Rowena's Quill

On the morning of her eleventh birthday, Rowena refused to leave the house. Mother assured her that her letter would reach her wherever she went, but Rowena couldn't think of doing anything else on such an important day. She perched herself beside a window and waited.

Luckily, she did not have to wait long. An owl, plain as the plainest wizard's owl, dropped the letter in her lap shortly after breakfast. Rowena held her breath and gazed at the Hogwarts seal before opening it. How could she break such an exquisite emblem? How could she not? It felt like she'd been waiting for this moment her entire childhood.

"Here," said Mother, offering Rowena her special quill. Rowena blinked up at her. She'd never been permitted to use the quill before. It was a symbolic moment, and they were both nearly overcome. Taking the quill, Rowena gently prodded its tip under the seal to tear it as little as possible. Then she unfolded the letter and read:

Dear Miss Rockrimmon,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

"Deputy Headmistress," her mother read over her shoulder. "Oh, the surprises life sends us! But I must be grateful for the precious years I had . . . and for you of course," she added, stroking Rowena's hair with fondness.

"Why didn't Dumbledore send the letter?" asked Rowena.

"Professor Dumbledore," corrected Mother. "He is the greatest, kindest wizard alive. Give him the honor he deserves. Always address him by his title, and stand up when he enters the room. Actually, you ought to do that for all your professors even if nobody else does."

"Yes, Mother."

"And I have much more to tell you about Hogwarts, but first, answer your letter."

"Oh, of course!" cried Rowena.

And before she could take a step toward the desk, her mother smiled and added, "With the quill."

Rowena grinned, too, feeling very grown up. The quill would not be hers until she finished Hogwarts, but penning her first letter with it was all part of the tradition. She wrote in the most formal language she could think of, which seemed to come quite naturally once she was holding the quill:

To the Honorable Hogwarts Faculty:

Thank you for accepting me as a student. I have been waiting for this for as long as I can remember. I am looking forward to beginning my magical education.

Sincerely,
Rowena Rockrimmon

The letter was short, and didn't quite capture all the eagerness inside her, but she knew the quill had guided her to just the right words.

"It reads thoughts?" Rowena asked.

"It can harmonize itself with your thoughts and help you express them," explained Mother, motioning that she wanted the quill back and she wanted to see the letter. "'To the Honorable Hogwarts Faculty.' I see you are bursting eager to meet Professor Dumbledore."

"Well, you've told me so much about him, and he never visits when I'm awake."

"He does that deliberately. Except under extenuating circumstances, he does not meet with students, or future students, outside of Hogwarts. And this brings me to what I wanted to tell you."

Rowena suppressed a loud sigh. She knew what was coming. Mother was going to warn her against boasting about her lineage.

"Young as you are, I have never hidden the truth from you. You know very well that these are dangerous times."

Rowena nodded. This was not the speech she'd been expecting.

"At Hogwarts you may likely meet children of actual Death Eaters."

"But how could Professor Dumbledore - "

"If a child has magical potential, Professor Dumbledore does not discriminate against him because of his family background. That wouldn't be any different than refusing a student entry because he was Muggle born."

"It's different," said Rowena.

"Somewhat different," her mother agreed. "Death Eaters' children can be dangerous if they follow their parents' prejudices. But educating them away from that is the task of Professor Dumbledore and his faculty, and no doubt they do their job better than anyone can. But you must still be on your guard, especially from people who'll try to flatter you and fill you with false ideas about the purity of blood. It is right to be proud of our foremother, but she does not make us a whit better than anybody else. Plenty of Muggle born wizards have risen to great heights and disproved all the theories of magical lineage. The best you can do is to be your own witch. Who you come from and who you will become are never as important as who you are now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother," said Rowena. So it was the same old speech, but with bigger implications. Rowena vowed never to boast. She was not a snob . . . or something worse.

Mother smiled sweetly. "Now how about a manual game of Rack 'n Rune?"

Mother never spoke about the matter again after that. She did, however, speak about the curriculum at Hogwarts quite often, increasing Rowena's anticipation by the day. They made several trips to Diagon Alley for supplies. Seeing her mother's textbooks lined up for the Runes classes filled Rowena with pride, though she would not begin Runes herself until third year.

