Chapter Six
The next morning I am up early, well, earlier than the other girls. I grab my things and make my way to the bathing rooms. It may not be the norm around here but I quite like daily hygiene. Morgana is not happy that she has to wait while I clean up. She completely shredders what substitutes as a towel 'round here.
I drop my things off – the other four are still sleeping – and make my way down to the Great Hall with a small side trip outside so that Morgana can do her business as well.
The hall is empty. Not even the adults are here. I sit down at one end of the table (that's one side less where food can come flying from). There is no food on the tables yet but as soon as I sit down, Rinka appears and asks me if I want to wait for the others – not really – or if I want something now. I get a bowl of broth from the day before.
Luckily, I am finished by the time the first of the others arrive. The first one is Cepheus Black who is dragging his cousin with him. He looks annoyed once he spots me. Apparently he doesn't like to be bested in anything, even if it is getting up first. He chooses a place for them to sit as far away from me as possible. Great...
A couple of minutes later a whole flock of girls appear, with Willard at the front. They claim the middle part of my table. I ignore them mostly. They sat away from me, I am not getting up and changing seats to sit next to them. Plus, they are loud and annoying. I try to tune them out.
Godiva sits down facing me and drops her head on the table. “Sleepy.” she mumbles. “Can't they be quiet? I want to sleep.”
I laugh lightly and shake my head. “I doubt it.”
“Damn.”
She looks like a coffee addict in the morning, only I don't think coffee exists yet. One of the house elves – one I haven't met before – gives her a steaming goblet of something. It looks like sludge. Godiva sips the stuff and I can literally watch her wake up and get lively.
The hall gets crowded and loud. I thought yesterday was loud but this is even louder. Seems like quite a few of them were still scared yesterday and... well, they're probably still a bit scared but they already spent a night here and this new day is exciting...
The teachers arrived sometime in the chaos. Helga and Rowena still look slightly ill at the sight of the students eating. None of the adults are eating. They probably already ate in the kitchens. Slytherin is ignoring everyone and reading a scroll. Rowena stops watching and starts to write something. Godric is happily oblivious and tries to regale Helga and Æthelred with some stories. Both are more suffering through it than actually listening.
After a while Rowena says something to Godric and he gets up and claps his hands. The hall is instantly quiet. They really like special effects. If I hadn't been watching them anyway (leave me alone, they are the founders!) I would've missed Helga and Rowena casting some spells under the table. Those must've been some kind of silencing spells with Godric's clapping merely for effect.
“Now that I have your attention, I will explain today's agenda. After breakfast – that means now – you will be sorted into your preliminary class levels. Since this is the first year we're teaching you, there will be no class four. Only few will be sorted into class three. Most of you will be in class one and two. As we said yesterday, these class affiliations are not permanent.
“You will be in these classes for the beginning but if you are above or below the level of these classes we will move you. In the beginning they are so that we can properly determine your real level.
“Like yesterday with the houses, you will be sorted in the order you've arrived. So listen up and remember your group.”
He sits down and like yesterday, Helga takes over. She calls out the name followed by the class number. I tune her out after my turn – what use is listening to the names if I don't even know who they belong to.
I am in level one. I'm not surprised that I ended up there despite my age considering that I apparently am the single, only muggle-born student in the entire school.
x_X_x
“Now,” Oh, Godric's voice again, I better pay attention now. “that we've taken care of that, all belonging to class Two can leave the hall. Class Three can leave as well – your first lesson will be together with class two. You will have lessons with Professor Slytherin.”
Salazar seems really unimpressed.
“Class One will remain here. Your first lesson will be with Professor Hufflepuff. Your lesson will begin in a couple of minutes. I suggest you move closer to the head table once the others have left.
“Class Two and Three, please follow me and Professor Slytherin.”
There is a lot of running around, and at least four people run up to Professor Hufflepuff because they missed which class they're in. Slowly but surely the hall empties. Only about half of the students remain. Godiva is one of those who leave.
Since I was sitting at the end facing the head table I just wait until this mess is over.
“Hey there.” The small boy from yesterday comes running and skips to a stop in front of me and almost over-balances. He manages to catch himself and sits down in Godiva's seat.
