Ari cooperates with the autonomous tape measure, though an inadvertent tickle results in undignified and highly dangerous flailing. "Spare? Huh. I like that idea. Nimue knows I'm probably going to break at least one."

Sally nods. "I- also, also want, a spare. I like- safety."

"...We can teleport, you know. There's three entirely distinct ways to teleport. And France would be better than a secondhand shop anyway, secondhand wands are kind of crap."

Ari and company exit. "Miss Halliwell knows where to Floo, I speak French, and there's a bunch of grown-ups here. Or we could bring your mum along."

"Mum's busy moving in to the new apartment or she would have come with me to go shopping," says Miranda. "I'm going to at least try the secondhand shop, but if I don't find anything and you're still going to go to France I can ask her if I can come along."

"Sure! We'll be getting familiars at Eeylop's."

"Weren't we going to get stationery?" attempts Ms. Halliwell.

"Yes," agrees Ari. "We'll be getting familiars."

The professor makes a small noise of despair.

"Oh, I want to get an owl too, but I think I'd better try for a second wand first in case it winds up doing something unexpected to my budget. Maybe I'll run into you there."

Miranda comes in with two wands crisscrossed in her hair. "Hi! I won't need to come with you to France after all, I found a second wand that likes me a whole lot."

"Ooh, nice. Want to come anyway? You're interesting and I need human friends. And France is neat, from what I've heard."

"Yeah," sighs Miranda. "Wizards. Where did your parents go? I'm not sure my mum would believe you're allowed to go to France if there weren't any parents."

"How old are you?" Miranda wonders of Ari.

"Uh... somewhere between thirteen and fifteen?"

"...You don't know how old you are?"

"Raised in a rotting mansion by an evil witch. Unorthodox child-rearing techniques."

"...Oh. Um, anyway Ms. Halliwell might do for convincing my mum it's okay but Sally's parents would be better."

Sally raises a hand. "I can, um, phone. Them."

"That works."

"It was my mum who needed to hear that, but, uh, maybe she'll believe me."

"I can corroborate, if you like. And Sally, who can't lie without medical assistance."

"Okay. I live down Plur Alley."

"Lead on, MacDuff. My geography's kind of spotty outside five hundred acres of briar in Yorkshire."

"He does! He wouldn't really care if we were going to, like, Burma or somewhere, even, but France isn't even an issue. Might want us to get wands before going to Burma, they've got basilisks." Catching a meaningful look from Sally, he clarifies, "Not many, though. And there's certainly none in France. Temperate region, you know. Speaking of which: France?"

"Hrm," says Miranda's mum. "Just briefly? How are you getting there?"

"Quite briefly! Wands, possibly getting lunch or ice cream or jewelry or something, right back. Via Floo, both ways. I can Apparate but I'm not allowed, because of laws."

"...Well, all right, but I need to know more about where you're going than 'France'," says Miranda's mum.

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the name," says Miranda's mum.

"A very classically-trained wandmaker, but one who's not afraid to break tradition for a good reason. Like getting a spare wand, or, uh... that sort of thing."

"And you are?" Miranda's mum asks Ms. Halliwell.

"Oh. Hogwarts professor. Recent hire. Transfiguration, since Professor McGonagall's busy carrying the world on her back. Helping Miss Martin get her bearings in the wizarding world, and helping Mister Smith get his bearings in the... world."

"Uh, sure," says Miranda. "What's the address again?"

"The chimneys are destination-locked, just say 'Marseilles' and step through."

"Okay." Miranda turns to Sally. "Have you ever done this before at all?"

"Okay. It's not hard, but it's a little disorienting, and if you're as clumsy as I am you'll fall over when you come out the other end, but it's a lot quicker than flying all the way there for sure. I like to have extra powder in my pocket before I go anywhere just in case. You throw a pinch into the fire, the flames go green and that's how you know they're safe, and then you step in and make sure your knees are locked and your elbows are straight arms at your sides, and then you clearly say the address, in this case Marseilles. Any questions?"