But nothing thrilled Rowena as much as getting her first wand. Though Mr. Ollivander was considered the best wand maker in England, Mother took her to a lesser known witch named Madam Tristessa who kept a small store above the Apothecary. Her wands were a bit more experimental than Mr. Ollivander's and she took cores from a wider variety of magical creatures. Among those creatures was the pet raven of Rowena Ravenclaw, the very same raven whose feather made her mother's quill. Rowena's wand core was a mix of both raven and phoenix feather.

"Phoenix seems very fitting for the daughter of an Unspeakable," observed Madam Tristessa.

At last, September 1 arrived. But as excited as Rowena had been, when she finally reached Kings Cross Station, she was absolutely terrified. Platform 9 ¾ was full of strangers, most of whom were greeting each other and chatting happily. She felt a tightness in her throat threatening to turn into tears if she wasn't careful.

"What if I don't make friends?" she whispered to her mother.

"Of course you will."

"Just like Mother to say something like that," thought Rowena, unconvinced.

"Look," said her mother, drawing close. "See that round-faced girl over there? She looks like a first year, too. And even if that boy is her older brother, he won't sit with her. He's wearing a prefect badge, which means he'll have a special compartment when he's not monitoring the train. We'll wait while she says goodbye to her parents, then after she boards the train, you follow her, and you'll have someone to sit with."

Rowena watched as the girl hug her father first, and then her mother. She clung to each of them quite tightly.

"She's as nervous as I am," Rowena realized.

The girl was still holding her mother's hand as her older brother ran and seemed to disappear into thin air.

"Your turn, Alice," said her father. "Ready?"

Alice nodded.

"Be a good girl, now."

"Yes, Mother." Taking a deep breath, Alice ran in the same direction her brother had and she, too, vanished.

"All right, Rowena," said her mother, giving her one last kiss on the top of her hair.

"The first few days are hard for everybody, but I know you'll love Hogwarts."

Rowena squeezed her mother's hand. She was feeling better already. She whizzed off in the same direction as Alice, and in an instant, she was standing on the inside of a sparklingly clean train brimming with teenagers.

"You're blocking," said Alice's brother to a group of boys. They stepped aside and let her pass. She darted into one of the compartments.

"Expect major upsets this year, Smith," said a chubby boy to Alice's brother. "We're second years now, and Potter's going out for Chaser."

Smith turned around and looked the boys up and down, particularly the boy in glasses. Rowena assumed he must be Potter. Smith sniffed as though unimpressed.

"Looks like he doesn't believe you," said another boy. "Oh well, as we all know, 'it takes talent to recognize talent.'" He said the last bit in a sort of affected voice while holding his hands out in front of himself to indicate a very fat stomach. Rowena guessed he was imitating someone, and he must have done it well because everyone around was laughing.

"Now that sounds familiar," said a bald and overweight as he stepped out from one of the compartments.

"Uh oh," said the chubby boy.

But the overweight man was not the least bit angry. Instead, he laughed, lay a hand on the shoulder of the boy who'd mocked him, and said, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but your voice needs to deepen before you can do me justice, dear boy."

People began to snicker. Apparently, they enjoyed seeing this boy bested, though in fact, he took it in stride.

"You're holding up traffic, boys," said the overweight man as more and more people gathered behind them.

The boys stepped aside, and the other students began pushing themselves forward. Each one gave the man a "thank you, sir," or "thank you, Professor," most of which he acknowledged with a hearty "welcome back" friendly slight nod. To one pretty red-head, he said, "Ah, Lily, I trust you've had a good summer."

"Yes, thank you, sir," said Lily.

"Ready to dazzle us all again with your abundant talent and charm? Will you break poor Potter's heart again this year?"

"You bet," said Lily nonchalantly. The professor howled with laughter as she walked away, but to Potter he said, "Don't worry. She'll come round."

