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Chapter Text

SERIES PROLOGUE

She was tiny and slender – that was the first thing everyone noticed. The second thing, were her eyes. Blazing blue with an inner light. A brightness, as though fevered. At once both icy cold and burning, alight with sheer malice and contempt. A lightning flash lit her face and the bright blue eyes glowed and glittered in the sudden silver light.

She stalked forward, forearms bare and robes billowing behind her in the wind as she stepped through the crowd, people scurrying in their haste to get away. A half smile curled her lips. She reached the center of the great rock and climbed easily with long decisive strides. At the top, she joined the group of gathering shapes in dark robes and turned to survey the battlefield.

Her hair flew about her face, the wind lifting and twisting it wildly. The oppressive, too-warm air flying about, whipping away the anguished cries and shouts of defiance in the darkness. Lightning forked across the sky followed almost immediately by an earsplitting crash of thunder. People cowered; fearful eyes turned toward the tall, gleeful woman before them.

She opened her arms and let her head fall back as though to embrace the storm itself as more lighting scribbled across the sky, briefly illuminating the cowering forms of her enemies. A fierce and terrible joy rose within her and she laughed aloud, the bubbling of sound heard even above the thunder. Magic crackled from her open fingertips and fizzed through her hair.

At once, lightning struck the ground once, twice – either side of the rock. There were startled shrieks and movement as people scrambled away in their panic. The Lady’s followers however stood fast. Grim eyed, confident and still.

She laughed again. A thrilled, excited laugh that whipped around them with the wind. The eyes gleamed with victory. She alone had the power. She had won. She had won.

Iris, still numb, saw the scene before her in an almost detached manner. As though she were somewhere else just watching a movie with her parents again, something she hadn’t done in so long. It was at that moment, as the Lady gazed triumphantly around the scene of destruction that it happened.

Their eyes met, then locked. Iris felt the jolt of recognition in the pit of her stomach at the same moment she saw those burning blue eyes recognize her. Something flashed in that gaze and was gone before Iris could get a read on it. She felt something now. Shock. Anger. Confusion. How could this be possible? How could it be her? Iris’ mind tried to deny the evidence that was right in front of her eyes.

All these families, torn apart. All these kind and brave people dead. The fear and the pain, all this evil. All along it was her? Her mind boggled, trying to reconcile what she now knew with what she remembered. She felt cold and her heart was laden with dread.

The Dark Lady, still staring into her eyes, beckoned her imperiously with a crooked finger. Without a moment to consider, to plan – Iris rose, blood and her own wind-whipped hair partially obscuring her vision and limped slowly forward to obey the summons.

Chapter Text

WITCHERY PROLOGUE

The room was large, and dark. The candles lit in strategic areas only served to barely illuminate the darkness without dispelling it. Figures in cowled cloaks gathered, a silent crowd with shadows for faces and an air of purpose about them.

It gave ‘Handy Haz’ the heebie-jeebies, it really did. He shifted from foot to foot nervously, completely failing to hide his nervousness. Why didn’t any of these weirdos make a sound? Nobody was even sniffing, or so much as clearing a throat. It was terrifying. He belatedly wondered if that was the point.

“May I introduce our guest, Harold Cole Notting? Introduced to us here as Handy Haz, known as Ol’ Haz to his friends, Unca Hold to his young nephew and Daddy to his three children Derrik, Jesse and Ashlynn.” a deep gravelly voice spoke out of the silence, causing Harold to jump and his pulse to race. His mouth was suddenly bone dry. They knew his name. His kid’s names.

The crowd with faces hidden in shadow all turned to stare at him and Harold’s mind went blank with fear.

“Harold has agreed to obtain the artifact on our behalf, and to bring it to us before the end of the month.” the voice continued, its cultured tones precise and steady. The rest of them just continued to stare. A hundred eyes he could not see all drank in his appearance, his facial features. They all knew exactly what he looked like and by Merlin, they knew his kids names!

“We have all agreed, dear friends,” the voice continued. Harold turned, he couldn’t for the life of him work out which one was talking. Not that it mattered. He couldn’t see a single identifying feature of any of them. “that Harold’s payment for this service will be three thousand Serpents, to be paid in cash at the delivery of the artefact to us by the agreed date.”

Harold’s breathing was speeding up, as he turned again searching for the speaker. It had to be the same one that told him about the job and the payment offered earlier in the evening. There were only three of them then. Still shadowy faces, but still just three in a comfortable sitting room with a finger of firewhiskey for each. The voice had been a lot warmer and friendlier, then.

He had assured them that it would be a walk in the park to perform the task they asked of him. A simple snatch and go? In and out before the glass finished tinkling? Even the museum’s security was laughable to one as experienced as he in the matters of ‘acquisition and redistribution’, as the voice had called it.

“In a gesture of goodwill, we will give Harold one thousand Serpents now, and the remaining two thousand to be paid at the delivery of our item.” the voice continued. There was a jingle and a thump as a bag of gold coins appeared at Harold’s feet. Non-verbal and guestureless magic? Harold swore not a single one of them had moved. He was only just beginning to realise the depth of the mess he was in.

“Should Harold be unable to perform this service for us,” the voice didn’t change its steady, almost pleasant tone, “he will of course return our deposit and in apology I am sure he, his delightful life partner Sheila Hobson and their three beautiful children will host us to a soirée at his charming home in Pickering Street. It is just across the river, you know. Lovely views.”

The cowled crowd nodded their agreement in silence. Harold tried to swallow. They even knew Sheila’s name. They knew where he lived!

“You may go, Harold. We look forward to hearing of your success and receiving the artefact.” the voice, all the more chilling for its extreme politeness dismissed him. Harold remained frozen to the spot for a few moments, he had begun to sweat heavily.

The cowled figures all turned away from him, facing the windows and now ignoring him entirely. Harold scooped up the heavy bag of coins, and made a hasty exit.

What the hell was he going to do? His mind whirled a million miles a minute as he scurried down the corridor he’d entered by, let himself out of the building and almost sprinted down the deserted street to the bushes he’d stashed his broom under. There was no way he was going to try apparating right now. No way.

**************************************************

Chapter 1 – An Unexpected Visitor

The sun glared out of a cloudless, infinitely blue sky over the landscape rippling with heat. There was no movement in the air and even the busy traffic of a bustling city was quieter and slower than normal. The beaches and public swimming pools however, were crowded even as the sun reaches its zenith.

The suburbs baked in the height of an Australian January, well-watered gardens wilting and the landscape was still and quiet. Even the birds were sheltering in the trees, reluctant to leave their sanctuaries. The ground was bone dry and heat danced above the roads. The footpaths were empty, curtains drawn against the sun as people spent the day indoors enjoying air conditioning and a quiet, lazy Sunday.

There was a loud pop in one unremarkable suburban street, and a man appeared out of thin air on the footpath. Glancing around, he briefly read the street sign, and checked the address on an envelope before returning it to his pocket. He adjusted the slant of his dusty hat and strode purposefully along the street, his footsteps unheard above the loud drone of air conditioning units and the occasional sprinkler.

He stopped for a moment, before a charming older house with immaculate lawns, considering as he gazed at the neat garden beds and tidy veranda. This, he knew, would take some careful handling. He took a deep breath and walked forward, stowing the wand he’d been holding in his hand and raising his hand to knock at the door.

It took but a moment for the knock to be answered by a large beefy man with neatly combed blonde hair. The big man’s expression changed from mild curiosity to outright suspicion in an instant.

“Yes?” He demanded.

“G’day!” the visitor grinned cheerily. “You must be Dudley Dursley. My name is Rueben Daku. May I come in?”

Dudley Dursley glared as he took in the older man’s odd appearance. The dusty akubra, the electric blue streak in his beard. The outdated cut of his shirt.

“What do you want? Are you collecting for charity?” the big man asked.

Before any answer could be given, a girl’s voice came from the depths of the cool house behind him.

“Dad? Who is it?” a girl appeared at his side, and he tucked his arm protectively around the girl. The stranger smiled down at the child as she stared at his oddly coloured beard.

“You must be Iris Dursley. I am a teacher at a school for… well gifted kids. I would like to have a little chat about Iris’ future education.” Rueben Daku responded, looking back to Dudley. The big man’s eyes narrowed.

“Gifted kids? What school are you on about?” he demanded.

“I am the Deputy Head of Nyambi School of Enchantment.” He responded, drawing an envelope from his breast pocket, “Iris has been invited to attend.”

Dudley Dursley’s face paled and he stared at the strange man, mouth agape, unable to think of anything to say.

“Dad?” the young girl looked up at her father in puzzlement. “What’s going on?”

“Why are you even here?” Dudley managed to choke out. “You mean there are more of you? One of those schools, here?”

“You bet!” Mr Daku responded cheerily, “One of the best in the world.”

“But, not Iris. Not my daughter. She’s not… she’s not one of you!” he spluttered.

“I think,” Mr Daku replied gently, “I had better come inside.”

******

"You're from where?" Nadia Dursley asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. Her perfectly styled curls were swept back with two combs to keep them off her face and neck, which emphasised her elegant features. She sat bolt upright on the lounge beside her husband, perfectly poised with her hands clasped and ankles crossed. Nadia glared at the stranger sitting across from her.

"Nyambi School of Enchantment. I'm the Deputy Head and the Potions teacher as well." Reuben responded cheerfully, turning his head slightly to wink at the small boy squirming next to his mother.

"Why is your beard blue?" the boy wanted to know.

"Hush Taj." His mother admonished but rather than being offended, Reuben Daku looked quite pleased with the question and responded with enthusiasm.

"Keeps the Bunyips away." he answered "I also put vegemite behind me ears for drop-bears." he added. The blonde boy's eyes went wide whereas Nadia tsk’d in annoyance.

Dudley Dursley was slowly reading the letter that Reuben Daku had handed him, sitting the other side of his wife.

"You're telling me," he said slowly, "that my daughter will be a witch? How is that even possible? She can't be!"

"She most certainly is, Mr Dursley. Her name has been down to attend Nyambi since your family moved to this land. Magic often runs in families, I understand you have quite a famous wizard cousin, yourself?" Mr Daku asked.

Dudley gazed at his dark face for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. Iris' eyes widened and Nadia's eyes narrowed even further, penciled brows drawing together.

"Yes," Dudley responded slowly, "Harry Potter is my cousin. I think my Aunt, his mother was a witch but she died years ago. I never met her."

"There you go." Reuben responded, nodding. "If your cuz got his magic from your Auntie, she would have inherited it from somebody further back in the family tree. It crops up from time to time further down the generations. Isn't genetics wonderful?"

Dudley Dursley looked distinctly like 'wonderful' was a term he would definitely not consider for the situation.

"What? Dad! You never said there was magic in the family!" Iris cried in delight. "That's so cool! I knew there was something different about me!"

"This is the biggest load of rubbish I have ever heard." Nadia Dursley snapped, she stood up and glared down her long nose at Reuben. "There is no such thing as magic. I think you need to leave before I call the police and tell them a mad old tramp is refusing to leave my living room." She eyed his battered, dusty old hat, wild grey hair and ridiculously outdated clothing in distaste.

"Oh no, luv, you don't want me to leave, not yet." Reuben Daku twinkled up at her cheerily. He removed a slender piece of wood from his sleeve and Dudley immediately flinched away, throwing a protective arm across his daughter who looked startled. Nadia opened her mouth to retort but never had the chance to speak.

In a trice, he had said something softly none of them understood and flicked the piece of wood. The coffee table immediately vanished and, in its place, stood a cantankerous looking wombat which promptly defecated on the carpet and waddled off toward the kitchen.

Young Taj Dursley howled in laughter. Iris had a hand clapped to her mouth but couldn't stifle her delighted giggles. Dudley looked grim and his wife screeched shrilly.

"I'll just bet that weird things have happened around Iris since she was quite small. Strange, unexplained things that happened when she was scared, or upset?" Reuben asked, his deep brown eyes watching the Dursley's carefully. Dudley and a shocked Nadia exchanged a pointed look. Iris appeared to be thinking hard and Taj had already taken to his heels chasing the grunting wombat through the house.

"That was magic? What I did?" Iris asked, eyes wide and sparkling.

"What did you do?" Rueben asked her. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at her parents but Dudley nodded so she turned back to answer.

"When I was three I escaped the house and ran straight into the road in front of a car. I bounced off and ended up back on the footpath and I didn't even have a bruise. When I was five a loose dog chased me at the park and I somehow ended up on top of a big statue there and there was no way I could have climbed it by myself." she said.

"But... these were just..." Nadia protested weakly, sinking back down onto the sofa beside her husband. "Lucky coincidences. There are logical explanations for all of them. The car, it mustn't have actually touched her, she surely just tripped and tumbled back onto the footpath... the statue, she must have, oh I don't know, had a burst of adrenaline and..."