"What if, um, what if I stammer? I can- usually I can control for short stuff, but I, the pressure makes h- makes it harder."

"If you say it wrong then you'll come out the wrong fireplace - that's one reason I like having extra powder. Maybe you'll want more than a couple pinches to make really sure."

"...Oh. Okay. Not burning up." Sally looks slightly embarrassed.

"No, no, that doesn't happen. The worst case scenario is that you break a knee and wind up in Portugal, and then you just come back straight here and hop a bit and my mum can fix the knee if nobody else offers first. The address of this station is Plur Alley."

Miranda follows her. "Marseilles!"

"Let her fix your arm," Miranda says, likewise exasperated. "You have to tuck in your elbows!"

"Well, once I've got a wand I can fix it for myself! Besides, I talk with my hands." He allows his arm to rest long enough for his handler to reduce the fracture to hairline and Tergeo off most of the blood, then leaps to his feet. "Wands!"

"How are you this age without a wand or Mr. Ollivander recognizing you, anyway?" wonders Miranda, dusting herself off from her own less dramatic fall.

"I mentioned the rotting mansion, right? There were a bunch of old people wands lying around. I had one that liked me alright, but it turned out it was made with vileoak and unicorn heartstring, both of which are illegal as it turns out, so I couldn't keep it even though the unicorn was already dead. Plus, the whole secondhand wand problem. So, shopping."

"Huh. My secondhand wand supposedly has chimera hair but I wouldn't bet on that being true. It's probably really some kind of hair, though."

"Yeah, mine was... definitely unicorn heartstring. I think there's a test for cores, I can ask the case-auror if you want."

"That would be cool, then I could find out what I've really got."

"I'll owl him tomorrowish. And Sally will pester me if I forget."

"Thanks. So where's this wandshop?"

"Just down Rue Pugnant. Don't worry, I know the way to this one, Mom made sure I'd know where I could get a wand if I needed it in a hurry."

"Okay, lead on."

Wizarding Marseilles is a place full of shining colors and blown glass. However, Ari leads the merry troupe down an alley containing somewhat more sombre decorations, including swathes of black cloth and at least one tea-stained skull. There are fewer passers-by, and most look at the children in confusion and the adult with suspicion.

"Almost there!"

"Huh? I guess not, come to think of it. The rent's probably lower here, though."

"I mean this looks sort of like the alleys I'm not supposed to go into in London. Or like Walker Street - back in Australia - maybe."

"Okay," says Miranda, mostly because she hasn't actually seen anything frightening enough to be worth cutting and going back to the Floo on her own. She follows Ari into the store.

"I met Ari earlier today while out shopping," says Miranda.

"I have two," says Miranda. "I wasn't sure my mum would let me come to France, so I already got a second one."

"I don't have enough money for a third one even if you took Galleons," apologizes Miranda.

Miranda giggles. "If you want to buy me a third wand I won't say no! But you have to tell my mum I didn't wheedle for it."

"It's not necessary to tell her lies," Miranda says primly, waving things. Nope, not this one. Not that one.

"Thank you," says Miranda, accepting the cookie. "I like my wands fine, it's okay. The secondhand shop owner said my second one is supposed to be chimaera hair but she wasn't sure if that was really true or not."

She retrieves a small pair of spectacles. "It is! How funny... I may need to speak with someone about trying this myself. How does it cast? May I examine it more closely?"

Miranda pulls out her hazel-chimera wand. "I don't know any spells yet really but you can look at it."

"When I picked it up it made a giant globe of light big enough to cover my whole arm," Miranda says.

"Impressive. My first wand sent out only a single bright spark. This one here needed no introduction, of course; I made him myself."

"Out of what?" Ari inquires.

She glares. "Heart of a boy who didn't know his own business from other people's. Looked very much like you, now I think of it."

Ari laughs.

"Don't worry, Miranda. Wizards don't have magical components, anyway."

"Okay..."

"Well," says Ari, "it's been nice visiting you. We should get going, probably."

"Come back any time, Ariel. And you can always send an owl my way."

