Briallen Bevin and the Snatcher's Cave

Chapter 3: The Start of Something New

Meda stood next to the cold fireplace in the family room, wringing her hands nervously. Even after all she had learned of the wizarding world and what could be done with magic, she still didn't believe Cal Bevin when he said he would arrive by floo to pick up Briallen for their shopping trip. When Cal had first told Meda about floo travel, she had thought he had sneezed and offered him a tissue. When he explained that floo travel meant traveling through fireplaces, she had nearly choked on her after-dinner coffee. A week and a half later and she still wasn't sure that he hadn't been joking with her but she waited by the fireplace anyway.

"Relax, Mom. Grandpa won't be here for another ten minutes," said Briallen casually as she flipped through the copy of YW: Young Witch magazine that her grandfather had sent her. "Oh, no! Max Cotterhill broke up with Brenda Lance!"

"What?"

"Max is a professional Quodpot player and Brenda Lance is a singer... I've never heard of them before but this picture really makes me feel sorry for Brenda - look, she's crying!"

Meda sat down next to Briallen and looked over at the magazine. Then she screamed.

Will Bevin, who was outside behind the house repairing his riding lawnmower, froze when he heard the sound. He looked around the yard, thinking that perhaps another goose had gotten stuck in the mesh fence around the chicken coop. Seconds later, he realized it was his wife screaming. He tore off for the house, tearing open the sliding door with a wrench in his hand, ready to fight whatever it was that frightened his wife.

When he reached the family room, though, he didn't find any intruder. His wife and daughter sat on the couch, laughing. "What's going on?" demanded Will, still holding the wrench.

"Mom didn't know wizard photographs move and I showed her a picture and then it moved and so she screamed," explained Briallen in one breath. "It was really funny."

Will Bevin frowned and shook his wrench. "I thought you were in trouble, Meda!"

Meda stood and walked to her husband. "And you rushed in here ready to rescue me," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. "My hero."

Briallen immediately brought her eyes down to her magazine as her parents kissed, not wanting to see their overt affection but feeling happy that they were no longer angry with each other. Her parents hardly ever fought so when they did it always scared her.

She examined the photograph of Brenda Lance in an attempt to ignore her parents. Brenda looked young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, with long blonde hair that had multiple purple streaks. Briallen wondered how pretty Brenda really was, unable to tell because of the crying girl's puffy eyes and red cheeks. He must've been really mean when he broke up with her if she's crying like that, thought Briallen. Or she's just a great big baby.

She flipped the page to look at the picture of Maximus Cotterhill. He was flying around the photo on a broom but was so far in the distance that Briallen couldn't get a good look at him. She was so focused on trying to look at Cotterhill that when the green flames suddenly appeared in the fireplace, she dropped the magazine and fell out of her seat in shock.

"Good morning!" announced Cal brightly as he popped out of the Bevins' fireplace. "How is everybody today?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure my heart stopped for a few seconds," muttered Will as he glared at his father. He still hadn't forgiven Cal for erasing his memory of magic and for lying to him for so long. "Briallen mentioned that you're meeting Matilda and her family today. Tell them I hello for me."

"You and Meda are welcome to come along, William. Then you could say hello to your cousin yourself. You've never met her husband or children. I'm sure you'd get along very well." Cal turned to Briallen. "Your father and Matilda were close as children - you've never seen such a mess as those two could make!"

"Well, I'm busy today so - best not," said Will haltingly. "Meda and I need to run Petersburg to get some - some special feed for the hogs. They're ill."

Cal stared at his son. He knew Will was lying but went along with it anyway to avoid a possible argument. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure Briallen and I won't have as much fun without you and Meda."

Meda stepped forward to Briallen and began fixing her hair and straightening her shirt. Briallen did her best to resist but gave up quickly, knowing she would never get out of the house until her mother felt she looked appropriately presentable. "Don't spend all your grandpa's money and remember, Briallen: be nice, be polite - remember you manners and please, please don't go pushing random buttons or breaking anything."

