Secrets Best Left Forgotten

Prologue:

A dark moon hung low in the sky, as if the night itself bled closer to morning, and still the two men fought. One, clothed in bright garb and brandishing an intricate wand of pearl and willow, he blazed with an unnatural light akin to the coming dawn itself. His screams and cries writhed together into complex incantations that loosed terrible charms upon his adversary. Some snaked along and, thundering, shook the ground while others caused ripples of heat and cold. The other man, clothed in ragged black robes literally stolen from the darkened crypts of the most powerful deceased wizards, wore dangling from his collar and belt countless talismans of flesh and bone; he held a wand of polished finger bones jointed by copper and brass bindings. From his wand was thrown horrid specters and the very materialized essences of death, plague and fear, all to assault the senses and soul of his righteous foe.

Between the two men who fought tooth and nail lay a man's body. Alongside it a child's, wrapped in the same sort of shroud as that which made up the dark wizard's cloak. This injured man yet drew breath, but each was becoming more shallow and faint in the cold night air. Despite the best efforts of the brightly robed wizard, he was quickly dying.

'Inumen Mortuuestat!'

'Arcanan Incanto!'

Flames crackled and scarred the landscape; ill winds blew from the depths of the abyss, flaring and churned against the others long, white beard. Each gust drove the life from everything they brushed against. Finally, heavy with the dark magic that he had conjured, and with a terrible tumultuous crack, the fabric of the earth herself opened up and swallowed the dark wizard as the full force of Karma was brought blazing down upon his body. Grindlewald, prince of the Darkest of Souls, was gone, and Dumbledore, arguably the most potent wizard now left living, was the victor.

Chapter One

The cavernous chamber of Hogwarts banquet room was dimly lit, and the droopy, tattered hat that hung loosely over the face of young August Grendle obscured what light was still visible. Unsure of exactly how long she had been sitting there atop the stool, she suddenly became aware of exactly how many faces gazed at her expectantly. Hundreds, maybe more, shared the same blank expression that she did as they awaited the decision of the enchanted hat that sat poise atop her head. She, more than anyone else, was anxious to hear its decision.

'All in all, this is wasted time really since the hat will see my family's history of membership in Hufflepuff and throw me down into that house without a second thought. I just wish. . .' she whispered, giving in to frustration, 'I wish that even for one moment I could break away from them and find myself.' Her attention was now drawn to the fidgeting hat above her brow. It was moving about, at if straining to hear her thoughts and murmurs in more clarity; not entirely sure whether or not it had in fact discerned anything, she settled herself more comfortably on the stool not at all sure how much longer it would take to make it's decision. The faces of her siblings, Hufflepuffs, all of them, were transfixed as the hat finally spoke up and made its decision known: "RAVENCLAW," it bellowed, setting a horrible echo loose upon the crowd. It had been so loud indeed that it had made her jump and it left her ears ringing even after professor McGonagall had lifted it gingerly from her head.

August was in shock; never before had a Grendle been placed anywhere but in the home of the Fat Friar, and even though she had silently wished for just this sort of thing, it was almost more than she could bear to imagine that her prayer had been answered.

Rising, she caught the confused, exasperated expressions of her twin siblings Marcy and Justin, both fourth years, as their clear blue eyes glanced back and forth, hands shielding startled whispers. Beckham, her eldest brother and the prefect of Hufflepuff, wasn't making eye contact. She hadn't expected him to, and a small part of her suspected that this brother, with whom she had never really gotten along, was secretly pleased that the hat had dropped her into another house. She made her way to the Ravenclaw table amid hoops and cheers, shaking hands with any number of students of the first and second years as she went. She took a seat near the front of the lengthy table, met warm smiles with her own, and saved a seat for her best friend who was yet to be sorted.

Christa, it seemed, was a long ways off, mixed in the milling crowd of children in the line still awaiting sorting, and so August fell into a sort of dreamy contemplation of the day's events secure in the knowledge that it could take a while for Christa's turn to be up. A slow, uneasy glance back at the Hufflepuff table caught the eyes of Justin, who nodded weakly before turning his attention back to the endless procession of students to the hat. She turned back to the table of Ravenclaws, surprised by the renewed hollering that met the arrival of a new student; 'Adam O'Rielly' had been his name. At least she'd caught that much, but judging by the arrogant strut to the young man's gait, she didn't feel it was likely that the two would get along terribly well. Although she was generally a tolerant, open-minded individual, (that came from growing up amid a motley crew of near and distant relations hanging on the bell at all hours), but she simply could not be bothered to suffer an arrogant individual. There were simply better things to do than tend to the ego of some prissy little dick.

He sat down opposite, and brushed his blond hair behind his ear. Although certainly handsome, August couldn't help but notice that his shoulder length locks and thin face made him look disturbingly feminine even for someone of his age. Not to mention that his nose was particularly screwed up, with a disturbing 45-degree angle bend to it. She let out a chuckle and began pawing uncomfortably at her fork, all too aware that she was still the subject of his attentions.

She yawned; as exciting as it certainly had been, the day had been long and drawn out. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, which was significantly less soft than her seat on the Hogwarts express. She recalled the view of the sunset from her window. It had been so beautiful, with the warm colours that the setting sun had set burning across the horizon. It had been magnificent, cooling gradually to even shades of pale and navy blue. Even the forest, a soft carpet of emerald and sapphire that had met her every glance as far as her eyes were able to see, had seemed oddly surreal amid the dying sun. The scene had been almost eerie in some fleeting way, as though the earth herself were passing on, sending the last rays of the sun to some distant tomb on the horizon.