After a kiss on the cheek, the group is sent back into the alley, each with a fresh cookie in hand.

"That went well!"

"We'll have the strangest wands at Hogwarts."

"I mean, you wouldn't have had to buy an illegal wand."

"No, those all got confiscated. And I don't want one, it's just that she's got, uh, a few, and if a wand likes you then it's hell to convince her that the law could be a problem."

"I mean you wouldn't have had to pay her for one but I guess if she'd be hard to convince..."

"It'd hurt her feelings, though."

"You probably shouldn't buy things that will be confiscated and against the law just to avoid hurting someone's feelings."

"Eh."

Miranda does not think this is a very responsible answer but she keeps it to herself.

"Did your elbow not heal all the way?"

"Possibly?"

"Ms. Halliwell, Ari's arm is still broken a little."

"You're weird," Miranda tells him.

"You know, nobody's actually said that to me before."

"Really?"

"I mean, my cross-section here is Mom, about three incredibly shady people who she allowed into her house, Aurors, social workers, and Sally. Who thought it seemed pretty obvious."

"Oh."

"...I'm not particularly sensitive about the whole thing, if you're burning with curiosity you can feel free to ask."

"I am curious but I'm not sure where to start. If it was in the news or anything I wouldn't have heard it, I've been in Australia for more than a year and only just moved back."

"That's really something," Miranda says. "There's been only dribs and drabs of British news down under, and it was all about Harry Potter, so I missed that entirely."

"Yeah, he's neat. Mum quite liked him. I wonder if I should tell him that if I ever meet him?"

"I'm not sure he would be flattered if your mum was a Dark witch."

Sally nods. "I said this."

"But it'd be fun! I can't imagine he gets many compliments from the other side, it'd be novel and all that."

Sally shakes her head silently.

"I really don't think you better had," Miranda says.

"So you haven't been to Hogwarts before? Are you skipping up a couple years or starting in first like us?"

"Iiiii am starting in first apart from some advanced tutoring. Education à la Mom had some gaps. I have never actually touched a cauldron, for instance. On the other hand, I can set people's lungs on fire nonverbally. So I've got that going for me, which is nice."

"Probably not."

"I basically only know the charms that Mum uses around the house, and by 'know' I mean 'can pronounce', I don't know if I can cast them. And she doesn't brew her own potions much so I've never touched a cauldron either."

"Ooh, household charms. If it turns out you can do them, can I crib some off of you? That's another gap of mine, and I think Hogwarts' curriculum is a bit light on the domestic stuff because they expect parental tutoring."

"Sure. If we assume I can do everything I've seen Mum do I can braid hair and clean things and sort books and pack and unpack and boil a kettle and that sort of thing but that's a big if. I'm definitely going to try rebraiding my hair in about a month when it needs redoing and I'm willing to point a wand at my head."

Sally raises a hand. "Could you teach me ma- maybe teach me too? Your braids are nice."

"Sure! The incantation is platare and," Miranda pulls a wand out of the knot at the back of her head, the pine one from Ollivander's, and describes a shape in the air. "Movement's like that. My mum can do my entire head in braids this small in about twenty minutes. I think it takes Muggles hours."

Sally nods. "I tried once and- just. Didn't. Awful."

"Tried doing your hair with - accidental magic?"

"No, no magic. Just with ties. It was n- a nightmare."

"Oh. Well, there's braids like I have but there's also potions and stuff, whatever. Mum just lets hers fluff everywhere because it amuses small children."

Sally giggles. (Hers is also fluffed, but most is contained in a puff behind her head. It is a large puff.)

"Mum's a wizarding primary school teacher. Five-year-olds," Miranda explains. "She does a lot of things because they amuse small children."

"Ice cream!" grins Miranda.

"I'll translate for the clerks if you like. Everybody knows a bit of English, but it's a bit of a task."

"And you'll have to tell us what all the flavors are."

"That too." He stands by to provide necessary assistance, getting for himself a scoop each of caramel, coffee, and Guinness Cream.