"Mom! I don't have a thing for buttons anymore, really!" said Briallen through clenched teeth. Meda sighed and went back to her husband's side.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Meda. Don't worry. We'll be back in time for dinner at seven," ensured Cal as he removed a pouch from somewhere inside his jacket. "This is the floo powder I told you about Briallen. Take a handful - that's it. Now, you want to toss the powder into the fireplace and say, very clearly, the name of your destination. We're going to Habory Lane... if you say it correctly you should land in O'Doyle's pub. This is just like how we discussed it."

"And if she doesn't say it right?" asked Meda nervously.

"She'll still end up in Habory Lane, no doubt, just not at O'Doyle's. Probably in a nearby shop or restaurant. No worries, though, I have friends looking out for her. Go on now, Briallen!"

Before Meda could stop her, Briallen had tossed the floo powder into the fireplace, shouted 'Habory Lane' and stepped inside. She was gone in moments. Will tried to sooth his wife, who nearly hyperventilating, by rubbing her back and telling her to calm down. Seconds later, Cal had followed Briallen and disappeared into the fireplace as well. Even though Will was angry with his father, he knew Cal would do everything possible to keep her out of harm's way and so he was taking his father and daughter's dramatic departure much better than his wife.

"Don't worry, Meda, she'll be alright," he whispered to his anxious wife.

"But - the fireplace!"

"I know, but no matter how angry I am with my father at the moment, he would never hurt Briallen..."

"I know that! It's just so - so dirty in there!"

Meda rushed to the once again cold fireplace and immediately began to clean it out, not wanting her daughter to get any messier.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Briallen spun quickly through the floo network and was beginning to feel nauseous. She couldn't keep her eyes closed however, as every time she passed a fireplace she could see through it and many of the fireplaces she passed seemed to belong to wizarding families. Having never known a wizarding family, the brief glimpses she caught fascinated her. Children on mini-broomsticks, brooms sweeping floors by themselves, and two cats playing checkers were just a few of the magical scenes she witnessed. When she finally popped out at her destination, she was almost disappointed, though her stomach was greatly relieved.

"Briallen Bevin?" asked a chubby balding man in glasses. He offered her a hand and as he pulled her up she nodded. "Thought so. Let me help you - Scourgify!"

The soot that had been covering Briallen seemed to have disappeared. Briallen felt her jeans and her shirt, feeling for soot, but it really was gone and she was clean. She was amazed.

"Thank you, Alvis! Care to give me a once over as well, please?" asked Cal, suddenly appearing next to Briallen.

"Not a problem, Cal - Scourgify!" said the chubby man brightly before then putting away his wand in the large knapsack he carried.

"Thank you for meeting Briallen here, Alvis. Briallen," said Cal, turning to his granddaughter. She turned her attention away from a table full of chatty young witches and warlocks and looked at her grandfather. "This is Alvis Montignac, a good friend of mine and a professor at Bergamot. He teaches Ancient Runes and is our new head of house for Almerick."

"Ah, nice to meet you Mr. Montignac," said Briallen politely. "You teach Ancient Runes? I was thinking of taking that class."

"Oh, wonderful! We can discuss runes on the way to Verudite's, if you like - Munin Mimir is signing his latest book, a thesis on the discovery of runes in rural Indonesia and their importance in magical history - fascinating topic, really, and a fascinating man. You know, we had the best conversation on the application of sigils in Caribbean herbology last summer. It's made me re-think my course outline for my year seven students - "

"Actually, Alvis, Briallen has an appointment with Mrs. Penny soon. Perhaps we can meet you later."

"Oh, of course. I'll probably be at Verudite's all day!" said Professor Montignac with a laugh.

"Before you go, have you heard from Miss. Winsome?" asked Cal in hushed tones.

"Erm, no, I'm afraid not. She still hasn't been reached?"

"No, and Leto can't seem to find her. Nobody knows where she's gone to."

"How unlike her! You know, I was shocked to learn that she had decided to leave for the summer... maybe she had a family emergency?"

Cal hummed and nodded his head while Alvis Montignac merely shrugged. A moment later the two men shook hands and jovially said their good-byes as if they hadn't been talking about anything serious at all. Cal then turned to Briallen, a large smile on his face and said, "Ready to see Habory Lane?"