"Oh, and then last year one of the girls in school wouldn't stop teasing me about my hair and then at lunch time she wouldn't come out of the toilets at all. Mrs Masters had to go in and then they took her to hospital because all her hair fell out, all at once!" Iris interrupted her mother. "The doctors couldn't find a logical explanation for that."

"Yep," Rueben Daku nodded knowingly, "These are definitely classic examples of accidental underage magic."

Dudley looked warily at Reuben, as though judging what he was about to say against his opinion of just how dangerous he could become if provoked.

"What if we don't allow her to go? What if we don't want her to become a witch?" he asked. Iris began to protest but he shushed her with a raised hand. "What happens then, Mr Wizard?"

"I'm afraid that Iris won't become a witch, she is a witch. She was born a witch and there is no way around that. A person doesn't choose to become a witch or a wizard, they just are. Or, they are not. I understand you want to keep her safe but truthfully, the safest place for her to be is at Nyambi in her formative years."

"Why?" demanded Nadia, clasping her husband's hand tightly, "Why is she safer there than in her normal school with her friends and teachers she's grown up with?"

Taj could be heard giggling and squealing in the background. It was a mark of just how concerned his parents were that they paid no attention whatsoever to the bangs and crashing in the other parts of the house.

"A young witch or wizard's magic can burst out of them at times of stress or trouble. They can't control it. and the older they get, the stronger it gets. If Iris isn't taught to wield magic, it will wield her and believe me, that would be very bad. I didn't come here to scare you fullas, but you need to understand that an untrained witch or wizard can be dangerous to themselves and everyone around them. When the time comes, young Taj will also need to learn that control."

"No! Taj too?" Dudley gasped. "Are you telling me that both of them are magic?"

"Yes." Reuben responded simply. He reached for the glass that had Isla had set before him on the coffee table and picked it up from the carpet where it had fallen when he'd transfigured it, giving the Dursley family a moment to absorb this information. With his wand tucked under his arm, he waved a finger in a complicated motion and the spilled water vanished from the carpet as though it had never been there at all. Iris goggled at him.

"No. No, no no!" Dudley stood up. "This is not happening! This can't be happening!" he began to pace. "You have no idea, what my family went through when I was a kid..."

"What your family went through?" Rueben squared his shoulders, carefully tightening his grip on his wand.

"We had to leave our home. We had to pack up and leave because of that bad one, Lord Whatshisname." Dudley shot back. "We had to go into hiding for a year! It took a huge toll on my father, he was never the same. I swear the stress contributed to the heart attack. Mum has been so different and defeated since losing Dad. We keep asking her to move here with us, to get away from it all but she won't leave their house again." the words spilled out of Dudley.

"You have no idea. It was terrifying, that year. Dad couldn't go to work, I couldn't finish school. None of us could even tell our family or friends where we were. We were so isolated in this strange house with this crazy old man and his talking mirrors and horrible little creatures scuttling around the gardens. There wasn't a lot of news and most of it was bad. There was a werewolf, a werewolf for goodness sake! It smashed through the back door and tore up half the house trying to get at us! And the dementy-things..." Dudley shuddered. Nadia's face was white and Iris just looked from one of her parents to the other.

"I've seen Harry since, you know." Dudley continued, "I saw him and his wife visited a couple of times, before we left the UK. I'm glad he's happy but magic is so dangerous! Who knows what other crazy terrorists you people have in your world. You want me to expose my little girl to that? My son?"

"Your world has terrorists too." Rueben answered carefully. "This city has seen murders, and muggings, burglaries and so on. It is not so different. Your kids are a part of this world, they have been since they were born. Don't you think they would be safer if they can be taught to defend themselves? To control the power they have inside?"

Dudley closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Rueben waited, giving him the chance to consider his words.

"Where is this school? I would like to see it before I can consider sending my daughter there." Dudley said firmly.

"Oh it's a long way from here, and it's strongly warded. Part of the protections of the school means that unless your kids are formally attending, you will not be able to find it or enter the grounds. We take security very seriously." Reuben replied. "The school is a boarding school. The kids are required to stay on site and come home during the holidays."

"Wow." Iris breathed. She struggled with a mouth full of questions, unable to decide what to ask first. "What kinds of stuff will I learn?" she blurted out.

"So many things. Transfiguration, Potion brewing, wand control, defensive magic, flying..."

"Flying!" Iris interrupted, eyes alight.

"Now see here," Dudley began, "You're expecting me to just send my child off to a random bunch of strangers, to a school nobody has ever heard of in a place I can't get to just like that?"

"No, not just like that.” Rueben soothed, “We have an orientation day soon, in town at a wizarding location that you can access with me escorting you. There you will be able to meet some of the staff, ask questions and find out more about the school. There is also the option to hire a home tutor if you prefer to school your children here.".

The Durlsey's considered this. Clearly the idea of having Iris and Taj remain at home for their schooling was a much more appealing to them. Dudley was pale, worried.

"Dad," Iris began. "I want to go. I want to go to the school, not stay here with a tutor. I want to make friends with other kids like me."

Dudley looked at his daughter, taking in her pleading expression. Nadia looked troubled and conflicted.

As he so often did with his visits to the children of non magical folk to deliver their acceptance letters and bring awareness of the magical world for the first time, Reuben felt a pang of sympathy for the parents. Even now, knowing some of Dudley's history of how he and his parents had treated his famous cousin as a child, he felt for them. This was never easy news to believe let alone come to terms with for non magical parents.

"We will think about it." Dudley replied gruffly, glancing at the letter again. "When is the orientation?"

"Orientation is on January 14th and the school term begins on the 3^rd of February. Students catch the bus to school on the 2^nd of Feb to give them time to settle in before classes start the following morning." Rueben responded promptly.

"I expect to see you in London Court at 9am on the 14^th for Orientation, and I'll show you through to Rocky Road, which you'll only be able to find with my guidance. You and the other muggo families..."

"Muggo?" Iris asked, unable to stop herself asking the question.

"Non magic people." Rueben informed her. “Some people say Muggle like they do in the UK but most just say Muggo. You and the other muggo families will be escorted through to the Muggle Relations Office for the orientation. The details are at the bottom of your letter."

There was a sudden squeal of laughter from Taj as he scrambled after the wombat which was trotting back into the living room, grunting in irritation. Reuben flicked his wand once again and suddenly the creature had turned back into their coffee table. Another flick and the wombat poo vanished from the carpet. The Dursley's stared, eyes boggling. Nadia gingerly prodded the coffee table with a foot. It didn't move.

"I will leave you with your letter," Rueben leapt to his feet with a grin. "I still have a couple more families to visit today. I will see you all on January the 14th!" he gave a sweeping bow, jammed his hat back on his head and then... Iris still wasn't sure she had seen what she thought she saw. Rueben Daku had spun on the spot and vanished with a loud pop.

There was an amazed silence for a long moment.

"Iris, take your brother to the playroom please." Nadia Dursley told her daughter with steel in her voice. "Your father and I need to talk." Dudley shrank back in the sofa at her tone. Iris didn't stop to argue, she grabbed her brother's hand and the pair of them scurried down the hall to their playroom. Iris shut the door carefully, leaving it open just a crack and the two children crouched, ears to the gap to listen intently.

The hissed and low-voiced argument went on for some time. From what Iris could tell, it seemed her mother was furious that her father had never told her that the Potter family – their cousins - were wizards, never told her about that world.

"Fine!" Her mother's voice raised a little and broke Iris out of her reverie. "Fine. Let’s go to this Orientation and see what they say. If the kids have to be taught magic for their own safety, they'll have to be taught. But I am not sending my daughter off to some random school with a bunch of strangers where who knows what could happen to her! We need to meet the teachers at the very least before making any decisions."

Iris grinned in delight. She was going to be taught to do real life magic!

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Rocky Road

Iris was awake at the crack of dawn on January 14th. Excitement swirled through her from the moment she opened her eyes and she knew there was no way she would get back to sleep again. She reached over the well-read acceptance letter on her night stand and cast her eyes over it for the forty-third time.

NYAMBI SCHOOL OF ENCHANTMENT

Headmistress: Esmerelda Brocklehurst
(Order of Merlin; First Class, Order of Merlin; Second Class, Star of Bloomsfield 1982, Supreme Augur of the Aus. Wizarding Justice Commission 1986 - 1999)

Dear Ms Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to Nyambi School of Enchantment.

Please find attached your book and equipment list, and the important dates for the school.

Orientation for Muggleborns will be at 9am on January 17^th. Please assemble at London Court in Perth, at 9am promptly.

Yours Sincerely,

Rueben Daku
Deputy Headmaster

Iris then turned to the second sheet of parchment that had been in her letter. This was her booklist, and to Iris' mind a great deal more interesting to read.

NYAMBI SCHOOL OF ENCHANTMENT
YEAR 7 REQUIREMENTS

Uniform:
Year 7 students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robe (Navy)
2. One plain broad brimmed hat (Navy) for day wear - please note, students will not be allowed out of doors during the summer months without a hat
3. One pair of protective gloves (Saltie Croc-hide or Dragon hide)
4. One winter cloak (Navy, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothing should carry name tags
Students are encouraged to bring several sets of casual clothing for after school hours and weekends.

Set Books
All students are required to have a copy of the following:
- The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1); by Miranda Goshawk
- The Magical History of Australia Part 1; by Waru Jiemba
- Theory of Magic; by Sinead O'Hara
- Elementary Transfiguration; by Minerva McGonagall
- Properties Of Magical Plants; by Nigel Band
- Brewing for Novices; by Jacinta Finch-Fletchley
- Harper's Guide to Astronomy; by Peter Harper
- An Early Guide to Defensive Magic; by Celine Taylor

Other Equipment
1 Wand
1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 12)
1 Set of glass or crystal Potion vials
1 70mm Telescope
1 set of scales
5 standard quills
3 A4 notebooks
1 200 page sheaf of blank A4 parchment
2 bottles of black ink
1 bottle of red ink
1 set of coloured pencils

Students may also bring an owl, OR a magpie, OR a popglider OR a reptile (grade 1 or 2 species only)

GUARDIANS ARE REMINDED THAT YEAR 7's MAY NOT HAVE THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS AT SCHOOL

Iris wondered yet again what it meant about Year 7’s not being allowed broomsticks. Was there some kind of chore rotation or something? Would the students be expected to use school cleaning gear? But then, Mr Daku had mentioned flying. And what did witches fly on in all the stories?

Finally, Iris turned to the third and final sheet contained a list of dates, several of which had Iris nearly wild with curiosity. It all sounded so exciting, certainly a great deal more interesting than what she had grown accustomed to at her old school.

Important Dates:

Please note, students are expected to travel on the Nyambi School Bus to and from the school at the start and end of each term. This allows the fostering of friendships, school unity and the opportunity for students to transition between school term and the holiday period.

A thick, tight ball of sheer excitement twisted and swirled inside Iris' belly. She had to struggle hard not to leap out of bed and dance around the house singing at the top of her voice. Today, she would meet some of her teachers. Today she would meet some of her classmates, Muggleborns like her. She would get her equipment and she would get a real magic wand!

Unable to settle, Iris got up, dressed herself carefully paying special attention to the impression she wanted to give. You only get one chance to make a good impression, Iris' mother had always told her. Her mop of thick curls was standing around her head in a dreadful tangle as though she was touching a static globe. Frowning at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Iris set to taming her unruly mop.

After some time and a good deal of frustration, hair products and fussing Iris finally had her hair falling around her shoulders in some semblance of normalcy. She opted for a simple Alice band and made her way back to her room. She made her bed, then sat on it, fidgeting terribly. The sun made its slow crawl over the horizon and magpies sang in the new day outside her window.

Eventually her parents got up and her mother began making breakfast. Iris skipped out to the kitchen to join them but couldn't keep still.

"Oh for goodness sake Iris, stop bouncing around like a blowfly in a bottle and set the table." her mother eventually said exasperated. Taj was up by then, so Iris set the table, and they all ate together.

Iris was not above noticing how quiet her father was, though. Usually he liked to read the newspaper, making comments and reading parts out to them as he did each morning. Today, he hadn't even unfurled the paper and ate rather mechanically, eyes fixed on the wall opposite and his mind far, far away.

Nadia glanced at her husband trying not to show too much concern. Taj hadn't noticed anything amiss and was chattering excitedly about their upcoming visit to Rocky Road, asking questions and answering himself. Nobody else needed to say anything.

Iris kept half an eye on her father all morning. He had already changed his mind about Iris going to school, and even going to the orientation half a dozen times. Iris was trying very hard not to be too frustrated with his inability to make a decision, often biting her tongue so as not to burst out in irritation that it was her life and she wanted to go more than anything. She couldn't really understand what was upsetting him so much. The story about the werewolf was a bit scary but that was a long time ago. It was also in a whole other country. It wasn't here and it wasn't now.