She chuckled. "Honestly, Is everything I think as weakly poetic as that?" she cupped her face in her hands, silently embarrassed that she had been so dramatic in reliving those last few moments of the train ride to Hogwarts. "Beck's right, I really am a drama queen."

The resounding voice of Professor McGonagall reverberated the name of another student (was his last name 'Storty or Story?' she wondered, and looked him over in a half-assed sort of way as he sat perched on the stool. She quietly hoped that something in his demeanor or expression would clarify his name).

'Don't I know that guy?' she wondered, interest in the festivities giving way to boredom. No sooner had the thought left her mind, however, then the hat opened its wide tear of a mouth and boom, 'Well, off to Hufflepuff with you!!'

Beckham, her self-proclaimed heartless bastard of a brother, rose and shook the young man's hand fervently as he approached the Hufflepuff table; she was almost certain that this display had been more for her benefit than Storty's ('or was it Story?!'). The wayward glances of her siblings Marcy and Justin confirmed her assumption and she could only imagine the language that they were throwing his way as they urged him to stop making a scene. 'Not very Hufflepuffian, guys; what was all that crap about your being kind hearted and true? I don't think mom and pop would approve of the language at any rate.'

She thought back to the proud waves of her parents as she had pulled away from platform nine and three quarters some twelve long hours earlier; how much would it hurt them to learn that she had been admitted to Ravenclaw instead of Hufflepuff? She hadn't really considered that, after all, tradition was perhaps important to no one more than her parents. She groaned and rested her forehead in her hands, saying 'They'll disown me for sure!'.

O'Reilly was still staring, and she turned to him and spoke harshly. 'Isn't there anywhere else you could stare? It makes me uncomfortable. Stop. No, seriously, I want you to stop.' Dejected, he turned away and began pawing at his fork in the same way that she had been just a few minutes earlier. Somewhere inside she felt bad about the bitchy tone she'd taken, but she refused to apologize as yet. She'd let him stew until they'd reached the dormitories.

"Gryffindor!!" Amid cheers and banter from the predominately red-decorated table opposite her she could only just barely make out that the gryffindor house was welcoming someone by the name of Pettinson. She couldn't get much of a view. No matter,' she began 'it's not like I won't meet the kid over the course of the next year or so.'

'Robinson, Christa! Step forward please.' This name caught her attention and she turned to see one of the last students step forward to meet the professor at the stool a few feet ahead. Their gazes met briefly, and both raised crossed fingers in the hopes that they would be placed into the same house. 'A ha! ' the sorting hat began, 'another Robinson! Honestly, how do your parents produce so many children in such a short time, anyway?? ' She had, in all fairness, been the most recent of eight admittees to Hogwarts, but that was no excuse for foul comments on the part of what was essentially a wise-assed top-hat. 'They ought to leave some space on the food-chain for other families to fit in some children of their own!' There was a smattering of guffaws from the surrounding tables, but hardly the uproar that the hat seemed to expect. 'Hmm, well, off to Ravenclaw with you! How's that?'

August's own house, which had fleshed out with more first years than she had noticed arrive, rose to its feet to welcome what would be one of its last aspirants. Christa, whose semi-messy braids hung loosely, framing her thin, lively face, ignored the majority of her welcoming party and instead met August with in a series of hugs and excited screaming matches. They were delighted that their good fortune had allowed them to be placed in the same house. After their elation had abated, they turned together to meet and greet the other students. One young lady introduced herself immediately. 'Wallace, Kelly Wallace is my name!' the short girl beamed, rising to her feet and taking the hand of both Christa and August, 'it's really nice to meet you both!' Her deep green eyes seemed to glow in the soft candlelight, and the three sat back down together as the last of the names was called.

'Zaltan, Charlene. . .'

'Hufflepuff!'

The Ravenclaw table was alive with laughter now that the last name had been called and the children were free to get to know those who would be their classmates. 'What the hell took them so long? Were there really that many of us?' Christa asked of Kelly, who had only been called a moment earlier, 'and why the hell did u get called before I did? Last time I checked, hun, Wallace came after Robinson in the alphabet!'

'Yeh, well, maybe beauty before alphabetical order?' Kelly hissed sarcastically. She was obviously joking, but she really did have a sort of graceful beauty about her.

'Actually, guys?' August began, 'I'm pretty sure that it's some sort of weak, randomized order! Beck was talking about it earlier, but God knows that that only means so much. Most of what he says about is completely unfounded garbage anyway.'

'Hey, Christa, you're father is a Muggle mayor, isn't he?' a young boy called from a few feet down the table. Christa answered politely and introduced herself, but August didn't notice what was said. Her attention was once more drawn to the Hufflepuff table, some twenty feet away, where professor sprout had been called from the head table by the Hufflepuff prefect to discuss, without a doubt, just how such a mistake as this could ever have been made. 'Frankly,' she heard Beckham stammer 'I'm not sure that one of our family has ever been anything else other than a Hufflepuff. . . it's outrageous. Something simply must be done!' Sprout looked painfully uninterested in his misplaced tirade, and August only hoped that in time the rather plump professor at the head of Hufflepuff house would get used to her eldest brother's tyrannical, down-your-throat approach to life and leadership.

'Hey hun,' Christa addressed the distracted August, 'hun, are you listening?' A faint nod was the only reply. The young Ms. Grendle's eyes were still fixed on the conversation occurring a table or so away. 'Yeh, Chris? What's up?' she asked, making only the slightest attempt to hide that she was so uninterested in what was to be said.

'Well at least you could pretend to be interested! I want to introduce you to some people.' She gestured with a wave of her hand across the table to a group of fellow first years and introduced two young men by the names of Andrew Crawford and Jason Alexander. Jason, in who's thin-rimmed glasses August saw that a bang or two of her wavy blond hair was out of order, reached his hand across the table and took hers for an exaggerated handshake.