Briallen immediately forgot about her grandfather's strange conversation and nodded enthusiastically. "Mrs. Penny's is where I get my school clothes, right?"

"Where you'll be fitted at least. You'll receive one generic black robe to be worn before your sorted. You'll return that at the end of your first night at Bergamot and the next day your school robes for whichever house you're sorted into, will arrive."

Briallen, who had planned on asking Cal about school houses next went quiet when they stepped out of O'Doyle's and into Habory Lane. Standing on a raised porch, Briallen and Cal were able to look down onto the main stretch of Habory Lane. Her grandfather had explained that Habory Lane was shaped much like a magnifying glass in that the cobblestone street went straight and then in a large circle. From where she was standing, Briallen could see where the two ends of the circle met and it was at that joining where the largest crowd of people seemed bustle.

"Come along, Briallen, we don't want to be late for your fitting. Would you like me to hold your hand?" asked Cal. Briallen was overwhelmed by the blatant use of magic but she shook her head; she didn't want to risk any future classmates see her holding her grandfather's hand like a little girl.

Cal nodded and started off down the cedar steps. Looking around at all of the witches and wizards bustling past them, Briallen seriously reconsidered her grandfather's offer but settled on holding onto the end of jacket as she trailed behind him.

She was only just realizing that the idea of magic had never really sunk into her until just then, as she walked down Habory Lane. She was surrounded by real witches and wizards, many of whom were in either the full wizard garb of robes and pointed hats or some manner thereof. A large portion were in Muggle-clothing though as well. Owls were flying all over, inanimate objects were floating from one side of the street to the other, kids were flying through and above the crowds on brooms, and small children were crying for their parents to buy something called puffskeins.

"Won't regular people notice this?" asked Briallen as they passed a shop where every few seconds an explosion followed by laughter could be heard.

"Not at all. There's a cloaking spell covering all of Habory Lane and we're in wizard space right now - to Muggles, the alley that serves as the manual entrance to Habory Lane is no bigger than three or four feet, but magic can expand that space to hold, for example, the entirety of Habory Lane."

"We're in an alley?"

"We are. Next to O'Doyle's is the main entrance to Habory Lane. To Muggles it looks like a simple brick wall but with a wand, a witch or wizard merely needs to tap a certain combination of bricks to enter Habory Lane. We're snuggled between a diner and movie-rental store."

Briallen nodded, still looking at everything around her, trying to take in as much as possible. She had come out from behind Cal Bevin and was now walking beside him. A sudden flash of brilliant color behind her caught her attention and just as Briallen turned her head to look at what was the cause she was knocked to the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said a girl who looked about Briallen's age and was on the ground in front of her.

Surrounding the two girls were several large books, one of which had landed corner-wise on Briallen's knee. As Briallen rubbed her knee, wincing, she shook her head and said, "No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Are you both alright?" asked Cal with concern as he helped Briallen and the other girl up.

The girl Briallen had knocked down nodded and then suddenly her eyes widened and she smiled at Cal. "Dean Bevin! I don't know if you remember me - "

"Marisol Escudero: Alfonso and Zofia's daughter. I just received an announcement this morning that your sister, Moraima, had been born. I'd like to offer my congratulations to you and your parents - you're a sister now, how wonderful!" said Cal as he looked around for Marisol's parents. "Are your parents around?"

"They just ran into the stationery store for a moment to pick up more cards to announce Moraima's arrival," said Marisol rather tightly. "I decided I'd rather visit Gambol & Japes."

Briallen got the feeling that Marisol wasn't as happy with Moraima's birth as Cal thought she was and Briallen could understand why. She wouldn't be happy to suddenly get a little brother or sister after years of being an only child either.

"Ah, you're not purchasing anything that will get you into too much trouble, are you?" joked Cal.

"She had better not be!" said a petite woman who was walking towards them. Just behind her was a handsome man carrying an infant in his arms. "Open the bag, Marisol - ahora, por favor." With a sigh of annoyance, Marisol opened the brown paper bag she had been holding and shoved towards her mother. "More stink pellets and belch powder? I don't want you letting those things off near Moraima and if you put any of that belch powder in her milk... mi hija, you will be grounded until you're thirty... Professor Bevin! How nice to see you!"

