Sunburned Country

Chapter 2

"Robes, check...ink and quills, check...broomstick, check...lucky Galleon, check..."

I went through the contents of my trunk one last time, rubbing sleep from my eyes with one hand as I pushed spell books, clothing and rolls of parchment aside with the other. It was seven o'clock in the morning, and I had been dragged out of bed by my mother barely ten minutes earlier. A frigid shower and a couple of pieces of toast later, I was dressed in my uniform - sans my robes, which would have to wait until I had arrived at school - and was performing a last-minute check of my belongings. Riley and I needed to be at Wollongong railway station by twenty past seven in order to catch the seven-thirty-five train to Bomaderry. This was no ordinary train, however - it was a special service commissioned from CityRail at the beginning and end of each term by the Ministry of Magic, on behalf of the school, that stopped at just four stations - Sydney Central, Wollongong, Dapto, and Bomaderry, which was where the South Coast line terminated. The aim, I supposed, was to centralise everyone in those four places, to make the transition from home to school a little easier. That, of course, hadn't stopped a certain younger brother from bawling his eyes out the previous year when he'd had to leave home behind for the first time.

"Morgan Michelle Braddock!" my father thundered, and I let fly a stream of particularly foul swear words. "We are running late - get down here now!"

I rolled my eyes and slammed my trunk closed, locking it with a tap of my wand. I then charmed it to be feather-light, grabbed my cloak from its hook and hurtled downstairs, dragging my trunk behind me as I ran.

"I sincerely hope that you have everything, Morgan, because there is no time to be looking for anything that you've left behind," Dad said as I raced into the kitchen, the soles of my shoes squeaking on the dark grey slate floor. He gave me a stern look before turning and walking through to the front door. I sighed, before snagging a peach from the fruit bowl and following my father outside, my trunk trailing along behind me.

One somewhat nerve-wracking car ride later - my father had somehow bribed my mother into allowing him to drive into the city, even though he didn't have a driver's licence - Riley and I stood outside Wollongong railway station with our backpacks and trunks sitting at our feet. It was almost twenty past seven, and already it was quite warm. Our parents had already left - Dad had to get ready for work, and Mum needed to get Candace ready for her first day of Year 3 at a local Muggle primary school. Selena had already left for work by the time Riley and I had been packed off to the train station.

An all-too-familiar scene greeted me as I stepped onto the platform and stacked my trunk and backpack with the others. One of my roommates was straddling her boyfriend, who was sitting on one of the benches that were spaced out along the platform, and the two of them were kissing rather passionately. The boyfriend had one of his hands up his girlfriend's rather short maroon skirt.

"Get a fucking room you two!" I said very loudly, having stepped up behind them. They broke apart, and I couldn't help but grin. The couple in question was Kilandra Armstrong, a fellow Wollongong resident, and her boyfriend Mark Osbourne, one of my fellow housemates and a resident of the city of Newcastle. Kilandra's normally neat, dark red curls were tangled, and Mark had bright red lipstick smeared across his mouth and chin. "Well, well, well...would you look what the kneazle dragged in."

"Hello to you too, Morgan," Mark said. He raised his hand for a high five, and I soundly slapped my hand against his. "How's that knee of yours?"

"Better," I replied. "Mum and I went to St. Althea's last week, and one of the Healers there said that a few of the ligaments had torn when the Bludger hit, but they hadn't knitted back together properly. She said to just keep doing the exercises that I was told to do after I'd hurt it, and to brace it every night until it's completely healed. I have to go back there during Easter break to have it looked at again."

The next fifteen minutes passed by quickly, and before I knew it the train had arrived - it was a Tangara, one that was eight carriages long. Those of us who had congregated at the station grabbed our backpacks and filed onto the train, finding seats in the already crowded carriages. I decided not to get too comfortable just yet - our next stop meant that we would need to change trains, as the railway line had not yet been electrified past Dapto. I managed to find myself a seat on the topmost level next to my brother and across from Kilandra and Mark, who had resumed their exploration of one another's assets. Seated on my other side, on the aisle, was who I assumed to be one of the new Grade Seven students, a young girl who wore her dark brown hair in two neat plaited pigtails. She was eyeing Kilandra and Mark with what I recognised as a combination of disgust and a healthy dose of suspicion.

I pulled my wand out of my right sock, aimed it at Kilandra's backside and cast a well-placed Stinging Hex. She shrieked and leapt at least half a foot into the air, and I chuckled before returning my wand to its usual place.

