of learning, discovery, and excitement.

The weekend before school began, McGonagall called her into her office. "Serena, Headmaster Dumbledore wants to know if you'd like to be sorted into a house tomorrow with the other new students, or be sorted privately tonight?

Serena had already been told about the sorting process. "Wouldn't I look rather conspicuous sitting up there with all the eleven year olds?"

"If you'd like, we can go to the Headmaster's office and sort you tonight."

"Tonight, thank you. Can we leave right now?"

Serena was curious what the hat would say, so she rather excitedly rushed off to Dumbledore's office with Professor McGonnagal walking quickly to keep up with her. "Ah yes, Miss Willowsong. I see you've decided to be sorted tonight. Here, have a seat." He drew a cushy velvet armchair with his wand and motioned her to sit on it. "I take it you've had a productive summer." His eyes gently twinkled.

"Yes, Professor." Serena suddenly felt shy.

"May I interest you in a lemon drop?" Serena shook her head no. "Go on then, Minerva." McGonagall handed her an ancient hat, which Serena placed on her head.

The hat's voice sounded immediately in her head. "Hmm. We have some very Slytherin talents in here, very Slytherin. It's all here. But no, you lack ruthlessness and cunning. You don't seek for your own glory. Smart enough for Ravenclaw; you'd fit well there. But is that where you'd grow the most? Too much of a loner for Hufflepuff. Selfless, idealistic, non-conformist, adventurous? Yes, Gryffindor!" The hat said the last word aloud.

"So you've joined my old house," said Dumbledore. "You've joined the fearless. I remember during my third year, I hid a niffler in our Head's sock drawer. Most amusing! And disastrous--what a cursing he gave me . . . I haven't been able to keep my socks in pairs since."

McGonagall interrupted, "Professor Dumbledore."

"OH, yes, well as I was saying, be watchful. The Ministry has appointed our new Defense teacher, and I'm sure she'll be keeping a close eye on Gryffindor house, both past and present members."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I'll be careful. And thank you for letting me be sorted tonight."

After they left Dumbledore's office, Serena turned to McGonagall and asked "Did he mean the ministry is watching him because of he and Harry Potter saying Voldemort is back?"

"Precisely because of that." Minerva's lips pressed together thinly as she led Serena back to her apartment.