The woman who was obviously Zofia Escudero, Marisol's mother, moved to the side to shake Cal's hand, as did the man she was with. Marisol looked at Briallen and rolled her eyes. "They've been threatening to ground me until I'm thirty twice a day since Moraima was born."

Briallen smiled and laughed. "My parents have been threatening me with that for years."

"So you know Dean Bevin?" asked Marisol as she moved a little further away from the adults and began to look around at the crowd, as if she were looking for somebody she knew.

"He's my grandpa... and I'll be going to Bergamot this year. It's my first year," said Briallen, feeling slightly embarrassed at admitting how new she was. She was sure Marisol was a few years older and just waiting for an excuse to get away from her.

But Marisol didn't laugh at Briallen. She jumped up and down a few times in what seemed to be excitement and then suddenly hugged Briallen. "Me too! You're the first girl I've met who's my age and going to Bergamot too! All of my friends are going to Glen Haven but my parents went to Bergamot and, you know, tradition and all that. Hey, what house do you think you'll be sorted into?"

"Oh, um, I really - "

Marisol interrupted, to the relief of Briallen who knew nothing about the Bergamot houses, "I just know I'll be in Wenlock because both my mom and dad were in Wenlock. Usually families are all in the same house; do you have any family that's gone to Bergamot? Your parents?"

"No, my parents - they're both - they don't do magic," said Briallen, unsure of what exactly to say about her parents. "My dad's a quid."

"A quid?" asked Marisol, confused. "Oh, no - you mean he's a squib!" Marisol suddenly paused and then seemed to move on as she released what Briallen could only describe as a squeal of what was probably excitement again. "Do you know what electives you're taking yet?"

Relieved to finally be able to answer one of Marisol's questions with the utmost certainty, Briallen nodded. "I've decided on Elemental Magic and Ancient Runes. I've met the Ancient Runes professor already - Alvis Montignac. He seemed really nice and really excited about runes. I read a bit about them in my YW magazine, about how they can be used to tell the future - "

"Runes are practically useless when it comes to fortune telling, you know. Divination in general is a pretty silly topic," clucked Marisol. "They're best for codes and security and enhancing long-term charms, which is really what is most fascinating about them and is why I'm taking that class too. We should so sit next to each other and be study buddies!"

"Okay," agreed Briallen. She couldn't believe she had managed to make a friend already. In seven years of elementary school she had never managed to make a real friend. Then again, it was Marisol who had initiated everything but still, now Briallen felt confident that things would be different in a good way at Bergamot.

And then, suddenly again, Marisol let out a squeal of excitement as she pulled Briallen close to her until they were almost in a huddle. "See those two girls over there? The blonde ones by Primary Pets?"

Briallen look across the street at the pet store where two young, and very pretty, blond girls stood in front of one of the pet shop windows, looking at the kittens on display. One was very tall and wore a black and blue cloak with a badge on the front that Briallen couldn't make out. The other girl was short and wore no cloak. Briallen had noticed other kids in Habory Lane wearing various types of cloaks with badges and recognized them as school cloaks for all of the badges had the name of a school on them.

"Those two are the Astly sisters: the tall one is Belinda, she's a fourth year at Bergamot, in Platt, and the other one is Belphoebe, she'll be starting at Bergamot same as us. My dad and their dad work at the Ministry of Magic together and we've met at, you know, Ministry functions like holiday parties and fundraisers. They're snobby little brats - and you know Platt is where the meanest, darkest, cruelest and most ruthless witches and wizards are sorted to. Their whole family's been in Platt, since the school was built like, hundreds of years ago."

Marisol was glaring at the sisters and she had spoken so quickly and quietly that Briallen had had to pay extra-close attention just to catch everything Marisol had said. She knew nothing about the Bergamot houses and didn't really even understand the concept of a school 'house' but she understood everything else. According to Marisol, these two girls were very mean. Suddenly Briallen felt Marisol grab her hand and in it she dropped what look like several small brown pebbles.