Finally, finally it was time to go, the Dursley family got into their car and Iris fidgeted in her seat, unable to keep still throughout the whole journey. Dudley found parking, and the four of them walked up to London Court. Iris had been here before, shopping with her mother. The old-fashioned building was clean and white, the large clock showing it was 8:55am as Dudley stopped dead, starting at it.

"I don't think this is a good idea." he stated.

"Dad!" Iris wailed. They were so close! "Dad we're here now, please lets just go. I want to meet other people like me. Please Dad." she begged. Taj started begging too, he wanted to see more wizards and more magic. The adults both hushed the children, eyeing passers-by warily.

Dudley stood for a long minute, struggling with the reality of his situation. Knowing he ought to go forward and do the orientation but hating the need, hating that his sweet little girl was going to face, in his mind at least, so much danger and he would not be able to protect or help her.

Eventually, Dudley heaved a big sigh and set his shoulders, and marched into London Court. The family walked through the archway under the big clock. A pedestrian street, London Court was too narrow for cars but afforded a pleasant, cobbled walk for pedestrians. Awnings over perfectly normal shop fronts provided a little shade, and quite a few shoppers were wandering contentedly up the street already. Iris was looking for any indication of magic but saw none. There was a shoe shop, clothing shops, a book shop and a jewellery store.

"Well, where are we supposed to go?" Nadia asked, glancing up and down the street. The whole family stopped and looked around.

"Wait, I see Mr Daku!" Iris said suddenly, pointing a little further up the street.

"Where?" Dudley asked, shading his eyes, "I don't see him."

"Just there. Come on!" Taj yelled suddenly, spotting the Deputy Head. Grabbing his father's hand, he dragged him up the street a little way to where Reuben Daku, dusty hat and electric blue streaked beard stood, bouncing happily on the balls of his feet surrounded by a group of people. He smiled and waved them over as they approached the group.

Iris beamed at a young girl nearby who returned a shy smile. There must have been at least thirty or so other kids, not counting Iris and her brother, and their families as well.

"Just waiting on two more..." Reuben said cheerily, looking up and down the street. "Ah! Here we go." as two more families approached, looking ucertaim. Reuben Daku drew his wand serrupticiously, waved it in a complicated gesture, muttering under his breath. Iris felt something like the faintest of cool breezes fan out from him. Magic, she realised with a shiver of delight.

"OK everyone, come along now! You must keep close together as you won't be able to get through the doorway to Rocky Road unless you're with me." he spoke up over the group. The other shoppers didn't pay any attention to the group and continued strolling past as though they were invisible. Maybe that was what the spell was for, Iris guessed. Reuben spun on his heel and marched briskly up the street a short way, then turned to a service door that had a large Warning sign on it. He tapped the doorknob twice with his wand and then opened it.

"In there?" Nadia asked, aghast, "It's just a dark little room filled with electrical stuff." Iris frowned, confused - she saw a bright, sunny street through the doorway with people moving back and forth and a glimpse of many coloured shopfronts. She glanced at both parents who seemed worried.

"It's OK Mum, they heard a boy ahead of them say, "There's another street through there."

Reuben Daku winked at the assembled group and stepped through the doorway. Some of the parents gasped. Before any of them could turn away, the boy who had spoken took a firm grip of his father's hand and forcibly dragged him through the doorway. There were more gasps from the parents and one or two of the older siblings but all the children Iris' own age grinned and moved forward.

It seemed that only those with magical abilities could see what was beyond the door, the muggos could only see the dark little room with the electrical board. Following their children apprehensively, Dudley and Nadia squeezed through the doorway and then as they emerged into Rocky Road, their mouths dropped open.

The group were standing in another narrow street, with the summer sun beating down on them. The street was packed with people, the sounds of happy chatter were all up and down the street. The awnings over these shops were brightly coloured and in some cases, quite garish. Right in front of them, opposite the door back out to London Court was a florist, with windows ablaze with colour, light and dancing sparks. Some of the flowers on display outside were moving of their own accord and turned to face them.

Wizards and witches in a rainbow of coloured robes walked by, some smiling kindly at the group of newcomers, some rushing by intent on their errands and some paying them no heed whatsoever. Hanging signs indicated shop names (Fortescue's Flowers, Edgar's Book Emporium and Twill's Tailormade Robes were the ones Iris could see close by). A shadow passed overhead and looking up, Iris could see somebody on an actual old-fashioned broom flying over their heads, level with the third story windows. Taj goggled, and he wasn't the only one. There was just so much to see!

"This way!" Reuben Daku strode off and the group hurried along to keep pace with him, moving aside to allow oddly dressed people to pass them. Iris turned her head this way and that, trying to see everything at once.

A man walked past them heading in the opposite direction with what looked like a miniature dragon on a leash, twin spirals of smoke drifting up from its nostrils. Another man rushing past them impatiently, was carrying a fairly large, dark wooden box under one arm. Yet another was coming out of a shop as they passed, squinting at a small jar of some strange looking liquid sloshing about inside it. A group of gaily dressed witched with long pointy hats and wide brims waved cheerily as they passed their table outside a cafe and everywhere there were families, with children in tow, glancing at lists or calling to hurry one-another up.

The group turned suddenly, and filed into a bright yellow doorway that had the number 45 above it and as Iris and her family followed the others in, she noticed a brass plaque on the door stating "Muggo Relations Office." They walked down a deceptively wide, cool hall lined with pictures she didn't have time to look at but at one point she was sure she caught one moving out of the corner of her eye. The hall opened into a small reception area and waiting room. Without stopping, Reuben nodded to the bored looking brunette witch behind the reception desk and then pushed through the double doors opposite, revealing a large room.

The group of parents and children gathered just inside the doors where Reuben had stopped, looking around in amazement. The room was huge, more of a hall really. Iris couldn't work out how such a massive space fit into the seemingly small building judging by its outside appearance. The room was carpeted and there were many windows high up allowing light to flood the space. The ceiling was at least 3 stories above them and other people were here already. There were tables here and there, and a few small groups of comfortable looking armchairs grouped around them. Potted plants and a few large and beautiful paintings added to the feeling of comfort and welcome to the room.

"Alright everyone, please allow me to introduce some of my colleagues at Nyambi." Reuben announced, moving a hand to indicate a small group of witches and wizards standing smilingly to his left. "Julian Giovanni; the Defensive Magic teacher, Betty Kitur; the Herbology teacher, Quentin Leuff; the Transfiguration teacher and Esmerelda Brocklehurst; our Headmistress." each nodded or waved when their name was announced.

"We invite you to introduce yourselves, ask any questions you may have and take some time to read some of the information material we have provided for you." Reuben indicated a large table to their right, laden with leaflets and brochures.

"I would also like to introduce the tutors that are available for private tutoring should you prefer to homeschool your children. Here we have Gaspode Trent, Milly Lowry, Xarissa Helmcleaver, Dafydd Jones, Rachna Eldeiss, Harold Flynn, Raith Yates and Florence Bubble." Reuben indicated a group of people standing further toward the back of the room, each standing by a small table with various papers and books on them.

"We have an hour or two here, if there is anything we can help you with please just let us know." Mr Daku finished before moving over to join the other Nyambi teachers, greeting them cheerfully.

At first, the slightly startled group of parents just peered around, murmured among themselves and shuffling hesitantly. But after a few minutes, they began to disperse. The Dursley family hung back, Dudley being the most hesitant. Iris glanced at him uneasily, worried her father may have changed his mind yet again and would refuse to talk to anyone. To her relief, he walked to the table of leaflets and information first and began looking through some of the information there.

"Goodness, they have a chess club." Nadia murmured, picking up a leaflet with a picture of part of a chessboard on it. "That's so normal." Dudley was skimming through one about flying lessons and Taj grabbed one with the picture of a dragon on the front. Two other families joined them, pawing through the information available and smiling politely when they met the Dursley's eyes.

Eventually, Iris' parents felt comfortable enough to move off and begin talking to people. Iris and Vinny drifted away from their parents and struck up conversations with some of the other potential students and their siblings.

"Hey, I'm Arin. Arin Rothschild" a smiling youth with short dark hair and large brown eyes stuck out a hand. Iris and Taj shook hands, giving their names in return.

"My name is Rosalie Smith." a girl with a load of freckles and deeply tanned skin introduced herself. "How crazy is this?" she asked. "Did you guys know anything about being magic?"

"No, we found out when Mr Daku came to visit last week." Iris replied.

"Me too!" Rosalie said, excited.

"I knew, my Mum's a witch." Arin told them, "Dad is a muggo so we came to orientation for his sake more than anything else. Mum wasn't sure I even was magical for a long time."

Chattering excitedly, Iris was thrilled to meet some of her new classmates. They all seemed very friendly and just as excited about learning magic as she was. Even so, she kept half an eye on her parents as they moved around the room chatting to the teachers and then to the one halfway normal looking tutor. She could tell her parents were avoiding talking to the tutor with the bald head and shiny metallic tattoos, the tutor who had a tail flicking out from under her cloak and the enormous man in the corner who had to kneel to be close to everyone else's heights.

The one thing Iris did notice, was that there seemed to be a handful of students from other countries present. After she'd met Katut, a small cheerful boy from Indonesia, she began to read some of the leaflets she had picked up from the information table. It seemed that Nyambi was the only one of two magical schools in the southern hemisphere (the other was in the Amazon in South America) and often attracted students from other countries including New Zealand, Indonesia and Mauritius.

Finally, Dudley and Nadia came back to find their children. Iris stood waiting with baited breath, her fingers crossed behind her back as she waited for their decision. Her parents glanced at one another and then turned back to her.

"OK, you can go." Dudley muttered gruffly, "But if we get one hint, one whiff of you being in danger we will bring you straight home."

Iris squealed and jumped up and down on the spot. A few heads turned their way and she settled down, grinning widely. She threw her arms around her Dad, hugging him for all she was worth.

"Thank you Daddy!"

"Well, while we're here we may as well get all your books and things." Nadia said, glancing about. "Let's get on,

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 – A Magic Wand

At that moment they were approached by a dark-haired couple, the father wearing glasses, who introduced themselves as Arin's parents, Peter and Jenny Rothschild.

"We need to go to the bank to withdraw some money," Jenny told them. "Would you like to join us as you get your muggo money exchanged?"

Dudley and Nadia exchanged a brief glance.

"The money is different?" Dudley asked.

"Oh yes," Peter replied cheerfully, "It's mad. The wizarding world is rather old fashioned, uses coins for everything still. Golden serpents, silver tiddaliks and bronze hoops. 10 tiddaliks in a serpent, 20 hoops in a tiddalik. Completely ridiculous." he chuckled. His wife smiled fondly at him before turning back to the Dursleys.

"We'd be happy to help you, sometimes the first visit to the bank can be quite daunting." Jenny offered. Agreeing tentatively, the Dursley family left the Muggle Relations Office with the Rothschilds. Iris secretly thought that the fact all the Rothschilds looked and were dressed like perfectly normal muggos had a lot to do with it. Iris was grateful to them, anything that encouraged her parents to believe the wizarding world was OK was a good thing as far as she was concerned.

Taj and Iris fell back slightly to walk with Arin.

"So your parents didn't know if you were magical?" Iris asked, "Neither did ours."

"Yeah, I didn't show any magic at all until last year." Arin explained. "Mum thought I might be a muggo like Dad."

"What magic did you do?" Taj asked, all eager curiosity. Arin hesitated a moment, let out a deep breath and then answered.

"I made three boys break out in a rash of painful boils." Arin answered, eyes dark for a moment. "They were hurting a cat and I tried to stop them. They laughed at me and hurt it some more and it just made me so angry."

"Woah." Iris breathed. "Well good for you! Serves them right." she added. "I would have tried to do the same."

"Did you get into trouble?" Taj asked.

"No. It was accidental underage magic after all." Arin shrugged, a half-smile on their face. "The Ministry had to send some Obliviators out to cure the boils and wipe the boys' memories so they wouldn't know what happened. One of them had to be taken to the wizard hospital because his boils kept coming back for a week. Some of them were in a really uncomfortable spot." The three of them laughed.

“What happened to the cat?” Taj wanted to know. He loved animals.

“The Obliviators fixed up any bruises or sore spots, and one of them took it away. I guess to find the owners." Arin replied, then asked; “What accidental magic did you do?"

Iris and Taj regaled Arin with stories of bullies losing their hair, bouncing off cars and the memorable time that Taj accidentally set fire to the Christmas Tree despite being clear across the other side of the room when their Dad jumped out at him unexpectedly whilst wearing a clown mask.

Iris and Taj had lots of questions about Arin's life, which was spent half in the wizarding world and half out of it. Arin answered them happily. They didn't have too much time to chat, however as before long they arrived at the front doors of the bank.

"Gringotts." Dudley said, as a distant memory stirred in his mind. "Isn't that the same as the one in London?"