'Its nice to meet you, August.' he said. She returned the sentiment gave him a once-over before turning her gaze to the young man to Jason's right. 'Andrew, wasn't it?' she asked. He nodded. 'It's nice to meet you.' she added with the faintest hint of phoniness, but he didn't seem to mind. 'Must be the quiet type', she thought, and not one to admit defeat lightly, she resumed her attempt to coax a bit of conversation from the young Ravenclaw.

The next few minutes was spent as such, with Christa chuckling under her breath at August's misguided attempts to ease the young student from his shell until at last the sound of a toast being called rang through the air. Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, rose and spoke.

'A warm welcome to all! To both new and returning students I wish only the most heart felt of welcomes. Now,' he gestured to a professor seated adjacent who in turn passed him a small roll of parchment, 'if I may, a few announcements before we begin the feast. Firstly, I have been asked to announce that there will be a few changes to the curriculum this year, not the least of which is an advanced class in transfiguration that will be led by our very own professor McGonagall. All first years will be promptly tested during the first week of class to assess their, shall we say, suitability? Secondly, our grounds keeper and care of magical creatures instructor, Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, has asked me to inform all students that a young clutch of terribly poisonous crypt beetles has recently escaped its cage and made for the dark forest; as a result, all students should make all feasible attempts to avoid any part of the grounds which borders the forest itself. Furthermore, should anyone glimpse a large, two foot and uniquely hairy beetle running about the grounds at any time, either Mr. Hagrid or myself would be most appreciative of a timely heads-up.' Professor Hagrid, August noted, had turned a sickly shade of green as the announcement was sounded. Evidently, it had been his responsibility to keep watch over the beetles. 'It is, as always, demanded that under no circumstances shall a student stray into the forest itself. It is no place for the magically inept.'

'That being said, may you all enjoy the feast! Let it begin, Mr. Shinnagan.' The kindly looking headmaster gestured emphatically to a small house elf seated towards the left-hand side of the head table that was dressed smartly in a blue tuxedo. The young elf snapped two fingers, and a fantastic feast of roast, salad, fruit, cakes and all other possible courses imaginable rose from the very table itself onto the plates set neatly before each student.

'Bon appetit,' the headmaster called.

The meal, of course, was amazing, and August spent her time getting to know what seemed like the endless number of Ravenclaws that were seated alongside her. The house prefect, Marcus Dominem, a wise-looking seventh year honors student, made his way to the first years to extend his congratulations on being sent to House Ravenclaw. He was tall and sturdy looking, with a kind smile and a self-assured steadiness to his gate. The conversation itself revealed that he was knowledgeable as well, and likely an excellent source of tutoring if classes ever got rough.

'No, actually its not random at all,' he was referring to the order in which students had been sorted, 'it depends moreover on the number of family members that have attended the school in the recent past. Bearing that in mind, the faculty makes every attempt to mix it all up so that at no time will there be a large number of Muggle-born students versus a crowd of pure bloods. It's meant to help foster a certain sense of equality among all.'

August chuckled as she bit into a fork-full of what she thought was probably lamb, 'So Beckham was wrong after all. Go figure. I should have seen that coming.'

Otherwise, Dinner went for the most part without incident, and she got the chance to meet a large number of fellow first year Ravenclaws. A fellow by the name of Arden Seamus, a red-haired boy with a sarcastic, mean streak to his personality, sat opposite and a few seats down the table. She didn't get the nicest first impression of him, and neither did Christa or Kelly I seemed, since they all shared the same sort of blank, unimpressed expression as the young man shamelessly mocked the Crawford boy that they had met earlier.

Adam O'Reilly, the same arrogant looking kid from earlier in the banquet, was refusing to even acknowledge August's presence. He did make avid conversation, however, with Christa and Kelly who were only too happy to hear of all the quidditch masters that he had met through his parents, both well known players in their own right. Last among the new students was a fellow named Nolan Alden-Kip, a quiet, Muggle-born blue-eyed boy with strawberry blond hair, and a young lady named Carrie Tuppings. August recognized her surname as that of an aristocratic magical family with whom her parents had had business many times in the past. Although they worked in the Ministry of Magic's Registry and Internal Affairs Department, she wasn't exactly sure of their responsibilities. She would ask her later when the opportunity arose.

The meal ended with yet another toast by the Headmaster. 'Of course, with the recent rise of the evil Death Eaters and their master, the nefarious Voldemort, I wish to extend my sincerest wishes of good fortune and happiness. May our time here at Hogwarts in the coming year be one filled with tolerance and acceptance, rather than hatred and mistrust.' He raised his glass. All students mirrored the sentiment, simultaneously. 'To new potential, new friends and faces, and to the release and forgiveness of old fears, transgressions, angers and prejudices.' He unmistakably turned his eyes to meet with August's and smiled with a warm sincererity. She was sure it was meant to smooth over any rough patches that might develop between her and her family in the coming days. She only hoped that they had noticed.

A moment later, the house prefects rose and began, one by one, to lead their houses from the great hall. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were last to vacate.

'Just a moment please, Marcus' came the familiar voice of Beckham Grendle, 'if I may, I'd like a word with my sister before you head back to your common room.'

'Of course, Beck. Listen, August, I'll wait with the rest of the house first years just outside the doors, just there. Whenever you're ready, just come and meet us, alright?' She nodded, and turned to face her eldest brother as Marcus led the Ravenclaws out of the chambers.