"These are stink pellets. When you throw them, they let off this awful stink, like a really bad fart. Let's throw them at the sisters! Quick, before my parents or Dean Bevin notice what we're up to!" whispered Marisol urgently.

Without really thinking about it, Briallen moved closer to the sisters and casually and discreetly tossed the pellets towards them. She knew it was mean but Marisol had made it sound like Belinda and Belphoebe really deserved it. Within seconds a horrible smell wafted through the air, and it came from the sisters' direction. The witches and wizards who passed the sisters stared at them, either disgusted or amused. The girls themselves looked horrified and instantly, the older sister, Belinda, stepped away from her younger sister, Belphoebe. Belphoebe shook her head and ran into the pet shop, looking on the verge of tears.

The look on Marisol's face was one of pure delight, noticed Briallen, who was also feeling good about Belinda and Belphoebe's dilemma. That is, until Belinda, who obviously realized the source of the smell was stink pellets and was surveying the crowd to see who could have thrown them, spotted them. Belinda's eyes narrowed as she stared at Marisol and Briallen, both of whom had stopped smiling. "I think she knows it was us," muttered Marisol. In seconds, she had shook off the worry of having been noticed and was her normal chirpy self again. "She'll try to get back at us in school but I'll be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" asked Cal Bevin. He and the Escudero's had finished their conversation and caught the last bit of Marisol and Briallen's conversation.

Marisol was quick, though. "For the coldest day or a formal party if I had a fur cloak with diricawl feathers and silver talon clasps, like the one that Brenda Lance wore to the Ministry's tree-lighting ceremony last year."

Alfonso Escudero shook his head, though he was smiling. "A six-hundred galleon cloak? I don't think so, mi hija. But you can save up your allowance and maybe in about ten years you'll be able to afford it yourself."

"Ha-ha, Dad," said Marisol dully.

"Are you ready to go, Marisol? Moraima's getting fussy. I think she's ready for a nap," said Zofia, patting the baby's back gently.

Marisol rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Briallen - I'll send you an owl, alright? And we can plan on where to meet in The Village so that we can get a boat together."

Briallen didn't understand what Marisol meant by getting a boat but she nodded and waved good-bye to her new friend.

Cal waved good-bye as well and then turned to Briallen. "I'm glad to see you're already making friends. I think you'll find it easier to meet kids more like yourself at Bergamot... however - I don't want you to feel... desperate for company, Briallen. There are nearly one thousand students at Bergamot and you're sure to meet many that have the same interests as you. I don't want you to feel as if you need to do certain things you normally wouldn't do or be somebody you're not just so that a few of them like you."

Briallen looked down at her feet as they entered Mrs. Penny's Preferred Robes. She knew her grandfather knew what she and Marisol had done. She knew she should feel ashamed but she didn't; she was sure those girls deserved it and, besides, it was just a harmless prank. So what if everybody near the Astley sisters thought they were gaseous?

"You know what I've just realized?" asked Cal, smartly changing the subject. "I haven't told you about the Bergamot houses just yet."

"Marisol mentioned some," said Briallen as she looked around the crowded store. There were very few people inside but every shelf was stuffed with fabrics of all different colors and patterns while all of the wall space was stuffed with racks of robes of various sizes, lengths and designs. "She said her parents were in Wenlock and that she hoped to be in Wenlock and... and she mentioned Platt. She said Platt was for only the meanest, darkest witches and wizards. Is that true?"

Cal's brow furrowed and he toyed with a pocket-watch that dangled from a thin, silver chain attached to his waistcoat. "It is true that many dark witches and wizards were sorted into Platt, more so than from any of the other houses at least. But a penchant for the dark arts is not what characterizes Platt. Platts are ambitious and driven, if a bit callous. They're not above cheating or using subversive means to achieve their ends and so are seen as cruel. However, many Platts have gone on to be successful politicians and community leaders because of their ambition and their drive to get things done. Sometimes it is those people we find... impenitent... that are best suited to lead us because of their strong will and willingness to fight."