"Yes," Jenny answered, "This is the Australian branch. Run by goblins."

"Goblins?" Nadia stopped dead, shocked.

"Yes, but it’s perfectly safe. Just be polite and there will be no problems." Jenny assured her. With a few more reassuring words, Jenny and Peter coaxed the Dursleys up the steps and through the big bronze doors into the bank. This led to an entrance and a pair of magnificent and ornate silver doors. Iris paused just a moment to quickly read the words inscribed on them;

Enter, stranger but take heed,
Of what awaits the sin of greed.
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors,
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware,
Of finding more than treasure there.

Iris hastily followed the others, deciding that goblins must be a people not to mess with. This supposition was further borne out when Iris actually saw the goblins. They were smaller in stature to humans, but stocky and swarthy. Long fingers, pointed ears and distinctively stern expressions. The three children hurried to walk closer to the adults.

The main hall of the bank was enormous. Marble floors, tall white walls and four stories up, a magnificent white ceiling from which several chandeliers were hung. Here and there were large potted plants, lush red carpets and gleaming mahogany counters wrapped around the edges of the hall.

They approached the first available counter, the Dursley's hanging back to wait their turn whilst Jenny explained they wished to withdraw some money from their vault. The goblin asked coolly for their key and Jenny produced a small golden key which the goblin took from her and examined briefly. After a few moments, the goblin called one of his colleagues and the second goblin escorted Jenny and Arin through a door off to the side of the huge main hall. Peter remained behind with the Dursleys.

"I hate those cart rides to the vaults." he explained, stepping forward to the counter with Nadia and Dudley. "Just let them know you need to exchange for Nyambi." he nodded toward the waiting goblin. Dudley's face was reddening and his wife hung back a little, her face growing pale as the goblin looked them up and down. Iris read the goblin’s nametag. ‘Korduc’.

"Er..." Dudley began. "We need, er, money. Exchanged. My daughter is going to the wizard school." he managed to get out. The corner of the goblin's mouth lifted slightly as he recognised the discomfort he was causing the Dursleys.

"Certainly. Please wait here, I will fetch what you need." Korduc turned and scuttled off to a back room out of the hall.

The money exchange went relatively smoothly much to everyone's relief, and Peter suggested they open a family vault to store some wizarding money in, just in case it was needed throughout the year for any reason. This too was a quick process involving a form, a drop of blood from each parent to drip onto a key (which vanished as though the little metal key absorbed it) and a nasty grin from Korduc.

Before long the Dursleys were hurrying out of the bank with their wizarding money in leather pouches. The Rothschilds came sauntering out behind them with their own jingling pouches.

"Alright, uniforms first eh?" Jenny smiled at Nadia and Dudley who were still sucking their pricked fingers, nodding her head to indicate further along the street. The group moved off, Peter and Jenny working to engage the Dursleys in amiable conversation.

They found Ulric's Wizarding Uniforms without any trouble, and stepped inside. Another two families were already waiting, chatting among themselves. They glanced up and smiled when the Dursley's entered, a couple of the adults nodding in recognition to Jenny, whom they seemed to know.

A tiny little wizard, clearly a middle-aged man but barely reaching Iris' shoulder in height scuttled out from behind the screens separating the customer waiting area to the fitting and changing rooms out the back. He was carrying some folded uniforms to a counter and was followed by a tall, slender girl around Iris' age. A moment later, another store worker followed them with more folded robes and two other students trailed behind her, one much older than Iris but clearly still in school and a younger boy who must have been her brother.

"Be with you in a moment." the tiny wizard nodded briefly to the new arrivals, Iris supposed this must be Ulric, the shop owner. Ulric stepped up onto a stool behind the counter and placed the folded uniforms onto a large sheet of plain brown paper. With a flick of his wand, the paper wrapped itself neatly around the stack of fabric. Taj and Iris watched, fascinated and excited by this little display of magical skill.

"Three new sets of Nyambi robes." the tiny wizard announced, "Two without house trim and one set with Uluru trim." The parents of all three students broke off their conversation and approached the counter to pay. After a short exchange, they all left the shop together. Dudley had rather a “'roo in the headlights” look about him as the tiny wizard turned his tired gaze on the newcomers.

"Nyambi too?" he asked.

"Yep," Jenny replied cheerfully, urging Iris and Arin forward. "Year 7's so no house trim please." Iris and Arin followed the tiny wizard behind the screens as Taj began to complain that he wasn't able to get new robes too. Ulric had them step up onto low stools. He and the cheerful young witch who worked with him set to work measuring them for their new robes, having them try on a set and then pinning them up to the right length.

Iris was amazed, the process was so fast! She had half expected they'd need to be measured and place an order which would need to be picked up at a later date. She was surprised then, when with just a few deft wand flicks and some spells muttered under their breaths, Ulric and his assistant had the first set of robes complete in mere minutes. Another few quick spells later and the other robes, cloaks, plain navy ties and undershirts were all floating in the air, stitching themselves together.

Before long, they were both ushered back out into the front of the shop, followed by Ulric and his assistant. Another flick of the wand and their purchases were also magically wrapped and ready to go. Bemused, Dudley paid for Iris' robes and handing them to her to carry, they left the shop. Taj immediately spotted a group of boys and one girl standing clustered around the display window of a shop opposite, exclaiming in loud excitement and unable to contain himself, dashed over to see what all the fuss was about.

"Taj!" Nadia called him, exasperated, "We've still got a lot to do. Come back!" Taj ignored her, and as the crowd of other kids parted and moved on down the street, they saw what had drawn his attention. A polished and very streamlined-looking broomstick hung in the window of the shop, floating by itself. A sign on the window read; "Just in! Quicksilver MkII!"

"Come on, kiddo." Jenny called to him, "Plenty of time to see that later." she turned to the Dursleys as Taj reluctantly dragged himself away from the shiny broomstick, "Don't be surprised if he tries out for the Quidditch team when he goes to Nyambi, a lot of the kids do. It's a good sport for the kids to get into."

Peter snorted and rolled his eyes at her.

"A good sport." he scoffed, "Just a good sport? Says she who played for Australia." he grinned, teasing his wife, "Won the World Cup three years running if I'm not mistaken?" Jenny waved him away laughing. This exchange had Taj asking what Quidditch was, and could the broomstick really fly like the one they saw above the street earlier that morning.

The day was growing hotter so Peter offered to take Dudley and Taj to the ice-cream parlour in the square round the corner from Gringotts and give him the lowdown on Quidditch whilst Jenny continued to help Nadia and Iris navigate Rocky Road for the remainder of their purchases. Iris could tell that her father was reluctant to split the family, but Taj was now begging for ice-cream so he agreed. He kissed his wife's cheek and squeezed Iris' shoulder gently.

"See you soon." he said before following Peter down the street, soon lost to sight, weaving among the crowd.

The shopping trip went much too fast. Although they had a lot to purchase, it seemed time had sped up to triple the pace, every shopping incursion was finished long before Iris wanted it to. She was having far too much fun, and trying to see everything she could all at once. The people in the street, the shops and their displays, interesting and odd smells coming from the apothecary, the sounds of unusual animals from the magical beasts shop, the eye-watering clash of colours and packed windows of the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes joke shop (one of a popular chain of such stores around the world, Arin told her), the fascinating characters they met.

Before she knew it, they had bought everything she would need for her new school year at Nyambi. All except for her magic wand. This is what Iris had been looking forward to the most, a magic wand of her very own. They found the wand shop without any trouble, tucked in between a wizarding jewellery store and a shop selling enchanted home-wear and haberdashery. 'Rosier Wands' read the sign over the door.

The entered the bright, tidy shop to find they were the only people in there. The shelves behind the counter were jam-packed with small, slender boxes that were stacked with pinpoint precision from floor to ceiling, the boxes carefully colour-coded. There wasn't a speck of dust to be found and even the windows were spotless and gleaming.

"Hello, Madam Rosier." Jenny greeted the old severe looking witch behind the counter.

"Oh. Young Jennifer Adams isn't it?" the witch replied at once, her sharp eyes recognising Jenny at once. Iris thought she had a faint trace of an accent. "Whitegum wand, yes? 11 and a half inches, Bunyip hair core?" Jenny smiled and nodded. "Yes. Jennifer Rothschild now, I'm married. This, " she said, placing a hand proudly on Arin's shoulder, "Is my child Arin."

"Ah, off to Nyambi?" Madam Rosier came out from behind the counter, steel grey eyes on Arin. "Halfblood? No wizarding Rothschild's that I know of."

"That isn't relevant." Jenny replied, coolly.

The witch looked both children up and down, ignoring Jenny.

"And you're muggle-born I daresay." she said to Iris in a resigned tone of voice. Iris and Arin exchanged glances.

Iris noticed the wandmaker was as neat as her shop. Iron grey hair parted severely down the middle, wrapped into a bun without a single wisp out of place. Her slender framed golden spectacles hung on a fine gold chain around her neck and her inky black robes were clean and well pressed.

"I have been a wandmaker for fifty years," she announced, "I remember every wand I've ever made and you won't find better than a Rosier wand. Best wands in the southern hemisphere." she told them matter-of-factly. "The Europeans do love their Ollivander and Gregorovitch wands. Well, now Gregorovitch is dead their quality has gone to the kneazles. " she said sniffily,

"But I trained under Gerbold Ollivander himself, and I daresay Garrick detests having me as his competition. He was so relieved when I left the shop after finishing my apprenticeship and came down here to work for my predecessor.”

With a snap of her fingers, a measuring tape flew across the room into her hand and she began measuring Arin's arm, firing questions at the pair of them as she did.

"Wand arm?" she demanded.

"Er, I'm right handed..." Arin replied, uncertain.

"And you?" she glared at Iris.

"Left handed." she replied hastily.

"Dates of birth? Moon phase on your first birthday? Are you a maker or a mender?" the witch listened to their answers but fired her next question almost before they finished speaking. Arin's measuring had been completed, now Iris found the measuring tape measuring the circumference of her head all by itself.

"Enough." the witch said, and the measuring tape fluttered to the floor. Madam Rosier marched back around her counter and over to the floor-to-ceiling shelving at the back. She seemed to know exactly which ones she was looking for, selecting several slender boxes from different shelves until she returned with an armful.

"The halfblood first." she said expertly flipping the lid off one box and grasping the wand, holding it out to Arin, "Here, child. Try this one."

Arin had barely grasped the handle Madam Rosier murmured “Non.” to herself and whisked it out of their hand, and thrust another toward them. This time Arin managed a half-wave before that one, too was snatched from their grasp. This continued for several more wands as Madam Rosier muttered in French to herself each time she swapped a wand over.

The eighth wand however, she allowed Arin to really wave and as the tip of the wand swept through the air, a stream of brightly coloured bubbles erupted from it, dancing softly through the room.

"Oh, wonderful!" Jenny clapped her hands once in delight and Arin's face lit up with joy.

"Yes, that's the one. The wand chooses the witch or wizard." Madam Rosier nodded in affirmation. "This is Rosegum with a phoenix feather core. Lightly flexible, adaptable and excellent for charm work. Congratulations." she took Arin's wand and wrapped it easily and deftly with her wand, handing it back before turning to Iris.

"Now, you." she said, opening a new box and handing Iris a wand. Similarly to Arin, the wand was twitched out of her hand almost immediately and replaced with another, then another and then yet another. Two or three she managed to actually wave but nothing happened. Undaunted, Madam Rosier went back to her shelves and selected another half dozen before returning them to the counter.

Iris was beginning to lose hope, and her heart plummeted when Arin and Jenny exchanged a worried look after the thirteenth wand was removed from her grasp and another shoved into her hand. Was something wrong? Was she not magical enough to attend Nyambi after all?

Something was different this time, though. Iris felt a warmth flood her fingers at once and her palm that was in contact with the polished handle tingled. She waved the wand and tongues of blue and white flame flared briefly where the tip swished through the air. Iris almost dropped the wand in surprise. Madam Rosier also looked startled. The old witch gazed into Iris's face with more intensity for a moment, really paying attention to her for the first time.

"That's the wand for you." she said, "The wand chooses the witch or wizard and this one has chosen you, oh my word yes." she took the wand back to wrap it. "This is one of my experimental wands," she told them, "Thirteen inches, jarrah which is a very hard wood, very rigid and inflexible. Strong though, unbreakable. With a dragon-tongue core. Dragon-tongue has never been used before in wandmaking, usually it’s a heartstring from a dragon. This tongue in particular came from a Catalonian Fireball, they say it was the last of its kind. This will be a strong wand, good for duelling I'd say."

"And to a muggleborn." Iris heard the old woman drop her voice to mutter disgustedly under her breath. Iris felt heat flush her face. She decided she certainly did not like Madam Rosier all. She also didn't like the way she said "Muggleborn" as though it were a dirty word. She decided she'd be glad when they could leave.