A good three or four minutes of silence passed before anyone spoke, and it was surprisingly August that broke the silence. 'Listen, Beck, I want you to know that I requested to be placed in a different house. But it's not that I wanted to flaunt the years of tradition or anything, and it wasn't meant to be a slight to you, Marcy, Justin, Mom, Dad or anyone. I just didn't feel that I could really find myself locked in that that same schedule of Hogwarts to Hufflepuff to Graduation to a cushy job with the Ministry, and finally Death. It just didn't fit me, do you understand?' She gazed at her brother as sincerely as she knew how and awaited a response.

'This,' he gestured to the badger emblazoned on his cloak, 'means something not only to me, our parents, and all of the other relatives that are undoubtedly dying to hear how tonight has gone, but until recently it meant something to you. Now you're telling me that what I had presumed had been an honest mistake on the part of the sorting hat was in fact entirely your doing? That you chose not to be included in this part of our family tradition sickens me. Honestly, I swear to God, as long as you wear that filthy crow on your cloak you'll have nothing to do with me!'

August was in tears. 'Beck, wait, hold on, it's not as simple as that! I still need you, Marcy, Justin, everyone! I just don't feel like I know myself anymore, you know? Can't you understand that? I need to find out where I stand on so many things, and I don't feel I can do that buried in the same common room as every Grendle that has come here before me. Why can't you understand that?'

'Because it doesn't make sense. How the hell am I supposed to help you find yourself when I'm a dormitory away? And the twins feel the same. You need to think things through, and see Dumbledore about a transfer to Hufflepuff. I'm writing mom and pop tonight, but I'll leave out that you were sorted into Ravenclaw on purpose. They wouldn't hear of such a thing, and you know bloody well that it would break their hearts. Go to your common room. I'll send for you in the morning to speak about the transfer.'

'Beck, wait, please?' August whispered, muffling a few tears and sobs, 'don't do this.' Instead of responding, the Hufflepuff prefect turned and made for the door. Wiping a few stray tears away, August left alongside him and silently joined her friends among the Ravenclaws.

'This way, please, first years,' Marcus called with a saddened glance towards the young Grendle.

'Hunny, are you OK?' Christa put an arm around her best friend and led her down the hall and up the endless flights of stairs behind their prefect.

'Well, what are you going to do? If you transfer, you know I'll come along.' She was saying, still leading August to the apparently barren wall in front of which Marcus had stopped.

'Gather round, kids,' he called 'because gaining entry to our common room is a bit more complicated than that of the others. You must stand just as such, and speaking most clearly with your hand placed on the eagle bust sitting just thus, say the words Discana Allevia.' August hadn't noticed it until now. It was marble and a few feet high, with glittering sapphire-studded eyes. When Marcus had done so, he was lifted straight up through a circular, shadowy opening in the distant ceiling and out of sight. 'Do as I have done,' his voice was heard to call.

'We may as well.' August approached first of all the new students and placed her hand upon the eagle bust. 'Discana Allevia' she spoke, and was made immediately weightless, heaved up upside-down through the wide hole in the roof as if by carried aloft by the strength of some great eagle itself. She found herself still within the confines of the same circular vertical passage but held aloft by what felt like a strong wind. Before her was the opening to a great stone chambers, the Ravenclaw common room, she imagined. Unless it had been her imagination, the room itself was upside-down with respect to the rest of the castle. Marcus was waiting to greet her.

'Welcome,' she gripped the handrail and he helped her inside, 'to the Ravenclaw common room. And yes, it is strictly speaking upside down. It's by powerful magic's that it is maintained as such.'

'Oh my God!' came the voices of Kelly and Christa who had just been levitated through the passage and into the common room, 'this is amazing!' Taking their hands, August looked about the great pyramid shaped stone chamber, lined from floor to distant ceiling (or was it actually ceiling to distant floor?!) by bookshelf upon bookshelf. There was a great roaring fire in the center, set into a raised platform surrounded for safety's sake no doubt by iron gates. There were ancient oak tables and chairs set hap hazardly around the room and great sofas lined with blue silk, the same blue silk that hung in complex draperies and what not from the ceilings. Brass busts and instruments decorated the walls and tables, and a great brass eagle was found to perch, inverted, on the roof itself. It was undoubtedly the source of the mysterious incantation that held gravity inverted. August realized that its iridescent green eyes were likely the source of much of the illumination that filled the chambers.

'These books, kids, are some of the rarest in the wizarding world. No one knows that we have them, and many are illegal, officially. As long as none leave the confines of the common room, they are available for your use at any time,' Marcus was obviously proud of the library that adorned the walls of his common room. 'but I dare say that we are all tired tonight. To the dormitories then!' He led them back to the chamber entrance and placed his hand on a smaller bronze eagle bust set against the wall. 'To enter your dormitories,' he explained, 'simply place your as such once more, and speak your name. All of you have already been entered in a registry that is responsible for sending you to the appropriate chamber.'

'Marcus Dominem.' He set foot into the floorless, ceiling-less vertical passage of polished sapphire and was hurtled downwards (or was it upwards?). Kelly, Christa and August all approached next.

'It's perfectly safe to go all at once,' a kind, red haired fourth year explained, 'as long as you're all of the same sex and year, that is.'

'Kelly Wallace!' Stepping foot into the passage, they were sent flying at a feverish pace until they found that they were level with a room of polished stone and hardwood floor. It was circular, and they were still levitating in the center. They stepped out from the well-like entrance to the passageway onto the warm floor and took a look around. There were four beds, or rather four piles of luxurious pillows and warm comforters, set at odds around the room, each framed with a bureau, mirror, sink, and a desk and chair. Their cases had all been brought up, and alongside were their newly tailored robes complete with the Ravenclaw seal waiting for them. Their new ties, blue and bronze, as well as their new house uniform shirts and skirts, sat atop their chests.