Miranda wants a scoop of cherry and one of chocolate.

Om nom.

"I do! I haven't stopped or anything," says Miranda, who has a spellbook propped open on her lap and her wands crossed in her hair; she has already changed into her school robes and her other belongings are in a trunk with her owl's cage on top of it.

"Excellent!" Ari (still in casual robes) makes himself welcome, and is followed in by Sally, who waves somewhat shyly and sits down. "I have to say, trains are delightful. I kind of want one."

"What would you do with your own train?" asks Miranda, waving at Sally.

"I have no idea. Treasure it?"

"You could get into model trains."

"Ooh, there's a thing. I'll think on it. How've you been since briefly France?"

"I've been pretty good. I like having an owl, and I like the new apartment, and I've been reading through some of our books and they're not exactly well-crafted prose but the content's interesting. Oh, and we're allowed to practice spells on the train, I braided three of my uniform ties together first thing and nothing caught fire so I think I can do the plectere spell now."

Sally bounces slightly. "Can you d- can you do mine?"

"Oh, well done. I kind of want to try some of the household charms, but I feel like I have a higher setting-things-on-fire quotient."

"Yeah, I can do yours," says Miranda. "It'll probably take me more than twenty minutes though. Do you want me to do it right now?"

She hesitates. "Maybe when we're there."

Nod nod.

Ari elects to take out his wand and a rock and try to transfigure the latter into a dove. It is apparently fairly difficult. He still seems to enjoy it somewhat.

"Do you have any more questions about wix things that Ari couldn't answer?" Miranda asks Sally.

"Maybe you should carry a notebook everywhere and write them down as you think of them."

"Maybe? That... hm. I don't know. I should do that. I probably won't? But. I should."

"I carry notebooks everywhere," says Miranda. "And Muggle pens because they're easier to take quick little notes with - you can't really pull out an inkwell in a shop when you're writing against a wall."

"Oh, definitely, the- why do you- why do we use quills? It seems- It's strange. Are we not allowed pens?"

"I brought quills and ink just in case - and got novelty pens with feathers on them - but I don't think it should be a problem. With the teachers, anyway, the students might be right twits about it. I don't know why we haven't switched to pens."

"Why would the students be- wouldn't the teachers be worse?"

"The teachers have to act professional, at least mostly - you might get teachers who won't have pens in their class for some reason but probably none who'll make fun of you for it. If there are bigoted students they can do anything as long as they don't get caught and the worst case of getting caught isn't being fired, it's losing a few House points or getting a detention."

"That will get you in trouble," Miranda points out.

"I would like to ask what about me makes you think I care."

"If you're in detention you can't be Sally's bodyguard at that time," suggests Miranda.

"Honestly, I'm- I'd probably just come with him," Sally murmurs. "We don't really separate."

Ari responds with hugs.

"They could give you separate detentions," Miranda points out, "as the entire point of the exercise is to be unpleasant."

"Well, I suppose they could tell Sally not to visit me during detention. It would be difficult, though. Considering that we have two-way mirrors. And backup devices of that nature. Specifically designed to prevent that sort of thing."

"I'm not a teacher or anything, I'd just be careful if I were you," says Miranda.

"I will. Probably. But I'm still going to beat the shit out of anyone who says or does anything unpleasant to Sally."

Miranda is silent on this subject.

"Is- something wrong?"

"I'm not sure if I should say."

"...I mean, it's not like I'm going to hit you. You seem very unlikely to say hitworthy things, as a person. Also we're friends?"

"Well, I might be unlikely to say hitworthy things, but I don't know exactly how unpleasant I would have to accidentally or incidentally be to Sally before you would decide to hit me for it, so if I care a lot about not being hit, and I kind of do, do you suppose it is really safe to be her friend, and is that something you want anyone to be thinking on the first day of school?"

"Well, the warning you gave me wasn't very clear until after this had already occurred to me," Miranda says.

"Still, I'd recommend being more specific if you need to notify anybody about your - inclination, here. Otherwise it just sounds like you're threatening to hit children smaller than you if they interact with your friend and make a wrong move."