"Experimental?" Nadia asked, "Are you sure it's safe?" she looked worried.

"Oh yes, the wand has chosen her." Madam Rosier said, matter-of-factly. "No harm will ever come to her by using that wand I assure you. Could be a different story for anyone else who tries to cast with it, mind." she warned. The two adults hurried to pay for the wands, exchanging very few words with the horrid old wandmaker.

As they turned to leave, a severe looking woman dressed all in black with dark hair was entering the shop followed by an older woman, perhaps her own mother and a young girl who was clearly coming to buy her first wand as well. The dark-haired witch barely spared a glance in Jenny's direction and the young girl raised an eyebrow when Iris offered her a friendly smile. She did not smile in return.

"Ah, Valerie." the older witch of the three trilled warmly, sweeping toward Madam Rosier, completely ignoring Iris and the others. She clasped Madam Rosier's hands like an old friend might, bestowing a light kiss on each cheek.

"Beatrice." Madam Rosier greeted the newcomer warmly, smiling for the first time since Iris had met her as she greeted her newest customers. "Is young Kendra of an age to get her first wand already?"

"She is," the younger woman replied, "Mama insisted we come to you, of course."

"Gretel," Madam Rosier repeated the cheek-kissing greeting. "So lovely to see you."

The young witch, Kendra, glared at Arin and Iris with distinct disdain, her clear blue eyes taking in their muggo clothing pointedly. She turned her back on them without a word when Madam Rosier spoke to her and Jenny indicated with a jerk of her head they'd better leave. Iris was perfectly happy to follow the adults out of the shop, their departure completely unheeded by Madam Rosier who seemed a lot happier to serve the newcomers than she had been to serve them.

"What was that all about?" Nadia asked, clearly affronted as they made their way back up Rocky Road toward Gringotts and the square.

"Some wizarding families consider themselves superior to others." Jenny explained quickly, "They're what they call 'Pureblood'. They have only wizards and witches in their ancestry, they never marry muggos or halfbloods. Those... ladies... are old Beatrice Black, her daughter Gretal Gaunt and granddaughter Kendra. It's ridiculous really, it has absolutely nothing to do with how magical somebody is or isn't. Best steer clear of that type, they're not very pleasant."

"Pureblood or not, their manners need work." Nadia sniffed.

Before long, they had found Peter, Dudley (who was looking distinctly put-upon) and Taj who was carrying a birdcage very carefully that contained a small brown owl.

"Look, Mum!" Taj cried as soon as he saw her, "Dad got us a family owl! It carries the post!"

"Oh, good grief!" Nadia muttered under her breath, but Iris was sure she was the only one who heard it.

“We need to get going,” Jennifer told them. “It was lovely to meet you all.”

“Mum! Can Iris and Taj come with us to the museum on the weekend?” Arin suddenly asked their mother. “Please?”

“Great idea!” Peter said, “It would be a super way to give you some idea of the magical world. The museum has so many fantastic exhibitions and I’m sure you’d find it fascinating as well as educational.”

Dudley frowned at the unexpected invitation, not certain that this was something he was comfortable with.

“Of course! It sounds perfect. What time and where?” Nadia asked promptly before Dudley could turn their offer down. Arin bounced up and down in excitement as the parents’ discussed the details.

To Iris’ surprise, Jennifer exchanged mobile phone numbers with her parents.

“I thought electrical items didn’t work with magic?” Iris asked.

“Only in heavily magically saturated areas like Nyambi and Rocky Road.” Jennifer explained. “At home and out and about they work just fine.” She waved her iPhone in the air demonstratively.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 – Pandora’s Box

The blazing sun hung high in the cloudless, blue January sky as Iris, Taj and their parents climbed out of their car in an almost deserted carpark near the river. Fortunately, the Rothschilds were already there. Iris got the impression that her father was on the brink of driving them all straight home again, given his glaring look at the rusted old ruin they saw before them.

They all looked up at towering but dilapidated East Perth Power Station. Its towering frame, streaked with rust and soot, loomed over them. To most, especially the muggos driving along the busy highway close by, the station was a derelict eyesore—a forgotten relic of Australia’s industrial past.

Dudley exited the driver’s seat and looked warily at the looming structure. Nadia, ever composed, adjusted her sunglasses and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “It’s supposed to be a fascinating place, Dudley,” she said firmly. “And I, for one, am looking forward to learning more about Iris’—and Taj’s—world.”

Dudley grimaced but nodded, his protective instincts battling with a begrudging sense of duty. “Let’s just make sure we stay together,” he said gruffly, looking pointedly at Iris and Taj. “Is this really the place?” He continued, squinting suspiciously at the building. “Yes, Dad,” Iris said, trying not to sound exasperated. She glanced over at a grinning Arin, who had hurried over to stand beside her.

“Definitely the place,” Arin said confidently, their yellow shirt fluttering in the faint breeze.

“Dudley, it’s a museum, not a battlefield. Let’s just go inside.” Nadia said.

“It looks abandoned,” Dudley grumbled, following his family reluctantly.

“It’s enchanted to look that way,” Jennifer explained. She waved her wand, casting a quick cooling charm over herself and her husband. She indicated with her wand, offering the same for the Dursley’s but Dudley shook his head.

As they reached the heavy metal doors, Jennifer tapped them lightly with her wand. A faint ripple of light spread across the surface, and golden letters shimmered into view: Abernathy Museum of Magic. Beneath this, more words appeared: Celebrating Australia’s Magical Legacy.

The doors creaked open, revealing a grand entrance hall that made Iris’ breath catch in her throat. Inside the sprawling lobby, the air was cool and inviting, the space bustling with witches, wizards, and their children. A grand chandelier floated high above, its crystals refracting light into an ever-shifting display of rainbows. Around the room, magical maps and interactive displays showcased Australia’s magical history, beckoning visitors to explore.

Dudley looked overwhelmed, his gaze darting from a seemingly empty early 1800’s naval uniform that marched around waving to visitors all by itself, to a group of children marvelling at a miniature replica of Uluru that shimmered with a magical aura. Nadia squeezed his arm gently, her expression calm but wary. Meanwhile, Iris and Taj exchanged excited glances, their curiosity barely contained.

“We should get our tickets,” Peter suggested, leading the way to the glossy, polished desk. Jennifer nodded in agreement, carrying herself with the composed grace of someone used to magical spaces.

As they queued for tickets, Taj tugged at Iris’s sleeve. “Do you think they’ll let us touch stuff? Like some of the exhibits?”

“I think so, look.” Iris replied, pointing at a nearby poster advertising the Hall of Wonders, where interactive magical objects awaited. When it was their turn at the desk, the two families paid for their tickets and the cheerful Welcome Witch waved her wand and conjured tickets from thin air, making the three children, Taj especially, grin in delight.

“Enjoy the museum! The guided tour starts in ten minutes, starting from just over there by the cafe.” she said with a wide smile. The families joined the rest of the tour group in the lobby. While they waited for the tour to begin, Jennifer indulged the children with a sparkling drink of Citrusaid each from the museum cafe.

Shortly afterward, a tall and elegant woman with auburn hair and robes embroidered with delicate golden stars and the Abernathy crest greeted them.

“Welcome to the Abernathy Museum,” she said warmly, her voice clear and inviting. “My name is Mara, and I’ll be your guide today. Together, we’ll journey through Australia’s rich magical history, from the Dreaming to the modern era. Along the way, we’ll meet some fascinating characters and artifacts that have shaped modern magical Australia.”

Iris and Arin were already leaning forward, eager for the tour to begin. Dudley, on the other hand, looked distinctly uncomfortable, his large hands jammed into his pockets. Mara led the group up a nearby staircase that curved around the wall to a landing which led into the first gallery, her wand flicking lightly to open a set of carved wooden doors that shimmered with soft blue light.

The first room was breathtaking. The walls were painted in vibrant earth tones, depicting vast landscapes of red deserts, ancient forests, and sparkling rivers. Hanging in the air were shimmering images of magical creatures, their forms shifting and flowing like living constellations.

“This is the Dreaming Exhibit,” Mara said. “The Indigenous peoples of this land have a magical history that stretches back well over 50,000 years.”

“This gallery honours the wisdom and magic of the First Nation Peoples,” Mara explained. “The Aboriginal magi were the first to harness Australia’s unique magical flora, fauna, and leylines.”

Dudley lingered by the edge of the group, keeping an eye on Taj, who had wandered toward a display of enchanted didgeridoos.

Jennifer leaned closer to him and said, “It’s important to know the roots of our magic. This exhibit is one of my favourites.” Dudley nodded in response as their guide, Mara continued.

“Their connection to the land, the sky, and the waters is unparalleled. They never used wands—their magic was entirely wandless, woven into their songs, ceremonies, and everyday lives.” She gestured toward a large mural of Wandjina figures, their cloud-like forms painted with mesmerizing detail.

“The Wandjina are the ancestral spirits of creation, guiding the magic of the land. Indigenous magi drew their power from these connections, crafting the raw magic that worked in harmony with nature rather than against it.”

She brought them to a glass case that displayed a set of carved stones, each glowing faintly with an inner light. “These are songstones,” Mara explained. “These particular specimens were recovered from a cave below the Anbangbang rock shelter. This is in the Northern Territory, in the area now known as Kakadu National Park.”

“They were used to amplify magic during ceremonies. The patterns on the stones represent the songs themselves, which were passed down orally for generations.”

One of the older visitors raised their hand. “Did the colonists learn anything from this magic?”

“Some tried,” Mara replied carefully. “But most dismissed it as primitive, failing to understand its depth and sophistication. It’s only in recent years that magical Australia has begun to appreciate the wisdom and power of Indigenous magic.” Mara admitted to the group.

“The magic wielded by the Indigenous peoples of eons past used was so powerful. Even today we don’t fully understand how much of it worked.” Mara continued leading them through the gallery, pointing out artifacts like enchanted tools, ceremonial objects, and more carved stones glowing faintly with protective magic.

Mara indicated the murals next. “These murals tell stories passed down through countless generations.” She gestured toward a mural of the Rainbow Serpent, its colourful body winding through the landscape, creating rivers and mountains. Another mural depicted a group of Indigenous magi casting protective magic to guard a sacred place from lurking shadowy figures.

“Indigenous magi were masters of protective magic, as well as elemental magic that harmonized with the land,” Mara explained. “Many of their techniques are still studied today by wizards and witches around the world.”

“Do they still practice magic like this?” Nadia asked, fascinated.

“Absolutely,” Mara replied. “While many traditions have tragically been lost, there are Indigenous magical families who continue to honor and preserve these practices.” She gestured to a mural of a magi standing atop a hill, their arms raised toward the heavens as stars seemed to swirl around them.

“This mural depicts a Star Weaver, a magi capable of drawing power from the constellations to cast their spells.” Iris stared, captivated. The figure in the mural seemed to move, their outline shimmering as if they were truly alive.

“This is incredible,” Iris whispered to Arin.

“Isn’t it?” Arin replied with a hushed voice.

Mara continued, leading the group to a collection of artifacts encased in glass. “Here, you’ll see ceremonial stones, spirit markers, and other tools used to focus magic. Each object is imbued with energy from its maker and can hold traces of their unique magical signature for centuries.”

Taj pressed his nose against the glass, staring at a glowing stone carved with intricate patterns. “So they didn’t need wands at all?”

“Not at all,” Mara answered him with a nod. “Their connection to magic was so strong, wands weren’t necessary. In fact, many of their techniques remain unmatched in power and elegance.”

As the group moved on, Mara brought them to the highlight of the Dreaming Exhibit - a life-size portrait near the back of the room. Unlike the formal, European style of other old paintings Iris had seen before, this one radiated warmth and vitality. It depicted an Indigenous elder seated on a smooth stone, his dark skin glowing in the painted sunlight. He was dressed in traditional ceremonial garb, with ochre markings painted across his chest and arms. A long wooden staff, carved with symbols of great power, rested across his lap. Behind him was a vibrant depiction of the land: red earth, lush green trees, and a waterfall cascading into a pool that shimmered with an otherworldly glow.

“This,” Mara said, her voice reverent, “is Wanyila, a Wandjina Elder and one of the most respected magi of the early 1600s. Wanyila was known for his deep connection to the land and for his wisdom in guiding both his people and the magical energies that surrounded them. His magic, like that of all Indigenous magi, was entirely wandless, drawn directly from the earth, sky, and waters.”

The group drew closer, their attention captivated by the serene but powerful presence of the elder in the painting.

“He looks… strong,” Iris murmured, her voice filled with awe.

“He was,” Mara said with a soft smile. “Wanyila was a leader, a teacher, and a protector of his people. His portrait is enchanted to preserve his wisdom, allowing visitors to engage with his stories and learn from him. It speaks both his native language, which is Yawuru, and English, so everyone can understand.”