They all collapsed together upon Christa's bed, but each agreeing that the night had been too long indeed, went off to their own. Carrie arrived only a moment later, and again exchanging greetings and a few more bits of introductions, they all turned off the oil lamps set on each of the window-sills (interestingly not inverted when compared to the surrounding landscape), and went to sleep.

The castle was cold and dark as August set foot from the chamber out into the passages of Hogwarts. It was just past midnight, and an eerie stream of moonlight was found to streak across the floor. She wasn't entirely sure what had roused her from her restful slumber or beckoned her from the chamber itself, but she was determined to find out.

She meandered through the dimly lit passages of the school, glancing inside vacant classrooms and lecture theatres, until she came at last to the main courtyard. Much to her surprise, her grandmother, deceased many years, lay naked in the center of the grassy yard. Tensed by fear, she approached and called to her nanna, who lay crumpled in the fetal position only yards away. There were cuts and burns across her body, and her face was shielded by reams of matted, filthy hair. 'Someone, please, anyone help me!' August called. There was no answer.

'Don't leave me alone with him, dear, please, kill me?' came her grandmother's faint, raspy whisper.

'Nanna, what's wrong?'

The hair was suddenly furiously flung from the face of the old woman, who now leapt up and clutched at August's arm. The kind face of her grandmother was absent, and a savage, demonic visage met her eyes instead. It had clumps of grey, silty hair, and huge red eyes that seemed to smoke and fume with a hellish vapor. The teeth were mostly missing, but what was present was caked in blood and filth, attached to her jaws by some blackened gums.

'Remember me!' she wailed, and August let out a horrible scream that roused her from her slumber, and set her shivering in the dormitory. Christa was sitting with her and looked terribly upset herself.

'What's wrong?' she asked, desperate to know what had happened.

'Umm,' August stammered, 'just a nightmare. Nothing. I'll tell you about in the morning okay?'

With a concerned nod, Christa returned to her bed and fell back to sleep. August meanwhile had no intention of sleeping another wink tonight, and instead lay awake thinking about her family, her dream and her grandmother, who had died shortly before her grandfather, years before she had been born. The night slowly ebbed away, and only the first rays of dawn brought her comfort and rest. Too bad she'd have to wake in a mere three hours, anyway.

Chapter 2:

Very little sleep had come to August during the night and by morning her eyes had that droopy quality that one seems to get whenever one suffers a truly disturbing sort of nightmare. More than even being simply frightening or alarming, it had been the first time that she had ever seen her grandmother in a dream under any circumstances, and it was hard to picture a woman she had always heard was so kind hearted and sweet in such pain and enduring such suffering.

Now that the time had come to wake and dress for classes, she roused herself from her bed and took to the windowsill where she sat quietly reflecting on all that had happened. A great deal of the night had been spent pondering her future in either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, and she was sure that it was this very conflict that sat at the root of her dream. A yawn and a muffled scuffling of slippers drew her attention from the beautiful, serene landscape back inside the dormitory room; Christa had risen from bed and was making her way across the landing.

'Morning, Auggy. Care to tell me a little more about what the hell happened last night? Maybe you could start with that viscous, verbal beating you took from Beck?'

Christa was obviously worried, and she took August's head against her shoulder and rocked her playfully, singing a cheesy sort of lullaby, purposefully quite off tune. August couldn't help but chuckle as she began to speak.

'Beck wants me to transfer to Hufflepuff. He said something about it breaking mom and dad's hearts, and disgracing the name of Grendle and so on and blah, blah, blah. Honestly, he can be such a jackass sometimes.'

'He's a dick, but if all my years knowing that git have told me a thing, though, its that he really cares about you. Not much of what he does is anything but what he honestly feels is in your best interest. It's not his fault that he gets sidetracked and turns into a heartless hate-monger at the first sign of frustration! How'd he ever manage to become house prefect, anyhow?'

'Justin joked that he was famous for doing favors for the professors on campus, and I don't mean the cleaning-the-chalkboard sort of favors, either.' Both girls erupted in laughter at the concept, but quickly fell sullen once more.

'What have you decided, Aug?'

August thought a moment before answering. 'I'm not leaving. I made a decision and come hell or high water, I'm staying and sticking with it. If he doesn't like it he can go screw himself.'

Another yawn from not too far off in the darkened room alerted them to the wakefulness of another female first year. Carrie, who had somehow managed to wake looking presentable, had been roused from her slumber by the loud peals of laughter. She was now pulling on some sleeping trousers under her nightshirt and making her way back to the raised hole in the floor that was the entrance to the passage back to the common room. 'Guys,' she ran her blue-painted nail along its railing, 'I know how we got up here, but how the hell do we get back down? There isn't one of those busts of a pigeon.'

'It was an eagle, dumbass!' came Kelly's groaning murmur from somewhere within a messy pile of blankets and pillows.

'What a bloody grump. . .' August, still half leaning on her best friend nodded at the observation made under Christa's breath. Peering out now from beneath Christa's cradling arm, she cast a glance at the other two residents and interjected 'Maybe it's a one way thing, you know? Maybe it will only take us as far as the common room and so doesn't really need that bird to direct it.'

'Well it's as good a chance as anything, I suppose, but I don't want to be the one to plummet to my death. Go ahead Kell.' Carrie was obviously still a tad disgruntled by the bitchy comment from a moment earlier. Christa, now leaving August to sit on the ledge, approached the two girls who now sat face to face, locked in the throes of a mid- morning confrontation.