More students filed past, each one receiving the professor's greeting, but he seemed to deliberately ignore one blonde boy in glasses. Rowena felt bad for him. The professor had been terribly rude. She made to pass by him, too, but he stopped her.

"And you must be Sophie's daughter - you look exactly like her!" he boomed. "Surely you've heard of me. I'm responsible for your parents' marriage, you know."

"Professor Slughorn?" she asked shyly.

"In the flesh!" he said, patting his own abundant store of it. Elbowing Potter, he said, "Listen to this story. This is why you need me. About twenty years ago, a lovely young lady came to teach Runes at Hogwarts. Now she had a long and secret crush on an older man - a brilliant wizard, an Unspeakable."

Rowena shrunk from all the eyes staring at her.

"Anyway, I made sure to invite him to my Yule party, and they were engaged after only a few dates! So you see, I am quite the matchmaker. But alas, the poor chap died in a research-related accident at a very young age."

The eyes around her became more sympathetic but more curious, too. Rowena wanted to run into a nice, quiet compartment without so many people. Why did this have to be her introduction to Hogwarts?

Professor Slughorn must have sensed her awkwardness because he said, "You and I will have plenty of time to chat, I'm sure. Run along now and find yourself a seat before they're all taken."

"Thank you, sir," said Rowena, scooting away quickly. She looked inside the compartments, most of which were full. She passed one where the blonde boy Professor Slughorn had snubbed was reading alone. He had already changed into a robe with a blue emblem. He was a Ravenclaw.

"I suppose I'll join him if Alice isn't alone," she thought. "It would be nice to hear newer information than Mother's."

But a few compartments down, she did find Alice sitting alone. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

"May I sit here?" asked Rowena.

"Sure," said Alice eagerly.

"I'm Rowena Rockrimmon."

"Oh, what a beautiful name! I'm just plain old Alice Smith. Are you from a Ravenclaw family that your name is Rowena?"

Evidently, Alice knew some history.

"I'm named after my father, actually, but my family are Ravenclaws." It was a neutral enough statement. No significant details revealed.

"My family are all Hufflepuffs," said Alice, "but sometimes people get into different houses than their families."

"I thought that was very unusual."

"But it happens. Sirius Black - he was one of the boys standing outside - comes from a Slytherin family, but he's in Gryffindor."

"You already know people here?" Rowena asked in surprise.

"Not really," said Alice. "I know my brother, of course, and I've met some his friends. Sirius Black is from my neighborhood. He's all right, but we're too different to be friends."

"What neighborhood?"

"I'm from London - the older wizarding section."

Rowena nodded. Her grandmother lived there, too. That meant Alice had probably grown up much like her mother had, in a big mansion with a house-elf. But Alice hadn't said any of this, and Rowena respected her for it.

Alice's brother pulled open the compartment door and let himself in. He was momentarily surprised to see Rowena there, looked her up and down the way he had Potter, and sat down beside Alice. Rowena supposed this meant he approved.

"Rowena, this is my brother Darius. Darius, this is Rowena Rockrimmon."

"Are you the one they're saying is a daughter of an Unspeakable?" he asked.

"Yes," said Rowena hesitantly.

"Hmmph. The story of how Slughorn introduced your parents has been bandied about all over the train."

Rowena frowned. This was just the sort of attention her mother told her to avoid.

"Don't worry," said Darius. "Slughorn told everyone not to ask you any questions. What goes on at the Department of Mysteries is top secret, and anyone who doesn't know that had better learn it."

"It's been kept secret from me, too," said Rowena, though it wasn't entirely true. She did know about the portal through which her father had passed. And she also believed what her mother told her: he was far too skilled to have died in a "research related accident." Something more had happened.

"They'll be on to something else soon enough," said Darius. "By the time we get to Sorting, Black and Potter'll have done something so outrageous, everyone will be talking about that. Second year and they act like they own the school. Well, they're Longbottom's problem, not mine."

"He's been made prefect, too?" asked Alice.

"Naturally. He's the best bloke in Gryffindor." Darius turned to Rowena. "So what house is your family from?"

"Ravenclaw."