“Speaks?...” Dudley asked. As if on cue, Wanyila’s painted eyes shifted, locking onto the group with a piercing yet kind gaze. His painted lips parted into a small, welcoming smile.

“Ngalig burr,” he said in a deep, resonant voice, his words flowing with an ancient rhythm. A moment later, his voice echoed again in English: “Welcome, friends.” Dudley took a hasty step back, hand reaching for Taj who was nearest protectively. Iris’ eyes boggled. A moving, talking painting?

The rest of group exchanged awed glances.

Iris hesitantly stepped closer to the painting. “Hello,” she said softly.

“Hello, child,” Wanyila replied, his smile widening. “Your people come from a land very far from here, yes?” Iris blinked in surprise, glancing at her parents.

“I… I guess so. How did you know?” The elder chuckled, a warm sound that seemed to echo through the room. “The magic around you is restless. It has not yet learned the language of this land. But it will, in time.”

Mara nodded toward Wanyila’s painted staff. “Wanyila was known for his extraordinary ability to sense the magic of others. He believed that all people carried unique threads of magic within them, woven into the greater tapestry of the land.”

Wanyila inclined his head, his painted eyes twinkling. “Magic is not only a power—it is a relationship. With the earth beneath your feet, the sky above, and the waters that flow. Tell me, what do you wish to know?”

Arin was the first to step forward, their curiosity shining. “What was it like back then? Before the colonists came?”

Wanyila’s expression grew thoughtful. “The land was alive, as it always has been. But it was quieter then, unbroken by foreign voices. We listened to the songs of the earth and spoke its language. Our magic was not written or bound—it was felt, understood. The Wandjina taught us, and we walked with their guidance.”

“You spoke to the Wandjina?” Iris asked, tilting her head. Wanyila’s smile returned. “The Wandjina are our ancestors, the spirit beings who created the land and all life upon it. They gave us our magic and taught us how to care for the world. Their wisdom flows through the rivers, whispers in the trees, and shines in the stars.”

Nadia stepped forward, her voice careful. “How did you use your magic?” Wanyila’s gaze met hers, calm and steady.

“We used it to heal, to protect, and to understand. Magic is not a tool for power—it is a bridge between the seen and unseen. We wove it into our daily lives, into our songs and ceremonies, into the ways we walked upon the land. Every step was a spell, every word a binding of life to life.”

“What did you think when the colonists came?” one of the other adults in the tour asked hesitantly. Wanyila’s expression shifted, a shadow crossing his features. “At first, my people were curious. Very few of the strange pale men had magic which seemed so strange to our people.”

“Those few who had magic, it felt strange, foreign. It carried the weight of metal and the coldness of stone. They did not listen to the land, and it did not speak to them. We tried to teach them, to show them the ways of balance and respect. But most could not hear.”

“They didn’t want to hear,” Nadia murmured, her face grim. Wanyila nodded solemnly.

“Many saw us as lesser, as though we were children playing at magic. They did not understand that our power came from the land itself, that it was older and deeper than they could imagine. Some were kind. Most were not.”

“Did you ever meet someone who listened?” Iris asked, her voice quiet. The elder’s smile returned, faint but genuine.

“There were a rare few. One, a Dutchman — was different. He listened with his heart, not just his ears. He respected our ways, even if he could not fully understand them. I taught him what I could.”

“What would you want us to learn from you?” a teenage boy in their group asked, his voice carrying a mix of reverence and hope. Wanyila leaned forward slightly, his painted features serious but gentle.

“To listen. To see the magic in all things—not just in wands and books, but in the earth, the wind, and the water. To understand that magic is a gift, not a weapon. And to remember that every action leaves a mark, on the land and on the spirit.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group. “You all come from many different places, but you walk the same land now. Treat it with respect. Learn its language. And it will guide you.”

The room fell silent, the elder’s words resonating deeply with the group. Even Taj, usually restless, stood still, his wide eyes fixed on the painting. Mara stepped forward, her voice soft.

“Wanyila’s teachings remind us that magic isn’t just about spells and power. It’s about connection—something many of us forget. The Indigenous magi had an understanding of magic that we’re only beginning to appreciate now.”

Wanyila nodded, his painted smile serene. “Magic is not yours to own. It is yours to share.” As the group turned to leave, Wanyila’s voice followed them. “Walk gently, friends. And may the land speak to you.”

Iris glanced back at the portrait, her heart filled with both wonder and gratitude. Wanyila’s calm, wise presence lingered in her mind as they moved toward the next exhibit, his words a quiet reminder of the depth and beauty of the magic that surrounded them.

Next, they entered a galley that Mara explained was largely revolving around the 1500’s. The next gallery was brighter, showcasing artifacts and murals from the era. A large section was dedicated to Portuguese wizard-explorers who sailed along Australia’s coast. “This ship’s fragment,” Mara said, pointing to a jagged piece of wood displayed in glass, “is from the Magia Estrela, a Portuguese wizarding vessel. Its crew documented early encounters with magical creatures unique to Australia, including yowies and drop bears.”

Nearby, mannequins displayed heavily embroidered robes lined with protective spells. Another case held a magical compass that always pointed toward the nearest leyline, its needle glowing faintly.

They entered the 1600s exhibit next, which expanded on these discoveries, featuring artifacts from Dutch explorers. A massive, interactive map filled one wall, showing routes taken by magical ships.

“This enchanted map,” Mara said, “updates itself to reflect discoveries from this era. You can even tap locations to see notes from the early Wizarding explorers.”

Iris tapped a glowing marker near Karratha, and a note appeared in mid-air: Encountered bunyip tracks. Advise extreme caution. Taj tapped another marker, this time in the middle of the Great Australian Bite. Another note appeared; Sighting of merpeople off the coast, these seem much bigger and a great deal uglier than their European and Caribbean counterparts.

The three of them exchanged awed expressions. Mara led them on, and the group’s attention was immediately drawn to a massive portrait framed in gold that dominated the far wall. The subject was a tall, sharp-featured man with piercing blue eyes, a devil-may-care smile, and a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore a navy coat with gold embroidery, a tricorn hat perched at a rakish angle, and a sword with a jewelled hilt resting casually under his hand. Behind him, a stormy sea raged, with a ship tossed on the waves in the distance.

“This,” Mara said, gesturing dramatically, “is Dirk Hartog, a Dutch wizard-explorer who first landed on Australian shores in 1616. He was one of the first Europeans to chart parts of this land and its magical features, including leylines and native flora and fauna. His journals are some of the earliest written accounts we have of magical Australia.”

As Mara spoke, Dirk’s painted eyes began to shift, scanning the group. His lips twitched into a roguish grin, and he turned his head slightly to address Mara. “That’s Captain Dirk Hartog, I’ll thank you to address me using my proper title, Madam.” he admonished her, but his expression made it clear it was in good humour.

“Well, well. Another crowd come to admire me. Welcome, friends! You’ve arrived at the highlight of your day.” he announced with a distinct accent. The group chuckled, warming to Dirk’s cheeky personality immediately. So,” Dirk said, leaning slightly toward the group, “what do you want to know? My grand adventures? The time I outwitted a French pirate? Or perhaps how I survived a sea-dragon’s rage?”

Mara raised an eyebrow but smiled indulgently. “Why don’t you start with the French pirate? It’s always a favourite.”

“Ah, the pirate! Excellent choice!” Dirk’s painted chest puffed out with pride. “The year was 1612. I was sailing through the Java Sea aboard my trusty ship, the Magische Zephyr. We were carrying a cargo of enchanted pearls when a French brigadier—a filthy pirate named Étienne LeBlanc—appeared on the horizon. The man was infamous for stealing magical treasures, and he set his sights on the Pearls of Persuasion that I had in my hold.” He leaned forward, his painted eyes glittering with mischief.

“LeBlanc boarded us and demanded my wand as a trophy. Can you imagine? My wand! Naturally, I told him he’d have to duel me for it.”

“What happened?” Taj asked, his voice eager.

“LeBlanc was quick, I’ll give him that,” Dirk admitted. “But he wasn’t as clever as me. I cast Tempestus Maxima, summoning a thunderstorm right above the deck. The lightning struck his wand clean out of his hand. He surrendered, of course, and I kept my wand, my pearls, and his ship’s entire supply of rum for my trouble.”

The group laughed, and one of the teenagers asked, “What did you do with the rum?” Dirk smirked.

“Drank half of it, sold the rest. A man’s got to fund his next adventure somehow.”

“What about the sea-dragon?” Iris asked, stepping closer to the painting. “Did that really happen?”

“Oh, it happened,” Dirk said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “It was 1615, off the coast of what you now call Shark Bay. My crew and I were charting the coastline when we came across an enormous nest of sea-dragons.”

“What do sea-dragons look like?” asked one of the elderly witches in the group. Dirk’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Magnificent creatures! They’re serpentine, with scales that shimmer like emeralds under the sun and wings as transparent as fine crystal. But they’re not fond of company, especially when they have eggs to protect. One particularly large female—twice the length of my ship—rose from the depths and decided we were trespassing.”

“What did you do?” Arin asked. Dirk grinned.

“My crew panicked, of course, but I, I am Dirk Hartog! I kept my cool. I cast a projection charm to mimic the roar of a rival dragon. She hesitated, clearly thinking twice about attacking another of her kind. Then I conjured a massive plume of fire over the water, just enough to convince her we weren’t worth the trouble. She dove back into the depths, and we sailed away unharmed.”

“You didn’t try to fight it?” one of the teenagers asked skeptically. Dirk scoffed.

“I’m daring, not suicidal. A duel with a pirate is one thing, but a sea-dragon? You show respect, or you end up as dinner.”

“Captain,” Nadia asked, stepping forward, “Can you tell us your first impressions when you landed in Australia?” The painting’s expression softened, and Dirk looked thoughtful.

“When I first stepped onto these shores, I was struck by how alive the land felt. The magic here is… different. Wilder. In Europe, magic feels structured, almost tame. But here? It’s like the air hums with it, and the earth itself pulses with power. I knew I’d found a place unlike any other.”

“Did you meet Indigenous magi?” asked one of the elderly visitors.

“I did,” Dirk said, nodding. “They were unlike any magical practitioners I’d met before—or since. Their connection to magic was seamless, as though they were magic itself. They didn’t need wands or books or incantations. Their magic came from their voices, their hands, their very presence. I count myself lucky to have learned a fraction of what they were willing to share.”

“What did they teach you?” Arin asked. Dirk chuckled.

“Mostly, they taught me how little I knew. They were kind enough not to hex me when I asked foolish questions, and they showed me how to respect the land. They also taught me how to listen. Did you know that the rocks in some places sing if you’re patient enough? Magical ley lines hum beneath the surface, and they knew how to hear them.”

“What kind of creatures did you encounter?” Iris asked, her eyes wide.

“Oh, so many!” Dirk said, his face lighting up. “Bunyips lurking in billabongs, their glowing eyes peering out of the water at night. Hoop snakes that roll faster than the wind, and drop bears of course.”

“You saw drop bears?” Taj asked, his mouth agape. “Of course!” Dirk said, laughing. “And I learned quickly to carry beer as a deterrent. The little devils hate the smell.”

“What about yowies?” asked one of the teenagers. Dirk shuddered theatrically. “Powerful things, yowies. They’re like trolls but cleaner and much smarter. You stay away from Yowies if you know what’s good for you! I had a close call with one, but I was clever enough to lure it into a patch of enchanted thorns. Took hours to clean the brambles out of my boots.”

As Mara prepared to move the group on, Captain Dirk Hartog straightened in his frame and tipped his tricorn hat. “It’s been a pleasure sharing my exploits with you. Remember: the world is full of danger, but fortune favours the bold. Respect the land, trust your wits, and never—never—run out of rum.” The group laughed and waved as Mara led them to the next exhibit.

The room holding the 1700’s Exhibit was a stark contrast, its displays colder and seemed more oppressive. Display cases held artifacts from the 1700s, each with a plaque describing its history.

Mara guided them along, explaining the significance of each item. One case held a weathered ship’s log from a wizarding vessel that had sailed alongside Captain Cook’s Endeavour.

In the center of the room was a glass case surrounded by faintly glowing runes. Inside sat a small wooden box, its surface dark with age and covered in intricate carvings. The plaque above it read: Pandora’s Box: Mystery and Legend.

“This,” Mara said, her voice hushed, “is one of our most mysterious artifacts.” The group leaned closer. Iris felt a strange but disturbing something as she studied the carvings, which seemed to shift slightly under her gaze.

“Pandora’s Box was recovered from the wreck of the HMS Pandora in 1962 by my parents,” Mara explained. “The ship sank off the Great Barrier Reef in 1791 while transporting recaptured mutineers and dark wizards from the HMS Bounty, they were headed back to England.”

“When the Pandora was eventually found, divers discovered this box among the wreckage, they realised it was no ordinary artefact and my parents were contacted to safely recover and handle the Box.”