"So willing to fight that they go and start wars!" chirped a tiny woman with wild gray-streaked ringlets. For the first time in her life, Briallen thought she saw her grandfather roll his eyes. The tiny woman seemed not to notice. "Most Platts are mean. But everybody deserves a chance, as they say, or two or three or a dozen or whatever. Anyway, nothing really comes of most of them. And usually you can tell who the real trouble-makers are. Like that Carey Stone and his family! Slytherin or Platt, all of them. I just fitted his grandson for Bergamot robes this morning. Platt, through and through. The little whelp wouldn't even feign to acknowledge me! You know, Norah was telling me just the other day that the Ministry is conducting a secret investigation of Carey Stone's financial history to see if he was helping to fund You-Know-Who."

Briallen liked the talkative little witch, who was obviously Mrs. Penny. She had never met an adult who spoke so bluntly about everything and everybody.

"Cecilia, if the Ministry were conducting a secret investigation against anybody, trust me, you would know nothing of it. Carey Stone is a well-respected member of the wizarding community and a known benefactor to many charities, including those charities that support the victims of, ah - those years," said Cal in a tone that strange to Briallen. He reminded her of a robot just then, as if he had been programmed to say all of that about Carey Stone. "Besides, I've met his grandson as well. Without Carey's presence he's a quiet boy who keeps mostly to himself. He doesn't have any of Carey's - erm - charisma. I don't expect him to be a problem at all."

Mrs. Penny clucked her disagreement and leaned back on the short, square heels of her old-fashioned boots. "Just watch and wait. He's just like his grandfather. Speaking of spitting images, is this your boy's little one? Hi, there, sweetie! How are you? Oh, you got a nice tan this summer! Excited to be starting at Bergamot soon?" Briallen nodded and smiled and didn't bother to mention that her tan was due to genetics and not the sun. "Do you think you know what house you'll be in? If you're anything like you're grandfather, here, I think you'll be seeing a sword at the staff! I was in Wenlock, myself. Oh, I miss those days so much sometimes! That's why I love this time of year - fitting all the new students, you know, and helping to usher in each new generation of young witches and wizards. Of course, I don't just fit Bergamot students. I work with most of the wizarding schools in the United States, you know, - oh, just step up here, sweetie - and one school in Canada."

"Wow, that's neat," said Briallen as she stood on a platform surrounded by three large mirrors. A measuring tape took her measurements, by itself, while Mrs. Penny continued talking and occasionally draped various fabrics over Briallen's shoulders, declaring that every color and pattern looked magnificent with Briallen's complexion (obviously hoping to convince Cal to purchase more than just school robes for Briallen).

Cal, clearly bored, walking away to speak with another older woman after a few minutes of listening to Mrs. Penny's suggestions. Mrs. Penny didn't seem to be offended by Cal's absence, however; in fact she seemed pleased by it. Turning her attention back to Briallen, she began to speak in hushed tones.

"So Cal was telling you about the houses, well, let me tell you the truth: Platts are no good, just stay away from them altogether. They're only trouble. Wenlocks are geniuses - very studious, you know, but most aren't much fun. I was fun, in my days though, you know, I threw the parties everybody wanted to go to! Oh, I was just so popular. Norah Briar, formerly Selby, and I were like queens. She somehow ended up getting Head Girl over me though. And Summerbees are, for the most part, pretty sweet, though they're not always the sharpest bowtruckles in the tree, if you get my drift! I swear, quite a few of them must've fallen off the back of a broom more than once as a child. Absolutely harmless, though, really. I had quite a few good friends in Summerbee: hard-working and loyal, that's a Summerbee. Bzz, bzz! You know, like a bumblebee!

"Almericks, on the other hand, are just - I used to wish the sorting staff had placed me in Almerick. Most of the 'hippest' kids get sorted there. The books say Almericks are known for their courage and, you know, I think they're right! I've never known a Almerick to turn down a challenge out of cowardice. Oh, I had such a thing for this one Almerick boy, he was two years ahead of me and just absolutely dreamy, well - Dean Graves was in charge then and he was just the grumpiest old man! Nothing like your grandpa Cal, here, who's really barrels of laughs! Anyway, he was dared by some nasty Platt to put a chilly jinx on Dean Graves and he did it! Dean Graves walked around with a blizzard over his head for almost an entire hour! It was the funniest thing I've ever seen!