'Girls, this is stupid. C'mon, lets just give it a shot. I'm sure its got safety nets or whatever to keep us from falling and cracking our heads off of the floor. . .' she paused and scratched her head with a little chuckle, 'or maybe it's the ceiling, I'm still not sure. Why the hell invert the common room, anyhow? OK, regardless, one of you may as well just give it a go, but if you don't mind we're going to stay up here for a few minutes and talk things out for a bit.'

Sure enough, each of the other two girls in turn took to the mysterious passage and were sent barreling off into the shadows. Presumably, both reached their destination safely, but for the moment it was a non-issue. August had plopped down on her mangled pile of pillows and blankets, gazing with an empty sort of expression towards the opposite wall. 'What do you think my parents will say, Chris? Beck was right that there hasn't been a Grendle sorted outside of Hufflepuff in years. I half expect them to disown me.'

Christa was eager to lessen the burden, and spoke soothingly as she took a seat beside her best friend of many years. 'Well, they're always encouraging you to be your own girl, right? I can't imagine that they could take two steps backwards now, so suddenly, and tell you that something that you've done to do just that is wrong. I'm sure they won't hold this against you. Truth be told, I imagine that it's mainly the fact that Beckham is a house prefect that makes him so hurt.'

'He has put his heart and soul into that house for seven years, both on and off of the pitch.' August conceded. 'Speaking of which are you thinking about playing this year? The way I understand it, first years are available as alternates now. It'd be nice to be able to help out the house, eh?'

'Albeit, and it would be a great way to grab a few cute guys, but I really don't know. I was thinking about waiting for next year.' She had always been after the Quidditch boys, August mused silently. 'I'll think about it. At the very least I'll go to the try-outs with you. Any idea when they're scheduled for?'

'Next week, sometime' was the reply. 'Hey, do you remember me showing you that picture of my grandmother in the orchard last summer? It was taken back in the 40's when she was really young.' Christa nodded, reflecting. 'She was in my dream last night. Bloody terrifying, that. I had found her out in the courtyard late into the night, naked and hurt by someone. I called out for help, but no one came.'

August was beginning to sob, and Christa gently wiped one wayward tear away. 'She was just lying there, Chris, and when I tried to get up to get someone, I saw. . . I saw her face. It was mangled and patchy with some gross, mangy hair. I don't understand what would ever have given me that particular image, you know?'

'It sounds terrible,' Christa admitted. 'Maybe a sign of guilt over choosing to ask for an exemption from Hufflepuff? Might it be that you feel, somewhere inside, like you're choice might have hurt her or insulted her memory?'

'You know, that's what I had been thinking. But still, that doesn't explain her face or her eyes. My God her eyes were terrifying. They were some dark, bloody red, and fumed and sparked with the darkest, sickest scent I've ever experienced. I just can't get beyond it! I was thinking about exploring the library downstairs to see what I could find about that sort of dream. Maybe divination class will give some insight?'

Christa responded that one might never know until the first of their divination courses later in the week, and that in the mean time they had better tend to their rumbling stomachs and join the rest of their crew in the common room. Both made their way to the winding, dimly illuminated tubular passage that snaked from the circular entrance in the center of the room off to God knows where. Holding hands and taking a breath, the leapt inside and were carried at blinding speeds into the serpentine passage. Rooms, presumably other dormitories connected to the Ravenclaw common room passed by at blazing speed, and for a moment the young Ravenclaw thought that she had caught a glimpse of some strange sort of altar tucked into a shallow enclave off of the main tunnel. With no way to stop, slow, or reverse their fall, she simply trusted herself to the powerful incantations that buffered them from getting hurt.

Soon enough they began to slow and were gently tossed into the common room, where they were met by any number of yawning, grouchy Ravenclaws. In the middle of the room, a make-shift podium had been set up from books, boxes and a high stool; upon it was perched a small, wrinkled little man, with an almost bird-like quality. 'Ahh, some late comers! Take a seat, ladies, if you please.' He wore a kind smile and brandished a simple looking wand in his stubby fingers. 'I'd like you to meet our house matron ghost, who we all know as the gray lady.' At this, a tall, dark haired woman raised herself and addressed the crowd of onlookers.

"Ravenclaws of all ages, friends old and new, I welcome you to my home! May your time here be as rewarding as it has been for me.' She continued her lengthy address, but August found her attention drawn to a book that lay half off of the shelves to her left; she reached nonchalantly for it and eased its open. Although relatively new, the spine was adequately worn from so many years of use that it made little noise or rustling. August was pleased that as such it was unlikely to be construed as rude, let alone distract her fellows. She read what excerpts caught her eye as she flipped through the pages.

<>'The Dark arts have a sorted history that lies entwined in the greater histories of both the Muggle and magical worlds. . .' 'Many of the most bizarre, horrendous and frightening events of modern history find their roots in the mischief or evil of one dark sorcerer or another. Among the most notable, of course, are Salazar Slytherin and his ilk who to this day refer to themselves as the Asps of Salazar. Many others of the modern nights refer to them as Death Eaters. . . .' 'They follow the nefarious genius of Voldemort, premier among the Dark Wizards of our time, matched in his horrible works only by the late . . .'

An elbow from Christa drew August's attention back to the center of the gathered crowd before she could glean the name of the famous sorcerer. The alarmed face of the grey lady met hers, whispering closer as if caught by a fearful breeze. The face of the ancient ghost was wrought with worry. She cast hurried glances first from August to the book, and then back to August before turning back in the direction of professor Flitwick.

'What's wrong?' August asked of Christa, 'is there something on my face? Seriously, I didn't think that reading to myself was that rude.' Christa shrugged and took the book from August's lap, replacing it onto the shelves.