"I mean, you'll notice that I didn't get up and leave the compartment," Miranda says. "But it didn't sound good."

"That would have been unpleasant. I'm glad we didn't make you run away."

Ari re-dedicates his attention to the unfortunate bird, which has backslid into a breccia'd sort of texture. He mutters unpleasantness before resuming nonverbal wandwork.

Sally buys herself a Peppermint Toad and Ari an Acid Pop. He takes it appreciatively. An unpleasant hissing and bubbling sound comes from his mouth; he doesn't seem to mind.

Miranda puts her frogs away for later.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the train, a girl is alone in a compartment putting Spellotaped-ended bits of paper into her Potions reference to clearly mark the locations of key items.

"I won't hex you," giggles the girl. "You're one of the... Santana Vega...? kids."

He slides into the opposite seat. "At least one, yeah. We can't really keep track either."

"Maybe you're three of them all standing on top of each other to go to Hogwarts early."

He raises an eyebrow. "How short would we have to be for that? I mean, look at me." He gestures to his general tininess. "We'd have to all be gnomes, or something. Leo, by the way. I'm Leo."

"Karen," says Karen, sticking out her hand for shaking.

"I want Ravenclaw and I don't have any reason to believe I won't get it," says Karen. "Both my parents were in it. Where did yours go?"

"La Torre Azabache, in Navarro. Great for potions and... Defense Against the Dark Arts. But they had to go to America in the 70s for some reason, and they still can't go back to Spain, but they can be here. So, we're here."

"Well, okay, welcome. They prefer Hogwarts to Salem or whatever else in the States?"

"Well, Salem is an all-girls' school. And they were looking for a change of pace."

"Oh right. And I guess the timing's right to move here if you were thinking about doing it before."

"I mean, it's not the only school in the continent, but it's probably the best, and given Hogwarts is supposed to be better anyway..."

"My mum actually has reservations about the limited curriculum but she says the library will make up for it if I apply myself."

"Yeah, the library is most of why. I'm the family nerd, everybody knows I'll just eat the library no matter what they try to teach me. And the library's great."

"Do you think you'll get Ravenclaw or are you more other things than you are nerd?"

"I mean... I like books, but I wouldn't say it defines me. I'm not sure anything defines me, really. I'm eleven years old, am I supposed to have some kind of life purpose already?"

"Wh- who's after you?" asks Karen. "Should you get a prefect? I saw prefects on my way here."

"There maaaaay be a prefect after me. They are coming, please help."

Karen decides that the best form of cover is probably going back to annotating her book with little Spellotape tags.

"Oh, do we need to be changed into our school robes already?" blinks Karen. "I guess I'll do that. What happened to your face?"

"That boy kicked me," he growls. "In the face. When I told him to change out of his damn muggle clothes and act like a wizard."

Leo shakes his head piously. "Kids these days."

"Well, I can't change if you're standing right there," Karen points out.

"I wonder if he was made a prefect last year while Hogwarts was occupied or something. Anyway, I can't change with you here either, are you going to both leave or should I go find a compartment full of girls to duck into?"

Karen briskly changes into her school robes. She opens the compartment door again while she is doing up her tie and goes back to her book.

"I'm Karen Dwimmer," says Karen, sticking out her hand. "What's your name?"

He shakes her hand. "Xan. Xan Richards. Is 'Dwimmer' a common wizardy name, or?"

"Not common exactly, we aren't a large family, but I don't know of any Muggles with the surname if that's what you mean?"

"...So, like, everybody with the same surname is related? Because my name is common because a bunch of different families have it."

"There are a lot fewer wizards than Muggles," explains Karen. "There might be some Dwimmers who went to Canada long ago or something but it's an English name so if there were more here we'd probably know them."

Xan shakes his head. "Wizard stuff is weird."

"You'll get used to it, I think," says Karen encouragingly. "One of my dad's friends is Muggleborn but I wouldn't have even known if he didn't tell me."