“You're in Slytherin as well!” He happily proclaims. And yes, he is wearing a Slytherin clothes pin as well. Why me?
“I am Myrddin Emrys.” Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. Seriously. Myrddin Emrys. Holy mother of... Merlin. That's Merlin sitting there right in front of me. The Merlin.
I force myself to answer before the pause becomes awkward.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Honoria Wulfric.” I smile at him.
“Nice.” He nods happily. “So what do you think our first lesson will be?”
“Mhm. Well, since Professor Hufflepuff is teaching... either Etiquette or Charms. And since I doubt they'd start with Charms and added the fact that we were told to remain in the Great Hall, it's probably going to be Etiquette.”
“Wow.” He blinks. “I didn't think of that.”
“Now, find a seat and quiet down.”
The instant silence is eerie. I doubt that it will remain that easy to silence the students though.
Helga smiles at us.
“Your first lesson will be in Etiquette.”
“Wow, you predicted that!” I sigh over his exclamation. Everyone is quiet but no. Merlin has to... basically yell. Now everyone is staring at us. Yay.
Helga shoots a look in our direction but continues as if nothing had happened.
“We will start with something fundamental – table manners.” Oh, thank god.
A small girl three seats down is asking her neighbour what “table manners” even means. This is going to be a loooong lesson.
During the mayhem of everyone either leaving or finding a seat, the elves had cleaned the tables. Now cutlery appears on it. There are some sort of knife, a spoon and a kind of fork with only two... fingers? How are those things even called? I've seen something similar used for spearing meat or cheese.
“Can anyone name what these objects in front of each of you are?”
“Daggers!.” someone from further down the second table yells out.
“Please raise your hand if you know the answer and then I will call on you. But in regards to that answer, not quite. Can someone correct her?”
No one raises their hands. I wait and after a few moments hesitatingly raise my hand.
“Yes, Hono... Ms. Wulfric?”
“Knifes?” My answer is more of a question than an answer, but she nods.
“Correct. Can someone tell me the difference?”1
Silence.
“No? No matter. We will return to that later then. Now, what else is there?”
Again, no one answers.
“A fork and a spoon. Can anyone which one's which?”
Some poor boy, around 10 maybe, answers.
“Correct. But please, in the future, raise your hand. Now, which of those utensils is used for what?”
Why do I have to go through this? I know which to use when, even if they aren't what I am used to, it is obvious which modern item they're the equivalent of.
“NOW,” and wow Helga can be loud if she wants, “the most important thing: Chew with your mouths closed.”
Finally. I hope they take that to heart, I don't know how many meals like the dinner yesterday I'd survive otherwise.
Helga quizzes them on what each of the utensils is, how they are used and when and for what a couple of times. Boooooring. Seriously, what are this people doing? That question has been answered five times so far and you still don't know the answer...
Merlin looks like a kicked puppy when it's his turn but he manages to answer correctly. He looks right proud of it too, not that it's much to be proud of. Sigh. I feel as if as if I'm surrounded by preschoolers.... which probably isn't that far off.
Helga then goes on to tell them about how you should only bite off as much as one can chew. And that one should chew with their mouth closed. That one shouldn't just reach over others – ask if someone can pass you something. And eat with your mouth closed. I think I'm seeing a pattern here.
I tune her out mostly – the things she's saying is obvious to me mostly. Natural, taken for granted basically. To my amusement she returns to the mouth-closed thing a lot. Like every second point on her agenda. Subtlety thy name is not Helga Hufflepuff.
I suffer through the lesson. It does take ages. And ages. And ages. It only stops when the others return for lunch.
The only thing of interest (to me) that she said it that our pets also have to learn manners and that we're responsible for that ourself. They have to be house trained. We are responsible for feeding them, cleaning them, letting them relieve themselves and so on. Apparently one of the girls' dorm rooms was …. pretty much an animal toilet this morning.
I guess I got lucky. So far I had no problems with Morgana. I've taken her outside whenever she needed to go – wolves are similar to dogs so I treated her like one in that aspect – and the house elves are really helpful if I ask them for some meat for her. But I'm guessing that it won't remain that easy. At the moment she's pretty complacent and I doubt it'll stay that way. If she's anything like any pet I know she's going to try testing the boundaries soon. Her being more intelligent than other wolves will probably only make it worse instead of helping with it. And she does seem more intelligent to me, not that I have much experience with wolves if any.