Frustrated, Flitwick turned and addressed the floating apparition. 'Perhaps, my Lady, we ought to inform the students of the announcements?' She nodded, and returned to her seat, hands folded on her lap. 'Well, children, I am pleased to announce that this year there will be an advanced class in transfiguration that will culminate, some three or four years down the road, in the graduation of animagi! Included in your tuition at Hogwarts this year is the nominal cost of registration. As such, breakfast must be postponed to make way for an extended class of transfiguration!' His words were met with muffled groans and moans from the first years. 'Fear not, no don't fret my young friends. Breakfast, although belated, will commence for all immediately following this first class. Now, to be prepared and on time, you must all now hurry off to dress and make it to class. Adieu, all!'

With that, professor Flitwick made for the chamber's exit, and plummeted through the roof back down towards the chambers below. 'Wonderful, well whatever. Let's get to it then.' Kelly moaned, grabbing each of Christa and August by the arms and leading them back towards the common room entrance. 'Kelly Wallace!' she boomed, and stepping forward and waving goodbye to Crawford and O'Reilly, they plummeted to their dormitories.

The girls dressed quickly and it didn't take long for one of them to mention the book that August had been reading. 'What exactly was that, anyway? History of the Dark Arts, wasn't it?' Carrie asked from across the room as she brushed her straight dark hair gingerly. She was a slightly heavyset girl, and August thought to herself that she might be well suited for quidditch. She'd have to get her to try out.

'Yeh, that's exactly what book it was. I really didn't think much of reading it though, and I really didn't see what the big deal was. Was it honestly all that rude?' August was still a little bothered by the reaction that she'd been given. 'I didn't see anything wrong with it.'

'No, hun I'm not sure that it was that it was rude at all' Kelly began 'I think moreover their reaction was something closer to fear, but now you see that's what I can't figure out! It's not like you're the first 1st year student to read that book and certainly not the first Ravenclaw! The spine was worn as hell. Even I could make that much out from across the room.'

'No matter, it's over now. I'm sure if it's important, Flitwick will find the time to speak with me.'

Not long thereafter, the girls were dressed and had fetched their wands, scarves, and cloaks (complete with the blue and bronze emblem of Ravenclaw emblazoned onto the chest) from their trunks. Turning then to the passageway, they each took turns descending to the common room below where Arden Seamus and Nolan Alden-Kip sat comparing wands with Jason and Andrew. Arden was enjoying himself at the expense of the others, making fun of the particularities of each child's wand even though each was of course the top of the line, bought new from Ollivander's only days earlier.

'Hey, Kell! Let's see that wand of yours. You were bragging about how unique the core was last night at dinner, weren't you?' Arden was evidently not entirely satisfied with the fun he had poked at the two other 1st years that sat next to him. Much to the amusement of all, however, the young Wallace didn't even grace his request with the slightest response, instead turning to compare wands with the three girls that accompanied her. Christa revealed the stout, powerful charm-wand that her father had bought for her earlier in the summer, and they all began to speak hurriedly about the famous dragon whose heartstring lay at its core; 'I heard the same dragon was responsible for the deaths of hundreds back in the 30's!' she was saying, 'It also holds the record for the most limbs dismembered in a single twelve hour period!'

'Hey, Aug! Let's see then, what have you got!'

A little hesitant, August Grendle removed the wand from its scabbard and brought it up to eye level. It was willow, and had a mysterious core which had been specifically tailor made for her years many earlier by a local aristocrat on the eve of her birth. 'Even though it's so old,' she explained in a hushed tone, 'its never been used. It was kept specifically for me. It was almost taboo for anyone else to touch it, actually.' She shrugged, remembering the myriad stories that sought to explain its origin. 'Some of my family has said that it's got a core of dragon heartstring, but others say that it's something dark and evil, a horrible relic of some old necromancer!' She laughed and gave it a playful wave before returning it to its hold on her belt. 'Garbage if you ask me! I've had it since I was only very young, even though I was forbidden to make use of it. Go figure. Anyway, come on we'd better be off to class before Professor McGonagall has our heads turned to toads or our noses inflamed by a vicious, scathing rashes of zits!'

'From what I've heard, she might even resort to that sort of punishment,' Kelly was all to fast to point out, at best only half joking.

The whole slew of 1st year Ravenclaws made their way down the descending passage to the bare castle below and with a prayer of thanks for their safe descent, they made their way hastily to the Transfiguration classroom two floors beneath them. Along the way, Mr. Shinnagan, the head of the house elf union, met them offering to show the fastest, safest route to their destination. The midmorning air had a crisp lick against August's cheek, and the free-floating scent of the nearby mountains and lake calmed her nerves. Descending the last flight of stairs now, she laughed and joked with the other students. Even O'Reilly, the one student she had been sure that she could never get along with, was becoming more tolerable, and she looked forward to getting to know the whole lot of them. Her hand brushed the cool stone balcony that overlooked the courtyard as they made their way along the final stretch of corridor. The 1st year slytherins were just ahead, and as they made their way into the lecture hall August caught a glimpse of her brothers standing outside the classroom. Her heart sank. She would have to tell them.

'Alright, guys I'll be in in just a moment, OK? Would you mind telling McGonagall that I'll be along in just a sec?' A slew of nods and muffled 'Good luck's were the reply.

The door closed, she leaned against the cold marble pillar set only a few feet from the door and peered into her two brother's eyes. She could read them like a book, of course, and she could tell that they were uncomfortable. Justin, especially, looked as though he wanted to let a faint apology slip and run before all shit could hit the fan. Justin in fact was the first to break the silence.

'Well, I've spoken with Professor Sprout, Mom, Dad and professor McGonagall, and as it turns out there is more than enough room for you in Hufflepuff, if you should decide to consider a transfer.' Justin was more than a little bit defensive in his approach to the situation.