"Just sort of wish I could get the magic without getting dropped into some weird fantasyland full of dead people and racism."

"Dead people? I mean, we had a war, but I think Muggles have those."

"Yeah, we do. We just haven't had any civil wars that killed half our own country recently. You people are apparently one year out of Wizard War II."

"Well, yes. But now it's over."

"Well, yes. If it wasn't, I'd've fucked off to Australia or somewhere. But it's still not what I'd call a barrel of laughs. I can tell you right now that if I'd gone to Hamilton I wouldn't be taking class with the Allied Forces."

"I don't know what those are," apologizes Karen.

"They were like the Muggle equivalent of the people that fought against Grindelwald," explains Leo.

"Oh, hey, you've got primary school history education. How'd that happen?"

Leo blushes intensely. "Dad- Dad's a Muggle Studies professor. He taught us about stuff."

"My primary school didn't cover Muggles more or less at all. Mum thought it ought to, but neither of my parents really knew enough to fill in."

"Shocking, really."

"Well, she thinks we should expect to be interacting with Muggles more as time goes on," says Karen.

"That's good of her, I guess."

"Mm-hm."

"So, um... what do you do? When you're not kicking Prefects in the face."

"Football, mostly. Lends itself well to kicking people in the face."

"That's like... one of the too many kinds of Muggle Quidditch? As there is 'ball' in the name."

Xan scowls. "Quidditch is stupid. But yeah."

"I don't really have the patience for it. My cousins are mad for it."

"It's just... what's the point of a game where one player's half the game? It's like if someone took a real sport and said, 'how can I make this stupid?'"

"But you get to fly around the whole time," ventures Leo.

"Get to fly around playing a stupid game," Xan mutters.

"Maybe you'd like informal pickup Quidditch better. If there's only six players a side it's usually the Seeker gets left out."

"Now, see, that could be fun. And I like the flying rocks. There's a sad lack of flying rocks in the nonmagical sporting world."

"Well, yeah, how would you get the rocks to fly?"

"Audience participation?"

Giggle.

"By the way, on the subject of weird shit that wizards do, are you all raging homophobes or something? Because I get a kind of medieval vibe off of the whole culture, and I like the idea of filling out my Persecution Bingo card."

"Are we all what?"

"Widdershins folk. Do we hate them. Being very widdershins myself, I'm pretty confident the answer is no."

"Oh. Yeah, everybody I know is fine with widdershins people. Are Muggles not?"

Xan rolls his eyes. "Widdershins. I'm in Munchkinland. But no, no they aren't, some are better about it but most are worse. I guess that's one less thing I'll be defending my life against."

"My mum says Muggles are prejudiced about lots of stuff. She went into Muggle Edinburgh once and got called some very rude things."

"Yeah, it's kind of refreshing to only have one set of assholes to deal with. Even if yours are more murderous."

"Well, the good guys won."

"Ah, yes. Because there are no more blood purists any more. Racism has vanished. Finally, we are free forever. God save the Queen."

"Okay, there will be some idiots, but they're idiots."

"They usually are."

"I can- help, if you want. With the idiots. I'm good with hexes, I can swap their feet with their hands and stuff. If you want."

"Oh, your parents let you do magic early? Mine were really strict about it."

"The American Council doesn't even have a law against supervised underage magic in the home. Not that your Ministry would care, if you were casting in a wizarding household."

"Yeah, some of my cousins have got ahold of wands and tried things but I never manged it."

"I didn't get to play around with my wand at all. I've got a trick I can do without it, though, I can throw an invisible punch. I don't think that counts technically or I'd probably have already had a run-in with the wizard cops."

"Oh, you have consistent accidental magic? Lucky. I just get one-offs."

"Yeah, it's fun. Kind of weak, but that doesn't mean it can't help me out of a fight. Nobody expects a black eye while they've got the other guy in a headlock, I can tell you that."

"This must be a boy thing."

"You could say that. Personally I think it's closer to an 'angry queer ten-year-old who hates everyone' thing."