Lunch is... where they even listening? I resolve to grab a bite in the kitchen as soon as I can make a get away. There is no way I am eating here and now. Merlin at least is trying but some of the others... I mean, yes, habits are hard to break but they could at the very least make an effort. They don't even try. Sure, some of them are – young Eridanus for example is trying valiantly as well. So are others. But there are also some who seemingly can't be bothered. On the other hand... half the people here didn't even have that lesson yet, so maybe it only seems as if people aren't putting enough effort into it.
To distract myself I watch the head table again. Don't sue me, the founders are interesting. Helga watches the students despairingly, Rowena in disdain, Salazar is hiding behind his goblet and Godric seems completely oblivious. He's eating happily. Then again, he's only looking at his on plate, not towards the students and up there on the head table he doesn't have to worry about the food from other people flying around and landing on his plate.
Salazar is sipping his goblet with the air of someone who is in a place that is far far beneath them. Right now I can't even fault him for that.
At the end of lunch Godric announces that lessons will be switched now. Second and Third class will have Etiquette now and First class will have lessons with Salazar.
Merlin attaches himself to my side when they lead us to our classroom in the dungeons. Some of the older students are even trying to scare younger students by telling them that we're being led to torture. Really? Bullies.
A girl my age tells them off for scaring her brother. Good. I don't have to get involved then. I'm probably going to stick out enough as it is no need to make it worse.
And yes, a couple of steps behind me, Mildred is telling the boy next to her all about how there's an actual non-magical witch here at Hogwarts. I'm guessing she means me though I find the description a bit confusing. A witch is magical, end of story. But she probably means a witch of non-magical origin or something.
And, even better, the boy is now asking her who'd led such a monster into the school. Monster? Really? I can already see that this going greatly. Sigh. Well, I've been called names before. I'll handle it. Somehow.
By the time we've arrived at our class room the news that we have a 'non-magical witch' has spread to half the class. The girl who tells me about it is completely scandalized that they'd let someone like that close to children. I feel a sense of dark amusement that she is ranting to me about it.
In all seriousness though, what do these people think they know about muggles? Because it sounds as if 'muggle' was a contagious sickness. And here I thought the whole pure-blood thing only really started in the nineteenth, twentieth century.
Then she asks me what I think about it. I ask her if she's ever actually met a muggle – she hasn't and my questions takes the wind right out of her sails. She blinks, blinks again and asks the one who told her the exact same question. Huh. I didn't expect that.
What did they think a “non-magical witch” was? Do they have even the slightest notion? To me, they sound as if their telling ghost stories to each other.
Godric tells them all to quiet down as we've arrived.
We are shown into a class room that could maybe hold forty people at the same time. It has no windows – not even magical ones (do they exist yet? After all the ceiling was normal as well). There are four rows of desks and a blackboard at the front. I let Merlin pull me to a desk at the other end of the room.
Godric sits down in the back of the room and Salazar walks to the front and writes something on a blackbord. The blackboard is actually a strange reddish-brown. The chalk if that's what it is, is whitish beige.
“As you should know, I am Professor Slytherin. I will teach you Rune Magic and Latin. We will see if you have any talent for that....” That last sentence is more of an afterthought and probably not meant for us to overhear. “But before we start with proper lessons, we will have to teach you how to read and write. Who of you can read? Wulfric, what did I write on the board?”
He didn't give us any time to answer his question. He just called on me immediately after. Of course he had to start with me...
“Welcome to Hogwarts.”
He blinks. Apparently he hadn't expected that. It seems he hadn't heard about me being able to read – and having spent hours in the library already once.
He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'lucky guess' and I can hear Godric trying and failing to stifle a snigger.
He erases it and writes something else. “Mr. Weasley?”
The Weasley stutters out that he can't read. As does 'Ms. Selwyn' – the girl who told those students off earlier – and one of the Peverell twins. Young Eridanus Black on the other hand can read. It's slow and staggering but he manages.
After a while they split the class into who can read and who can't. It's about half and half. Maybe a third can read kind of fluently but half of the class has at least an idea of how to read. In theory they know the letters but they lack the practice.