"We are in public, if you don't mind," I said as Mark shot me a look of pure venom. "Keep your hands to yourself or I'll hex them off."

"It didn't bother you before," Mark retorted as Kilandra sat herself down next to the window; she crossed her arms over her chest, glowering.

"Yeah, well, I'm not the only one here right now," I shot back. I nodded to the girl sitting beside me.

"Spoilsport," Kilandra muttered.

"Oh, you know you love me," I replied airily.

We changed trains at the next stop, and as I stepped onto the Endeavour and hurried to find a seat, I noted that the girl who I had previously been sitting beside had followed me. She sat herself down in the seat between me and the window and turned to look at me, giving me a small smile.

"Hi," I said. "Grade Seven?" She nodded and proceeded to pick at the hem of her skirt. "What's your name?"

"Ashley Dunham," she replied. "What's yours?"

"I'm Morgan Braddock. But most people call me Mor or Morrie."

She nodded again. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

Ashley fidgeted a little. "Of being in the wrong house," she said quietly.

Ah. I knew exactly how she felt. I had experienced the same feelings when I had taken my first journey to Twofold Bay as a twelve-year-old, accompanied by Serena, who had been sixteen at the time - the feeling of utter dread in the pit of my stomach when I had worried about being in the 'wrong' house, of bringing shame upon my family. It didn't matter that my father - a graduate himself of Twofold Bay School - had told me that there was no such thing as the 'wrong' house, because the house you were in reflected who you were as a person, I still couldn't help my feelings. But my father had been right, and the house I had been placed into had been a perfect fit.

"Ashley, there is no such thing as the 'wrong' house," I said. "All the houses at the school are just as good as each other. You're put into the house that fits you best. What house do your parents want you to be in?"

"Telford. All my family has been in that house, ever since the school started. And I don't want to make my parents mad at me." She cocked her head a little to one side. "What house are you in?"

"Chaldercot," I replied, unable to keep a hint of pride from colouring my tone. "I play Quidditch for the House team - I'm a Chaser."

"I love Quidditch!" Ashley said, sounding much happier. "I like the Townsville Taipans."

"Well, I support the Wollongong Warriors. And I hope you don't mind me saying, but the Taipans suck!"

"Morgan, what the hell are you sitting with the juniors for?"

I looked back over my shoulder to see roommate number four, Reagan Wright, standing in the aisle behind me. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at me.

"I see you dyed your hair again," I remarked.

"Like it?" she asked. She pulled one loosely-curled dark blonde lock of hair away from her head. It shone in the bright morning sunlight that streamed in through the train windows.

"You might want to dye your eyebrows as well next time."

Reagan let out a slightly annoyed groan and smacked her forehead with the palm of her left hand. "I knew there was something I forgot! God I am so blonde sometimes..."

The next hour passed without incident, the train flashing past station after station and the route hugging the coastline. At 9:09 am precisely, the train pulled into Bomaderry railway station, bringing the first part of the journey to a close.

"Please assemble in your House groups, students!" a voice shouted over the low hum of voices, not five minutes after we had disembarked. "Grade Sevens, please wait where you are until the rest of the students are lined up. We will leave for Eden as soon as roll call has been taken."

I pushed through the loosely-packed crowd of maroon and light blue, in search of my housemates, and found all but four of my fellow Grade Eleven students standing more or less right in the middle of the platform. In Chaldercot there were sixteen of us in total - eight boys, and eight girls. One of the boys had a set of headphones wedged over his closely cropped ash blonde hair; his eyes were closed, and he was nodding his head in time with the music I could hear drifting faintly out of the earpieces. I recognised him as Christian Jackson, one of Aaron and Mark's roommates. I reached out and clicked my fingers in front of his face, shrugging when he remained silent.

"All right everyone," the head teacher for Chaldercot, Mrs. Debenham, said as she stepped up to us. "As soon as I have marked all your names off, you may go and wait outside. Stephen Ackroyd?"

"Here."

"Kilandra Armstrong?"

Kilandra raised one hand, yanking her skirt down to where it belonged with her other. "Here."

"Morgan Braddock?"

"Here," I said.

"Aaron Clements?"

"Here, miss," Aaron drawled. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of his hands creeping up the back of Melania's blouse, toying with the clasps on the back of her black bra.

"Belle Driscoll?"

"She's not here miss; she'll be at the school already," Kilandra said.