'Well, I'm happy to hear that, but I'm sorry to say that I've decided not to transfer. I am happy exactly where I am, and I hope you can understand and appreciate that.'

The news, spilled all at once and without the slightest room for ambivalence or misunderstanding, caught both the boys entirely off guard. It would seem that both had expected an easy fight and a quick resolution in their favor. 'It's not open for debate, guys, I'm sorry' she added to emphasize her stalwart stance.

'I really do wish that you'd consider this again, Aug; all we want is to be able to look after you, honestly.' Beck was being significantly more diplomatic than he had opted to be the previous night, but it was his nature to shoot now and think later. He couldn't help being an emotional man, August knew, but even so she wasn't going to let him off of the hook so easily. She fixed him with a malicious stare and began her rebuke.

'Really, to look after me, is it? That must be why you decided it pertinent to reduce me to tears last night, and call me a shame to our family and ancestors?' She was on a roll and she knew it. 'No, Beck, I won't exchange houses. Not now, and not ever. Furthermore, I'll kick your phony ass up and down that damn quidditch pitch, whether you like THAT or not. If you want to keep an eye on me, I am more than open to that prospect, but if all you ever wanted was to dominate, control and ultimately manipulate me for the benefit of your own ego, than no, I'll have nothing to do with it or with you. Good bye.' She strode off and entered the class, not even wasting a moment waiting for the responses of either sibling.

'Ahh, Ms.Grendle. A seat has been saved for you next to Ms. Robinson. If you wouldn't mind?' she tapped the vacant seat with her wand, 'then perhaps we could begin our admittedly unusually early lesson.' With a weak smile and a weasing yawn, the professor began reading from a recent act passed by the Ministry of Magic's Governing Body for Schooling of the Minded-Minded. It read to the effect that, effective immediately, the select among Hogwarts 1st years would be able to undergo training in the skills necessary to master the state of animagi. As such, a simple test of suitability was necessary. 'We shall begin with Ms. Robinson, if you please.' Professor McGonagall spoke with a nod.

Christa rose and approached the front desk. She was asked to seat herself upon a stool and recite a prior written, simple incantation while focusing on an animal of her choosing. Christa did so, and although she did momentarily sprout some fine hairs from her upper lip and ears, she was sent back to her seat with a pleasant gesture of thanks by the professor. Andrew Crawford was next, and the quiet lad took his seat. Upon reciting the same incantation, he shivered a bit and foamed momentarily at the mouth and nose, while gray, shiny scales emerged for the briefest instant from his wrists. He was ushered back to his seat, and Jason was then called forward: a crocked bill of sorts, sprouting from an inflamed right ear lobe, was the result.

A few Hufflepuffs and Slytherin students were then called forward and from this crowd the first students were found to be suitable. One young slytherin by the name of Lacy Statin, and another by the name of Aaron Carol, were found to each momentarily take on the striking likenesses of a large owl and serpent, respectively. Finally, after covering the members of each house and choosing a small number of other students (gryffindor was left unrepresented, much to their chagrin), it came time for August to be called forward. Not even slightly nervous, she approached, took her seat, and read from the scroll held by Professor McGonagall just a short distance from her nose. Rather than experience any of the symptoms of expanded awareness or strength that the others described, the world all at once went blurry, fading to a dull, distant roar. August nearly fainted, feeling ill and diseased all at once. She lifted herself from the stool, and stepped forward, pushing the oversized desk out of the way before tumbling to her knees and collapsing into a deep, dark sleep.

Moments later, she awoke in the arms of a terribly distraught, bawling Christa who cradled her in her arms. McGonagall was there as well, fanning her with the same parchment that held the incantation. 'So, I guess I'm not entirely suitable after all, I suppose' she stammered, barely aware that words had even emerged from her mouth.

'On the contrary, I've never before seen such an aptitude for personal transfiguration in a student. I'm not sure I could pass up your training on a clear conscience, my dear. Ms. Robinson, if you wouldn't mind, I wonder if you might escort your young friend outside to the courtyard for some air?'

'Certainly, ma'am.' came the timid reply, 'could Jason and Andrew come along?'

Outside, August leaned against the stone trestle and took deep, soothing breaths. All at once, amid the backdrop of hushed whispers from both her immediate friends and those still in the classroom, a question dawned on her. 'What the hell did I become, guys?'

Glancing back and forth, none could give her a straight answer. 'It looked canine', said one, while another felt it was closer to some sort of 'insect-like thing'. Clearly, it would take a while to figure this one out.

'I'm sorry, Auggy, but it made me physically ill to see you like that. I almost had to leave and barf.' Andrew interjected apologetically, 'but what was more amazing than the transformation was what you did to the professor's desk! I've never seen something get smashed up so badly.' August was shocked, but sure enough, looking back through the doorway, she saw the desk itself nearly crumpled and strewn to one side of the class. The rest of the year's 1st year students were milling about now, ready to head off to breakfast.

'But, how? I barely remember a thing from the second or two that it took, but I do remember thinking that the desk was nearly weightless. Does that make any sense to anyone?' but of course it didn't, and all conceded that a good breakfast might well make things seem just a bit brighter.

Indeed it did, and although conversations with a variety of professors and prefects didn't turn up much insight as to the unusual transformation she had undergone, it did come to her attention that that very day would be the first of the week's flying lessons, and therein a chance to impress their local captains and possibly score a position as an alternate on the house Quidditch teams. As a result, it was with a full stomach and a lifted heart that the Ravenclaw gang of Christa, Kelly, Andrew, Jason and August, followed closely by all the other housemates, made their way off to their first charms lesson led by their own head of house, Marcus.