I'm just glad that the Latin alphabet had already been introduced in this time. Many of the older – non-greek, non-roman – texts in Rowena's possession were written in runes. And my knowledge of runes is limited. I now that there's the Furthark alphabet, and I recognize the runes as runes but to actually read them. I can identify one or two at the most.
Godric is taking those who absolutely can't read to the class room next door to teach them their letters and Salazar is going to teach us how to write. Just because people can read doesn't mean they can write after all.
He gives each of us remaining a sheet of parchment and tells us to start with writing our name on top of it. Easy.
Or so I thought. While I can write, this body of mine has never learned it. In theory I know the moves but there's no muscle memory. At university when we were bored, a friend of mine and I sometimes tried to write stuff with our left hands. (We both are right-handed.) That was already crippled and not exactly easy to read, not to mention slow as hell... Well, this is even worse.
The fact that we're using quills and ink isn't exactly helping either.
My name is only barely resembling letters. Out of curiosity I try to switch hands but that brings no improvement. I'm still right-handed I guess. I sigh.
Salazar tells us to write a couple of simple sentences of our choosing as an exercise. I have no idea what to write, so I describe the library in the castle. My writing actually gets a bit better. It's minimal but the act of writing is getting easier a bit. Not that it gets more legible. It's still a mess.
Salazar walks through the rows of desks and takes a look at our work.
“Wulfric, what are those squiggles supposed to be?” Well, excuse me for never having written before. And don't think I missed the fact that you're calling me Wulfric, while everyone else is Miss X or Mister Y.
“My name and a description of the library, Professor.”
“That's neither a name nor a description.”
“Begging your pardon, Professor. I have never written anything before today.” That makes me want to hurl, but let's pretend to play nice with that prick of a professor. Never meet your heroes is definitely a sound bit of advice. While I wouldn't exactly call Salazar a hero the point remains. People will always shatter your preconceptions and turn out worse – unless you are a prejudiced arse. Not necessarily worse actually just different. No person is exactly the way you imagined them, not even you yourself.
Salazar snorts at me, tells me “Well, then you'll have to practice more, don't you?” (You don't say.) and moves on to his next victim.
Mukashi mukashi otoko ga arikeri...2 Okay, drifting off while writing is dangerous. Even if my writing were legible, that sentence still would make no sense if any of the people here read it. I strike it out and since I need something useful to write start to write Aragorn's poem3 – it's something I memorised for fun and at least it's in English.
On his second round through the rows, Salazar tells people to read what they've written. When it is my turn I reluctantly read out the poem. He narrows his eyes and contemplates something.
“Are you a Seer?” He looks like someone who's bitten into a lemon or the like. I blink. And blink. And then I desperately try not to burst out laughing.
On second thought.... he's not that far off, either. I do know stuff from a possible future after all. Still.
I shake my head. “No, sir.”
He delicately raises a brow. “No? I see.” I wonder what he judged me for now because that was definitely judging. But he does not say anything else to me.
“Mr. Black.”
“The sun is setting and the stars rise, Men are settling and the man is wise?” It sounds more like a question but Salazar only nods and moves on so I guess that Eridanus was reciting a known poem of this time.
One girl describes her pet sea gull, a boy repeatedly wrote the same sentence (I am eleven)... After making his second round, Salazar sighs and starts writing big letters on the board – an alphabet – and tells us to copy it down.
There are fewer letters than I expected. There is no modern “J” or “K” or “Q”. He makes another round and corrects us. Most of us have to start over, since they just wrote the letters down instead of copying it. I am one of the few lucky ones, I only had to do one letter over and over and over again, the rest were acceptable by the second try. Acceptable does not mean good though.
It reminds me of my Japanese lessons. There we also had to copy the kanji instead of just writing them however we wanted. Formal lessons are no place for unreadable calligraphy. We were supposed to write it almost as if it were printed – except for those kanji where the written and the printed version differed.
Stop drifting off, Honoria! Slytherin dislikes you enough already. No reason to make it worse. I try to reign myself in and go back to writing random stuff down, this time trying to use the copied shiny new letters. It doesn't work that great and I restart copying the alphabet.