"Then there's... what houses have I covered so far?" asked Mrs. Penny, who briefly stopped talking but not moving.

"Platt, Wenlock, Summerbee, and Almerick," said Briallen in an absent-minded sort of way. She was still trying to picture how her grandfather was apparently a 'barrel of laughs,' according to Mrs. Penny.

"Ah, yes! Finally, there's Withers. Well, what is there to say about Withers? You know, it's a pretty recent house. The others, Platt, Wenlock, Summerbee and Almerick, are the original houses but, what with how large America got and how popular Bergamot became, Bergamot had to add an extra house just to have someplace to put all those kids! It's sort of considered the, you know, all-over house. If a kid doesn't seem to lean in any particular direction, like they're not really mean, or smart, or kind, or brave, or anything, then they're put in Withers. We used to call them the 'unsortables,' you know, as a joke. You really never know what sort of person a Withers is, unless they come right out and tell you, I suppose, and that makes a lot of witches and wizards uncomfortable. You won't hear people say it, necessarily, but a lot of parents would rather see their kid go into Platt than Withers!"

"Oh, hush now with your nonsense, Cecilia! The Withers house is just as respected and accepted as the others. Many excellent witches and wizards were Withers, such as our current Minister," said Cal forcefully. Briallen hadn't noticed him return and jumped in surprise, getting her leg pricked with a needle in the process. "The separations between the houses are not nearly as noticeable these days, anyhow. It no longer matters what house a student is in - we pretty much just assign them numbers, one through five, for the most part."

"I think the sorting staff would disagree," said Mrs. Penny, her lips pursed.

"Who are the sorting staff?" asked Briallen. She had been paying close attention to everything Mrs. Penny said, even though she kept her eyes on the needle that worked itself in and out of the black cloth wrapped around her ever since she'd been poked. It made her nervous that nobody was holding the needle - it was moving by itself - and she wondered how it knew where her arm was and how it managed to avoid pricking her. Just to be safe, she refused to move even a centimeter until it was finished.

"Not who, sweetie, what. The sorting staff is a giant brass staff with a sort of crystal ball at the top, filled with opaque, white mist. When an unsorted student touches it, the mist changes to the main color of the house the student has been sorted in and then the crystal projects that house's symbol above the dining hall for everybody to see. It's really very neat. I used to love watching the sorting ceremony. Norah and I used to try to guess what house the new first years would go to - I was very good at it, you know. You'll definitely be an Almerick, Briallen."

Mrs. Penny then suddenly pulled off all of the fabric draped on Briallen. The needle and measuring tape disappeared in a pop.

"Are we through here, then?" asked Cal, though it came off as more of a demand than a question. "We still have to purchase all of her supplies."

"I'm done," said Mrs. Penny cheerfully. "You should bring your son over next time! I've just been dying to meet him - I hear he's quite handsome."

Briallen raised an eyebrow at Mrs. Penny's last comment as she and her grandfather headed towards the front door of the store.

"Some other time, perhaps," said Cal as they left. Once they were out of earshot, Cal spoke again. "I don't want you to take anything Mrs. Penny told you too seriously; she likes to... exaggerate."

"I liked her. She was friendly and funny," said Briallen. In all honesty, Mrs. Penny had made her nervous with her explanation of the sorting and the houses. She truly hoped that she would end up in Almerick, like Mrs. Penny said she would.

Cal cleared his throat. Obviously, he wasn't as fond of Mrs. Penny as Briallen. "Well, we still need to pick up all of your course books, cauldron, scales, telescope, and potion vials. We'll get your potion kit, gloves, and winter and rain cloaks in Diagon Alley. Have you decided what electives you would like to take?"

"Yes - I want to take Ancient Runes and Elemental Magic. Marisol said she's taking Ancient Runes too! She said we can be study buddies."

"That was friendly of her," said Cal as held open the door to a shop full of metal instruments such as scales and telescopes. "And I'm sure Professor Montignac will be please to have you both in his class."