"Yes, of course," Mrs. Debenham said. "Amanda Endicott?"

"School," Kilandra replied. "So're Bryan and Michael."

"Yes, thank you Miss Armstrong," Mrs. Debenham said. She marked these names off on her list. "Vanessa Franklin?"

"Here."

Natasha Hanson was marked next as being present. "Christian Jackson?" Mrs. Debenham asked, neglecting to notice that Christian was still plugged in. She repeated his name a couple more times, before Aaron reached over and poked Christian sharply in the ribs with his wand. Christian let out a loud yelp and shot a glare at Aaron, who jerked his head toward our head teacher.

"Oh, here," Christian said, sounding rather sheepish. Mrs. Debenham gave him a sharp look before continuing down the list.

Once the roll had been marked, ending with 'Reagan Wright', we were dismissed, and the twelve of us headed out to the front of the station. The usual five buses were parked there - one coach for each House, and a smaller minibus for the Grade Seven students and the teachers. Everyone had been told that the reason for segregating the new students from the current 'inmates' was so that the Grade Sevens could get to know the four head teachers, but we all knew better. We were separated so that none of us had any opportunity to persuade the 'newbies', as we called them, to choose one house over another. Not that it really bothered any of us. The completely unsupervised three-hour journey down the coast to Eden gave us the opportunity to have a bit of fun, well away from the disapproving gazes of our teachers. That fun, despite all our best efforts, usually ended up as a coach-wide rendition of 99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall, which tended to send the driver of the coach up the proverbial wall if the appropriate charms weren't cast before the revelry commenced. Which they usually weren't.

"So how's your knee?" Natasha asked; she was up on her knees on one of the seats in front of where I sat, facing me, her chin propped up on her crossed arms.

"Better than it was," I replied. "But it's still not completely better."

"Will you still be able to play this year?"

I shrugged. "I honestly don't know, but I hope I'll be able to. I'll have to see what happens when trials start."

"Fair enough," Natasha said, nodding. She turned around and sat back down in her seat.

I settled back in my seat and looked out of the window at the passing scenery. Just a few more hours, and I'd be back at school - and then the real fun could begin.

* * *

"Students, settle down please..."

The school auditorium was abuzz with the low hum of excited chatter. We had all arrived at Twofold Bay only four hours earlier, and had spent the time after lunch unpacking, exploring our new dormitories and reacquainting ourselves with our respective House compounds. Six weeks was quite a long time to be away from somewhere, and that included school. I was often amazed that I even remembered my way around the grounds after a month-and-a-half away.

I looked up at the stage at the front of the auditorium. An ornate wrought-iron arch, the front draped with a maroon velvet curtain, stood next to the lectern that the principal, Mr. Connelly, stood behind. The lectern was made of dark jarrah, the same material as the kitchen table at home, with the school crest carved into the front - the cross from the Eureka flag turned ninety degrees, with a waratah and two crossed sprigs of wattle placed directly in the centre. The school vice-principal, Mrs. Conway, sat on Mr. Connelly's other side. A row of seats fanned out from either side of the arch, where the rest of the teachers sat.

It took a few more minutes, but a blanket of silence eventually settled itself over the rows of seated students. "Thank you everyone," Mr. Connelly said once all was quiet. "In a few moments, we will welcome our newest students to the school. Until they are ready to join us, however, there are a few announcements I wish to make.

"As you are all most certainly aware, the annual inter-school Quidditch tournament between Twofold Bay and Southern Cross Academy will be taking place again this year. Following Southern Cross Academy's win in the tournament last year, this year's competition will be held at Southern Cross Academy during the spring holidays - that is, between September fifteenth and October first. More information will be posted in your House compound common areas in Term 2. Anyone who is interested in playing for their House team should leave their name and grade with their head teacher, who will pass it on to the team captain.

"Also, student council elections will be held next month. Anyone who wishes to nominate a fellow housemate for election to the council should leave that person's name and grade with their head teacher. Please note that your chosen nominee must be in your own House and grade to be eligible."

A hollow tapping sounded at the massive double doors at the rear of the auditorium, and Mr. Connelly grinned. "Students, please stand and welcome the newest members of our school community."