This is very frustrating. Writing is something we do every day. At school, at university, at work. Writing notes, a shopping list, dates... I know I am always scribbling stuff down. Not being able to do that the way I am used to... I do not like it. At all. It is disconcerting. The whole of the new-other-body thing is already disconcerting but that is chronic and I can mostly ignore it. And then something like this happens. Once I think I got used to it a new hurdle appears.
Again this lesson only ends because one of the house-elves pops in to tell Salazar that dinner was finished. He gives out some parchment so that we can practice a bit till the next lesson and sends us to dinner.
Outside the classroom we meet the rest of class one again and Godric tells us that we can go to dinner now and that we have to be in our dorms two hours later.
I split away as soon as possible. There is no way I'm eating a meal with the others that I do not have to. Not until they learn how to eat properly.
As far as the first day of lessons went, this is pretty disappointing. We didn't get to do any magic. It wasn't even mentioned today. I hope we get to do something tomorrow.
I groan. There are footsteps behind me. Why? I stop and turn around. It's Merlin.
“Where are you going?”
“The kitchens.”
“Can I tag along?”
“Sure Emrys.”
“Call me Myrddin.”
“Only if you call me Honoria.”
He grins happily. …. oh my god. I am now on a first name basis with friggin' Merlin.
We make our way to the kitchens where we are greeted by Bipp who is overjoyed that I am visiting again (that we prefer them to the other humans to be exact). He is happy to get us some food and we even manage to harangue him into sitting down and eating with us. Emotional blackmail for the win.
I just had to look sad when he first declined and Merlin asked him if he didn't like us and that was that.
It is really relaxing to be able to eat in peace. Or as much peace as you can have with Merlin talking a mile a minute and Bipp being overawed at being allowed to eat with us. That's annoying. I resolve to try and get them (him) more used to it. It even has the nice side-effect of gossip. Once he finally unfreezes enough to actually talk – and Merlin is letting him talk – we learn a few interesting anecdotes.
Mr. Hill (he was in class one as well) lost his way thrice on the way to breakfast. Bed-wetting happened less than they expected. (I really could've done without that information.) There was an explosion in the dungeons at midnight – either one of Rowena's or Salazar's experiments, I guess. And almost none of the students thought to bring their pets outside for them to do their business – the elves had to clean several hall ways several times today.
After dinner I drag Merlin outside for exactly that. Morgana runs around a bit while we watch on and I find out that at the moment she seems to listen to what I tell her – she almost runs into the lake and when I yell at her to get back here, she returns. She's definitely more intelligent than a normal wolf – without any training she technically shouldn't be able to understand what I want from her. I pet her head and scratch her between her ears.
I ask Merlin if he has a pet and he reaches into a robe pocket and pulls out a small kitten.
He shrugs. “She doesn't do much. Just sleeps mostly.”
The kitten purrs when he scratches her neck. She is cute. Really small, pure black with a white pattern on its back.
“Does she have a name?”
He shakes his head. “No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
He shrugs again.
“She needs a name.”
“I know... I just haven't found one yet.... And I don't want to call her kitty or pussy...”
“Hm... you can look for a name in the library soon.”
I sigh. “Let's go. We need to be at our dorms soon.” He nods, puts her in his pocket again and spins on the spot so that he faces the same direction as I am – the one we need to go – but he over-balances and falls flat on his nose.
“Eh.” Wow, he's clumsy. “Are you all right?”
He jumps up again and nods. “That didn't even hurt. Don't worry I trip all the time.”
How is that supposed to be reassuring?
“And the kitten?”
“Oh, she's fine. My uncle charmed that pocket. Nothing can happen to her while she's in there. That is why she's in there most of the time actually.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “I'm just glad that today was one of the better days.”
This time he walks in a more sedate pace. I shake my head in disbelief. This is Merlin? He is so different from what I expected. Well, Rome wasn't built in one day either.
We barely make it back before curfew.
1In this case the number of cutting edges. One on a knife and two on a dagger.
2The beginning of an old japanese story – the Taketori monogatari. The sentence is pretty iconic.
3„All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.“
Tolkien: Lord of the Rings – The Fellowship of the Ring Chapter 10: „Strider“