Shrug.

Miranda is obliged to exit the train more sedately, wheeling her trunk behind her. She releases Amber so that the owl will not be a casualty if she has a spill.

"Want me to carry your luggage? I am strong like bull."

"My mum told me how sorting works because we didn't think I was going to Hogwarts."

"Supposedly it's usually a secret, but I'm not sure why. Are you sure you want me to tell you?"

"It's not a troll it's a hat. It's a magic hat and you put it on and it figures out what house you belong in."

"...I assume so. Anyway I'm pretty sure if you get nits they can be magicked away pretty quick."

The headmistress turns around. "Hello. You're... Ebele Swan, correct? Did you need something before the Sorting?"

"I need you to call me by my middle name," says Miranda. "I don't go by my first." And you can't pronounce it.

"...Well enough, I suppose. I'll make a note of it. Miranda."

"Thank you."

"If you would return to your group? We should be starting shortly."

Back into the herd goes Miranda.

Miranda applauds politely.

As the final name is called (something Xavier), Ari lets out a "Huzzah!" (This does not alleviate the general confusion surrounding Ari's existence.)

Professor McGonagall, along with some others, looks at him oddly. She then launches into a grand speech about persistence and endurance and the value of wisdom and courage. She requests a moment of silence for those "who should be in this hall today". She concludes with: "While I have not always been the best at following it, I shall always try to remember the advice of my predecessor. In this case, one piece springs to mind; 'Keep the speeches short, Minerva, the children need to eat.'"

She sits, to general applause.

Miranda eats. She introduces herself to Karen. She does not volunteer to explain her prolonged facial-expression-inducing Sorting.

The Ravenclaw girls (of whom there are exactly two) come in together and are seated next to each other, nearish Ari and Sally.

She stands stiffly. "We will be learning Defense Against the Dark Arts. We will learn an introductory combat spell, the stinging hex. Pair off by desk." She points her wand at her left arm and demonstrates incantation and movement, leaving a red welt; she doesn't react to the spell. She waves her wand at the blackboard, leaving instructions. "Begin."

Karen raises her hand.

She points to Karen. "You."

"Professor, perhaps we could practice the hex on dueling target dummies, since that's what they're for?"

"...Hm. Yes. That would be a good idea. I don't have any of those."

"Well, then, maybe we could do this in another lesson, after you have found some," suggests Karen.

"...I assume you will revolt if I tell you to simply cast it on each other regardless, because you fear pain."

"Also making students cast painful spells on each other, um, is associated with things from last year," says Karen softly.

Nobody in this class has been personally traumatized by Grindylows.

Miss Jenkins explains the ins and outs of the species, stiffly but in great detail. Dark creatures seem to be a specialty of hers.

Miranda takes notes, relaxing over the course of the class.

By the end of class, Miss Jenkins has recovered what bearing she ever had. "Write an essay for me on the relationship between grindylows and the lesser kappa by next week. Five hundred words. For one point extra credit, include one hundred words on strangler kelp. Five points to Ravenclaw for explaining the problem earlier. Go away now."

The Ravenclaw girls both write down the assignment and get up to go. They try not to give meaningful "what the fuck was that" looks to their Hufflepuff acquaintances until they are out in the hall.

"I feel sort of sorry for her but liking her takes it a little too far," Miranda says dubiously. "Oh, Ari, Sally, this is Karen Dwimmer. Karen, these are Ari whose surname I'm not at all sure of based on hat timing because he told me it was Smith, and Sally Martin, we met in Diagon Alley."

"It's nice to meet you," says Karen, offering a hand to shake.

Leo, in turn, extends a hand to Miranda. "Leonardo Carlos Santana Vega del Monte de la Cruz. Leo Santana Vega. Hello. I am in fact in Hufflepuff."

Shake shake. "Miranda Swan. I could tell from your uniform."

"You can never be too sure. I could be a Slytherin spy, perhaps. Color-changing charm is pretty easy. Lying, on the other hand, is impossible."

"Well, you're also in our Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff combined class."