“To this day, no one knows how it came to be on the ship as recovered records had no mention of it.” Mara continued.

“It looks so… old,” said one of the elderly witches in the group.

“It is,” Mara confirmed. “Experts tell us that it predates the Pandora by centuries, possibly originating in Europe during the early medieval period. The carvings on its surface resemble Celtic and Norse patterns, but there are also traces of Egyptian influences. It’s a true enigma.”

“What’s inside it?” Taj asked, his voice hushed. Mara smiled faintly.

“No one knows. All attempts to open it have failed. Some say it contains a powerful magical artifact, others a dangerous scroll. There are even theories that it holds knowledge from ancient civilisations, preserved for future generations.”

“I heard it’s cursed.” one of the other teenage boys in their tour group piped up, his tone more skeptical than fearful.

“That’s the popular rumor,” Mara admitted. “Some say anyone who tries to open it will be struck by terrible misfortune. But I think it’s just a story. A box like this invites speculation—it’s part of the mystery.”

Jennifer Rothschild studied the carvings closely, her brow furrowed. “Has anyone ever tried to break the enchantment?”

“Many have,” Mara replied. “But the box resists even the most advanced detection and unlocking spells. Its magic is incredibly old and layered. Most researchers agree it’s best left alone.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 – History Isn’t Always Nice

Mara moved the group on toward another large, ornately framed portrait that loomed over the 1700’s gallery. She halted the group some way from it and addressed them sombrely.

“We are about to meet another portrait to speak to. But I do warn you, this portrait may tell you some unpleasant and disturbing stories. Just remember that she is only a painting and is not a living person - merely a captured memory of one. She cannot learn and she cannot evolve.”

The subject was a striking woman with pale skin, sharp features, and piercing grey eyes. Her dark hair was swept back into an elaborate bun, adorned with enchanted pearls that glimmered faintly. She wore a severe black gown trimmed with silver embroidery, and her posture radiated authority and icy confidence.

Behind her stretched a vast plantation estate, complete with neat rows of crops and tiny, shadowy figures working the fields. Iris shuffled closer to her father, remembering their guide’s earlier warning.

“This,” Mara said, her tone noticeably cooler than before, “is Elspeth Addington, a colonial witch who arrived in Australia in 1788 with the First Fleet. A skilled potioneer and enforcer of early magical laws, Addington played a significant role in the establishment of Australia’s magical legal system. However, her legacy is… complicated.”

Elspeth’s painted eyes shifted, locking onto the group with a calculating gaze. Her lips curved into a small, tight smile. “Ah, visitors. How charming. I trust you are here to learn of and admire the accomplishments my age?” Her voice was very upper-crust English, her tone unwelcoming. The group exchanged uneasy glances. The sharp contrast between Elspeth and Dirk Hartog’s warm, cheeky demeanor was immediately apparent.

“Er, hello,” Peter Rothschild said awkwardly, shifting on his feet. Elspeth tilted her head, her expression coldly amused. “How quaint. A Muggle, I see. Fascinating that you’ve been permitted to mingle in a place of such sophistication. But no matter—I shall endure.”

Mara cleared her throat, stepping forward. “Elspeth Addington was instrumental in establishing the Ministry of Magic’s first colonial outpost in Australia. Her contributions to potion development were significant, particularly her research into using native flora for healing potions.”

Elspeth’s painted features softened slightly at the mention of her work. “Yes, my potions were—and remain—unmatched. The medicinal properties of this land’s peculiar plants were wasted on the so-called magi who dwelled here before us. It was I who first harnessed their true potential.”

Nadia frowned. “What do you mean, ‘so-called magi’?” Elspeth’s smile grew sharper, and her voice dripped with condescension.

“Another Muggle? What is the world coming to?” Elspeth sniffed, the word Muggle said in the same tone one might say something like slug. Nadia’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Iris quickly grasped her mother’s hand hoping to prevent an all-out argument with a painting.

“Oh, my dear, surely you don’t mean to suggest that the wild gestures and chants of those… primitives constitute real magic? Their lack of wands, their inability to master even the simplest charms—they were barely more than animals.” The air in the gallery grew tense. Elspeth continued, her tone growing icier.

“When we arrived, the land was untamed, savage. The natives were no better than the wild beasts that roamed the land. If they could not serve, they were irrelevant.”

“Serve?” Dudley spoke for the first time, his voice incredulous. The portrait looked him up and down, her mouth curving in a sneer. Elspeth’s portrait turned briefly to Mara. “You really are letting all sorts in here, aren’t you?” before turning back to Dudley.

“They were savages,” she said icily. “We brought them discipline and civility.”

“Did you ever even try to understand their magic?” asked one of the other witches in the group, her voice trembling slightly. Elspeth’s eyes narrowed, and her painted hand adjusted the cuffs of her gown with deliberate precision.

“Why would I waste my time? Their ‘magic’ was incoherent, chaotic. They spoke to the wind and the trees as though that were an achievement. True magic is structured, disciplined. It requires a wand, a refined mind, and—” She paused, letting her gaze sweep over the group, “—an elevated bloodline.”

Iris clenched her fists, her temper flaring. “You mean you didn’t even try to learn from them? Their magic was just different to yours!”

Elspeth’s smile vanished, and her painted gaze landed squarely on Iris, as though appraising her. “In my day, children were seen and not heard. Child, you speak of things you cannot possibly comprehend. No, there was nothing to ‘learn’ from them. There was no need. My wand and my training were superior in every way.”

“You enslaved them, didn’t you?” Nadia asked, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Elspeth’s expression didn’t falter, but her painted features took on a gleam of cruel amusement.

“Such a crude term. I preferred to think of it as ensuring order. Discipline. Many of the natives were entirely unsuited for civilized life. But those who could serve… well, they learned their place quickly enough.”

One of the other ladies in their tour group spoke up, her voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath it. “You mean you robbed them of their freedom. And their knowledge. And their dignity.” Elspeth raised a painted eyebrow, her expression mockingly curious.

“Oh, how modern of you to say. Tell me, little philosopher, would you have preferred chaos? Disorder? Without witches and wizards like me, this colony would have crumbled.”

Behind the group, a nearby exhibit stirred to life. A long, polished wooden dining table was set with fine china and gleaming silverware, flanked by enchanted mannequins dressed as officers of the First Fleet. The mannequins—positioned to reflect a formal colonial dinner—suddenly began to animate, their heads turning and nodding as if participating in the conversation.

Their faces were stern and impassive, but their voices, though monotone, carried a faint air of agreement. “Indeed, Madam Addington,” one of the mannequins said, tipping his tricorn hat. “Civilization must be maintained at all costs.”

“Savages,” another mannequin muttered, shaking his head. “Simply impossible to reason with.”

“Hear, hear!” added a third, raising an enchanted goblet, the liquid within shimmering faintly. “Order must be enforced.”

The visitors recoiled slightly at the eerie display. Taj pressed himself closer to his mother, his earlier curiosity replaced with unease.

“Do you see?” Elspeth said, gesturing toward the mannequins. “My peers understood the necessity of my work. The colony depended on discipline—on my discipline. Without it, the rabble would have overtaken us.”

Mara finally stepped in, her voice firm. “Elspeth’s views were not shared by all colonists. Some early settlers did recognise the value and dignity of the First Peoples and their magic.”

“Elspeth’s portrait is here to remind us of a time when such attitudes were prevalent—and to ensure we learn from them.”

Elspeth’s gaze flicked to Mara, her expression faintly amused. “How delightfully naive of you to think so.”

As the group moved away from the portrait, the tension lingered. Iris glanced back at Elspeth, who had returned to adjusting her cuffs with meticulous precision, as though the conversation had been nothing more than a passing distraction.

“That witch,” Arin muttered, their voice low with barely contained rage, “was evil.”

“She’s awful,” Taj said, his voice small.

“She’s history,” Nadia replied firmly. “And history isn’t always nice.” Mara nodded her agreement.

“We’ll move on now to the 1800s gallery,” Mara said, her voice a touch softer. “There, we’ll see changes and developments — and how those changes shaped the magical community we have today.” As they stepped into the next gallery, Iris couldn’t shake the cold weight of Elspeth Addington’s words. It was a stark reminder that the magical world, for all its wonders, was not immune to the darkness of humanity’s past.

Mara gestured to other nearby displays, guiding the group through a series of fascinating artefacts. A beautifully carved wand and a shimmering map that displayed the locations of Australia’s now-dormant ley lines.

“These ley lines were active during the 1800’s but have since faded, possibly due to the disruption of the land’s natural magic,” Mara said. Nearby, a wand carved from Tasmanian oak, was engraved with glowing runes.

“This wand belonged to Captain Elijah Stannard, it was the first recorded magic wand made entirely from Australian wood, with an Australian creature core. He famously used it to cast protective enchantments over his fleet during storms,” Mara told them.

Next, Mara led them to a glowing lantern that emitted a soothing, magical light. “This is one of the early settler lanterns dated in the mid 1800’s and was discovered in a walled up old cellar of a house in Sydney. It’s incredibly well preserved. It was used by settlers to ward off dangerous creatures like bunyips and yowies,” Mara explained.

The air in the 1900s gallery was markedly different from the dim and oppressive atmosphere of the 1700s. Here, the lighting was brighter, the exhibits more polished, showcasing the progress and modernization of magical Australia during the early 20th century. The artifacts on display included enchanted radios, early prototypes of magical vehicles, and shimmering maps that tracked the growth of magical communities across the country.

The group entered a quieter part of the 1900s gallery. Unlike the austere atmosphere of the earlier section, this space felt warmer, almost reverent. The lighting softened, casting a golden glow over the walls, which displayed photographs, artifacts, and paintings honouring those who contributed to the future of magical Australia.

They came upon a small, elegantly framed portrait hanging on a richly coloured wall. The subject was a young woman, her dark brown skin glowing in the painted sunlight. She wore a neat but simple servant’s dress. Her thick black hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her brown eyes radiated a quiet kindness. Her lips were curved into a soft smile, though it carried a trace of melancholy.

“This,” Mara said, stopping before the portrait, “is Nyree Kalari. She was one of the Stolen Generation. Nyree was born in the Kimberley region in 1908 and was taken from her family in 1916 when she was just eight years old. She was sent to live in a Mission near Moora initially, where she was raised to fit into colonial magical society.”

The group fell silent, the weight of the story settling over them. Iris stepped closer to the portrait, captivated by Nyree’s calm, sweet expression.

“She looks so… kind,” Iris said softly.

“She was,” Mara said. “Nyree was known for her gentle nature and her ability to bring people together. But her story is bittersweet, as she spent much of her life torn between two worlds.”

Responding to their presence, Nyree’s painted eyes shifted, focusing on the group. Her smile widened slightly, and she tilted her head. “Oh, hello,” she said, her voice warm and melodic. “It’s so nice to have visitors.” The group exchanged glances, a mixture of sadness and wonder. Nyree’s painted gaze swept over them, her expression growing brighter as she spotted Iris, Arin and Taj.

“Are you students?” she asked. “You look young enough to be at Nyambi.”

“We’re,” Iris gestured to herself and Arin, “starting at Nyambi this year.”

“I’m going in 2 more years!” Taj interjected.

Nyree’s painted expression softened. “You’ll love it. Nyambi was… a good place for me. Even when I felt lost, it gave me something to hold on to.”

Peter addressed the portrait, his voice careful but curious, “Do you mind telling us your story, Nyree?” Nyree’s smile faltered slightly, and she seemed to consider the question before answering.

“I don’t mind,” she said gently. “It’s important to remember.” Her painted expression grew thoughtful.

“I was born far from here, in a place where the land hums with magic. My family was my whole world. My mother taught me the songs of the river, the whispers of the trees. My grandfather showed me how to feel the stars’ power and the strength of the earth beneath my feet. We didn’t need wands or books—our magic came from our connection to the land.”

She paused, her expression clouding. “Then they came. The Police. The Aurors. The wizards with their papers and their wands. They said I was ‘half-caste,’ that I needed a better life. They said my family couldn’t care for me properly.” Her voice grew softer. “They took me away.”

Taj stepped closer, his voice small. “Didn’t your family try to stop them?” Nyree nodded sadly. “They tried. My mother begged them not to take me. My grandfather—he fought. But it didn’t matter. They had the white man’s law on their side. And their wand-magic.” The group stood in heavy silence as Nyree continued.

“I was taken to a Mission run by nuns. They were often cruel, and punished any of us who showed any spirit or any rebellion harshly. They tried to teach me how to act, how to speak, how to fit into their world.”

Nyree’s expression brightened slightly. “Then they sent me to Nyambi School of Enchantment. I didn’t know what to expect, but Headmistress Katherine Wakefield was kind enough. She told me and others like me that we were welcome, that Nyambi could be my home.”

“Did it feel like home?” Arin asked, their voice quiet.