"Ah, well, that stands to reason. An Unspeakable would have to be a scholar. We're Hufflepuffs. But first years always have a few classes together, and friendship among the houses is a big thing these days. You'll see."

"Darius, what happens at the Sorting?" asked Alice.

"Aww, c'mon Alice, give it up."

"But we're so close it! Shouldn't we be prepared?"

"It's Hogwarts tradition that nobody knows what the sorting is until they've gone through it. If I told you, would that be fair to the others?"

"I suppose not," said Alice dejectedly.

Darius stood up. "I'm going to go back to monitor the halls. Be a good girl, Alice."

"'Be a good girl, Alice,'" she mocked as he went away. "What trouble does he think I'll make in here?"

Rowena tried to look sympathetic. "My mother wouldn't tell me about the Sorting either. The only thing she said was that I'm as prepared as I need to be."

"I wonder what that means," said Alice.

They spent the rest of the ride exchanging stories they'd heard about Hogwarts. Alice knew all about Quidditch since her brother played Hufflepuff Seeker. Rowena shared everything she'd been told about the coursework. The time seemed to pass quickly, and before they knew it, they were at Hogwarts.

The boat ride was exactly as her mother described it. She counted at least five Merpeople swimming below. And the castle was even more magnificent than she had imagined. The Great Hall was immense, and when Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the front, they were in full view of every student, teacher, and ghost in the school. It was terrifying.

They stood on a sort of stage. At its center was a stool, and on top of the stool was an old wizard's hat. Several people jumped when it began to sing.

The song was all about the history of Hogwarts and the four houses, how each valued a different quality, and how they all worked together to unite as one. For many of the first years, it was the first time hearing about it. For Rowena, these were familiar bedtime stories.

When the hat stopped singing, Professor McGonagall called, "Elspeth Addison!"

A freckle-faced girl stepped forward.

"Sit down and put the hat on," Professor McGonagall told him.

She did as she was told.

"I'm glad I'm not first," whispered a boy behind Rowena and Alice.

After a few moments, the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

A table of students under a red and gold banner all cheered and welcomed her.

"It doesn't look so bad," said Alice.

Rowena agreed and waited her turn. She hoped Alice would be in her house. After all, she had been the one to point out that people sometimes differed from the rest of their families.

"Mitchell Bones," called Professor McGonagall.

"I'm Keith Rantipole," whispered the boy who was glad he wasn't first. "My father owns Speedster Brooms. Your brother told me he has one," he said, nodding at Alice.

"Be quiet over there," scolded Professor McGonagall.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" cried the Sorting Hat.

The students at the table under the yellow banner cheered.

"Dirk Cresswell," called Professor McGonagall.

"He's a mudblood," said Keith Rantipole. "I checked everyone out on the train."

Rowena and Alice looked at each other and took a few steps away from Keith Rantipole.

"Blood traitors!" he whispered at them.

"Shhhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall.

"RAVENCLAW!" called the Sorting Hat.

Rowena watched the cheering Ravenclaw students. She liked them already.

Several more students were called. After Keith Rantipole was sorted into Slytherin, Professor McGonagall called, "Rowena Rockrimmon!"

"Wish me luck," she said to Alice.

When the hat was placed on her head, everything disappeared from view. This was comforting in its way, as was the tiny voice whispering in her ear.

"Ahh, now here's something familiar. Raised in the family tradition, I see. A real thirst for knowledge and quite a creative streak, too. And you've got a fair bit of courage. Oh yes, a real little trooper. Does Gryffindor interest you? Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have always gotten on, you know. No? Knowledge always comes first, does it? All right, then, go join them at RAVENCLAW!"

The last word was shouted for all the hall to hear. The students under the blue banner were cheering. Rowena joined their table, and as soon as she settled herself in, she turned to watch Alice's sorting.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" called the hat.

Alice looked up as the Hufflepuffs welcomed her. Her brother cheered the loudest. Smiling, she joined the table, but on the side near Ravenclaw so she was able to lean over and whisper to Rowena, "I was almost made a Gryffindor."

"So was I."

And for the rest of her life, Rowena always felt it was the "almost Gryffindor" in each of them that made them such close friends.