We all did so, and turned to face the rear of the hall, robes rustling and the soles of shoes squeaking on the floor as we moved as one. With one fluid wave of Mr. Connelly's hands, the doors swung wide open, and a line of students entered the auditorium, headed by the school captain, Miette Watkins from Grosvenor House, and the vice-captain, Orion Blake from Rathane House. They walked two abreast, alternating boys and girls, marching orderly up the centre aisle between the rows of chairs. As the head of the line passed by each row of chairs, that row of students turned to face the stage once more.

When Miette and Orion had reached the front row, they stepped forward and saluted. "The new Grade Sevens, sir," Miette said respectfully.

"Thank you, Miss Watkins and Mr. Blake," Mr. Connelly said. "You may both take your seats." He turned to Mrs. Conway. "Amalia?"

Mrs. Conway stood, picking up a roll of parchment as she did so. "The time has come for each of you to join your new housemates. The Sorting ceremony is a time-honoured tradition, one that has been a part of the school Opening since the school itself was established over two hundred years ago. I will call each of you up onto the stage, and you will then pass through the Sorting Arch." She indicated the arch beside her. "Once your House has been chosen, I will then direct you to your seat." She unfurled the scroll and read the first name. "Louisa Agnew."

A small girl with tumbling locks of light brown hair stepped out of her place and walked up to the left-hand side of the stage, and up to the back of the arch, seeming to pause a moment before disappearing from view. Mere moments later, a flash of bright, royal blue light lit up the stage, and the Sorting Arch's curtains parted. Louisa stepped through the Arch, allowing us to see the blue edging on her robes' hem and cuffs, and the blue six-pointed star that sat beneath the school crest on the left-hand side of her robes. A new star would be added at the beginning of each year - I myself had five, and would have the sixth and final star added next year. A resounding cheer sounded from the Chaldercot students as Louisa took her seat in the front row.

The rest of the ceremony passed in much the same fashion, the only difference being the different colours of light that flashed out from the Arch - blue for Chaldercot, green for Grosvenor, red for Rathane, and gold for Telford.

"Ashley Dunham."

I sat up straighter upon hearing that name, and I found myself crossing my fingers inside of my sleeves. I sincerely hoped that Ashley would find herself in the house that suited her best, not the one that followed family tradition. Secretly, I was hoping that she would join Chaldercot House, but it didn't really matter to me what her house turned out to be.

Ashley walked up onto the stage, disappearing behind the Arch, and a flash of blue light erupted from the Arch. Yes! I cheered silently. At the same time, a loud yell of anger erupted from the amassed Telford students - Ashley's siblings, I guessed. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw that Ashley looked stricken as she walked quickly off the stage and took her seat. I had the distinct feeling that she was going to get the mother of all Howlers the next morning.

"Oh dear," I murmured.

"What?" Reagan asked from beside me.

"Ashley's family tradition dictates that she should be in Telford," I replied. "She told me herself. And I'm guessing that because she's in Chaldercot, her family won't be too happy."

Forty-seven names later, ending with Sarah Young as the final new addition to Telford House, Mrs. Conway rolled up her scroll once again and returned to her seat. Mr. Connelly stood up again and stepped up behind the lectern.

"We are not quite finished yet," he said. "Please stand everyone, and we will sing the school song before you are all dismissed."

"The hell we will," I muttered, but I stood with my classmates despite the protestation from my knee. From nowhere, a violin began playing, and we began to sing as one.

"Poets write songs about flowers...blossoms that bloom in the spring...perhaps they have hidden powers...for each one a mem'ry will bring...

"You go to places the whole world over...no matter if it's near or far...but all their flowers will not entrance you...like the wattle and the waratah...

"You go to Holland to see the tulips...and you will say how sweet they are...but an Australian thinks there's no equal...to the wattle and the waratah...

"Scotland adores its heather, and England the rose...Ireland loves the shamrock, it's natural I suppose...but when you're strolling along a highway...and you're beneath a southern star...there's not a flower in any setting...like the wattle and the waratah...

"You go to places the whole world over...no matter if it's near or far...but all their flowers will not entrance you...like the wattle and the waratah...wattle and the waratah...wattle and the waratah...wattle and the waratah..."

Mr. Connelly nodded, seemingly in approval. "Thank you everyone. That was most impressive. You are all dismissed - you may return to your compounds until dinner. Grade Sevens, please remain behind until the older students have all left, and your head teachers will show you the way to your respective House compounds."

I stood with my classmates and headed out of the auditorium, making my way to the back entrance of the main building and towards Chaldercot compound. Classes hadn't even started yet, but one thing was for sure.

It was going to be one hell of a good year.