Nyree hesitated. “Not at first. I felt so different from the older students. They had wands, books, family histories filled with spells. My magic felt… raw. Wild. I was ashamed of it, even though I shouldn’t have been.” Her smile returned, soft and wistful. “But Nyambi House itself was kind to me. It guided me when I was lost, opened doors I didn’t know existed. And some of the students were kind, too. I made friends. Slowly, I began to find my place.”

“What was your magic like?” Iris asked eagerly. “Did it change at Nyambi?” Nyree’s painted eyes lit up with pride.

“Oh, my magic was strong—different, but strong. I didn’t need a wand to cast spells. The professors were fascinated by the way I could channel the energy of the land. I taught some of them about the songs of my people, though I never shared too much. Some things are sacred.” She sighed, her expression turning bittersweet.

“But at the end of each term I had to return to the Mission. The nuns would praise me for being ‘civilized,’ for being a ‘credit to my race.’ They meant well I suppose, but it hurt. They didn’t see that I was still me—Nyree from Wanjina Wunggurr. They only saw what they’d made me into.”

“Did you ever go home again?” The elderly witch in their group asked softly. Nyree’s painted smile faltered again.

“I tried. After I graduated, I returned to the Kimberley. But my family… they weren’t there. My grandfather had died, my mother was gone and the community I’d known had changed. I was a stranger to them, and they were strangers to me.” Her voice grew softer. “I loved them. I missed them every day. But I didn’t belong anymore. I belonged nowhere. I came to Perth and took a job as a servant in the home of a pureblood English wizarding family.”

“They weren’t unkind people, they didn’t hurt me. I spent many years in their service and I wasn’t entirely unhappy.” Nyree told them. “When the family sat for their portraits, the artist begged to paint mine also, and the family allowed it.” She said. “The artist gifted Nyree this portrait, though unbeknown to the family. We spent much time together in secret, myself and Nyree. We were companionship and confidants for many, many years.”

The group fell silent, the weight of Nyree’s words settling over them like a heavy blanket. As the group began to step away from Nyree Kalari’s portrait, Mara’s voice, warm and measured, stopped them.

“There’s one more thing you should know about Nyree,” she said, turning to face them with a soft smile. “She’s still with us.” The group collectively paused, their expressions shifting from sombre to surprised.

“She’s still alive?” Iris asked, her voice filled with wonder as she turned back toward the portrait.

“Yes,” Mara confirmed, her own expression brightening. “Nyree Kalari is 112 years old, and she still lives. She is now back in the Kimberley region where she was born. After everything she endured, she eventually found peace there. She built a life for herself—a real life, on her own terms.”

“She lives in a small house that her husband built for her, surrounded by bushland and paintings,” Mara continued. “She’s completely self-sufficient.” Nyree and her husband, Geoffrey, had two children, both grown now, and half a dozen grandchildren—all magical. She also has four great-grandchildren.”

“Wow.” Arin said, their voice quiet with reverence.

“Her family carries her legacy. They’ve stayed connected to their Indigenous roots while embracing their magical heritage. It wasn’t always easy—Nyree had to fight to reclaim what was taken from her. But she succeeded. Her children and grandchildren know the songs of her people and the spells she learned at Nyambi.”

“Are any of her family at Nyambi now?” Dudley asked. Mara shook her head. “No, they’ve all long graduated from Nyambi. They may eventually have children of their own. If they do, they’ll know exactly who they are thanks to Nyree’s strength and determination.”

Taj tugged on Nadia’s sleeve, his voice full of wonder. “Do you think she remembers all of this? Being at Nyambi?”

Mara smiled. “Oh, absolutely. She’s shared her memories with her family—and with the school. She’s visited Nyambi several times over the years, speaking to students about her experiences and her unique magic. She’s even donated some of her journals and spell notes, which are kept in the school’s library.”

Arin’s eyes lit up. “So she didn’t just survive. She thrived.”

“She did,” Mara agreed. “And she continues to inspire everyone who hears her story.”

Nadia, her voice gentle, asked, “Does Nyree know her portrait is here?” Mara nodded.

“Yes, she does. When she donated her portrait decades ago, she insisted on one condition: that anything her portrait wished to say, it would say unhindered and uncensored.” Nyree’s painted eyes seemed to glimmer with pride as Mara spoke.

“She’s proud of who she is,” Mara continued, “and she wants others to remember that even when everything is taken from you, you can find a way to rebuild.”

It was in contemplative silence that Mara led the tour group to another area of the building, to the Hall Of Wonders. The heavy double doors of the Hall of Wonders opened with a soft whoosh, and the tour group stepped into a vast, brightly lit space that immediately captured their imaginations.

The room was immense, its high ceiling charmed to resemble a dazzling summer sky, complete with drifting clouds and the occasional flash of magical lightning that dissipated harmlessly into the air. The walls shimmered, shifting between displays of enchanted artwork and interactive projections of magical history.

Scattered throughout the hall were dozens of exhibits, each one pulsing with life and energy. Floating platforms displayed artifacts that glimmered enticingly, while magical creatures in enchanted habitats chirped, growled, or fluttered their wings.

Signs in elegant gold script read things like ‘Spellbound Crystals: Watch Them Change Shape!’ and ‘The Wand That Writes for You!’

“This is the Hall of Wonders,” Mara announced with a sweep of her arm. “Here, you’ll find some of the most extraordinary interactive exhibits in the museum. Feel free to explore, but do so carefully. While we’ve ensured that everything is safe, some items are quite powerful.” The group buzzed with excitement as they began to fan out.

Iris and Taj were among the first to dart off, their faces alight with curiosity. Even Dudley, who had been sceptical of everything so far, seemed cautiously intrigued as he followed Nadia and Jennifer into the hall.

“Stay together, kids!” Peter called after Arin and Iris, though his words were quickly drowned out by the sounds from the exhibits and the chatter of other visitors.

Iris and Arin stopped first at a glowing pedestal that held a set of shimmering, faceted crystals. A sign above read: ‘Change the Shape with Your Intent!’

“Mum says intent is really important in magic. Let’s try it out!” Arin said, reaching out. They paused, glancing at the museum worker nearby, who nodded encouragingly. Iris tentatively touched one of the crystals, which glowed brighter at her touch.

“Okay,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I want… a star.” The crystal began to shift, its edges folding inward and reforming until a perfect, glowing star floated above the pedestal. Arin clapped in delight.

“That’s amazing! Let me try.” They placed their hands on another crystal, their brow furrowing in concentration. A moment later, it reshaped itself into a delicate spiral shell. Taj appeared beside them, bouncing on his toes.

“Let me do it! I want a dragon!” The actual sign chuckled at him, much to everyone’s delighted surprise; “Good luck with that. The crystals respond best to simple shapes.” it said. Taj ignored it, his face scrunched with determination. To everyone’s surprise, the crystal warped and twisted until it formed a crude, lopsided dragon. Its wings were uneven, but Taj beamed with pride.

“See? Dragon!”

Nearby, a small arena showcased a collection of enchanted broomsticks that bounced erratically across the floor, emitting squeaky giggles as they dodged visitors’ attempts to catch them.

“Go on, give it a try!” the museum staff member encouraged Taj, who eagerly joined the fray. Iris watched, laughing as her brother lunged for a particularly agile broomstick, only for it to leap over his head with a mischievous giggle.

“Come here, you!” Taj shouted, chasing it in circles until he finally grabbed the handle. The broomstick vibrated in mock protest before settling into his hands, and the museum staff gave him a small prize: a miniature broomstick of his own that hovered just above his palm.

Jennifer and Nadia had wandered to a desk where a gleaming, enchanted quill hovered above a sheet of parchment. A sign read: ‘Think It, and the Quill Will Write!’

“Shall we try?” Jennifer asked, raising an eyebrow at Nadia.

Nadia nodded. “Go ahead.”

Jennifer leaned forward, her brow furrowing in concentration. The quill dipped and began to write in elegant script: Jennifer Rothschild is a remarkable witch. Nadia snorted with laughter.

Jennifer grinned. “Well, it’s true.” She gestured for Nadia to take a turn. Nadia thought for a moment, and the quill scrawled: Nadia Dursley has the patience of a saint and the legs of a supermodel. Jennifer burst out laughing. “Accurate.”

At the centre of the hall, a massive mirror stood in an ornate gold frame, drawing the attention of Dudley and Peter. The sign above read: ‘See Your Magical Potential!’ Peter stepped forward first, his reflection shimmering before changing entirely. In the mirror, he wore elegant wizarding robes, a glowing wand in his hand. “Not bad,” he muttered, adjusting his tie in real life as he admired his reflection.

Dudley hesitated. “I don’t think it’ll work for me.”

“Only one way to find out,” Peter said, gesturing for him to step closer. Reluctantly, Dudley approached. His reflection shimmered, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, to his astonishment, the mirror displayed him holding a wand awkwardly, as if it were a foreign object. He was dressed in oversized, ill-fitting robes, and his reflection looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Well,” Dudley said with a shrug as Peter began to laugh, “At least it’s honest.” He was surprised to realise he was actually beginning to enjoy himself. The group continued to explore, laughter and excitement filling the air. Iris and Arin had just started examining a terrarium containing a handful of jewel-bright, scuttling lizards, while Taj was back chasing another bouncing broomstick. Nadia and Jennifer were discussing an enchanted map, and Dudley stood awkwardly near the enchanted mirror, unsure where to go next.

Without warning, a deafening boom shook the entire hall. The floor trembled violently, sending several visitors stumbling. A blinding flash of blue light erupted from the far end of the room, followed by a wave of energy that knocked over displays and sent artifacts crashing to the ground. Smoke and sparks filled the air, and the room was suddenly plunged into chaos.

“What’s happening?” Iris shouted, grabbing Arin’s arm as the two of them ducked behind a pedestal for cover as their respective mothers screamed their names.

“Everyone, stay calm!” Mara’s voice rang out, though it was nearly drowned by the panicked shouts of visitors. Taj ran toward Nadia, his face pale with fear.

“Mum! What’s going on?”

“Stay with me!” Nadia said firmly, pulling him close as Jennifer joined them. Dudley’s face was ashen as he stumbled toward his family, his large hands gripping Taj’s shoulders protectively.

“We need to get out of here—now!” Mara called loudly to the group “Everyone follow me to the nearest exit!”

“What was that explosion?” someone yelled.

“I don’t know,” another staff member replied grimly. “Please follow Mara calmly and orderly. You will be perfectly safe!” Smoke thickened, and the group clung to each other as Mara cast a couple of quick spells over them and they were herded toward the exit.

Another burst of magical energy echoed through the hall, sending the crowd surging forward in panic. Iris felt her heart pounding as she groped for Taj’s hand and grasped it tightly, determined not to let go.

Outside, the calm skies and summer heat was a sharp contrast to the chaos inside. A group of uniformed witches and wizards arrived at speed on flying brooms and quickly cordoned off the area, their faces grim as they directed visitors away from the building. Iris, still shaken, looked back at the smoke rising from the museum. “What just happened?” she asked, clinging to Nadia’s side. No one had an answer.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - The Lime Green Bus

The drive back home was nearly silent. Only the low hum of the car’s engine and the occasional clicking of the indicator filled the quiet. The smell of burned metal and smoke still clung to their clothes and every time Iris closed her eyes, she the jagged hole in the wall, the smoke and dust rolling through the air and the panicked visitors scrambling to get to safety.

Her mother was driving, Dudley sitting in the passenger seat. Taj was asleep in the back next to her, his head lolling against the window, oblivious to the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Iris sat stiffly beside him, knees drawn up to her chest. Her heart still hammered against her ribs. Every time she looked at Dudley’s face when he glanced back as though to check they were still there – his expression pale, tight mouthed – she knew what he was thinking.

He was going to say no.

By the time they reached home, the sun was beginning its long descent into the western horizon, the sky a bright endless blue, fading to purple and indigo around the edges. Taj stumbled inside without a word, still half asleep. Nadia followed close behind him, but Iris lingered in the hallway. Her pulse quickened as she heard her Dad lock the door behind them, the sound sharp and final.

It was Nadia who broke the silence first;

“Well,” she said briskly, shaking off her ash-stained shoes, “That was a bloody disaster.”

Dudley’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, as if he was holding something back – something huge. For a moment, she thought he might shout, but when he finally opened his mouth, his voice was low and tight.

“She’s not going.”

There it was. The sentence that Iris had been dreading since the moment she heard the explosion. Her heart dropped like a stone.

“What?” she blurted out, stepping forward. “No! Dad, you can’t – “

“Iris.” Dudley’s voice was sharper now, but it wavered. He turned to face her and she saw the terror in his eyes despite his attempt to hide it. “I’ve made up my mind. You’re not going to that school, its too dangerous.”

“But – “

“You saw what happened!” His voice cracked, startling them both. “That – that explosion – people could have died. You could have died!” he took a shaky breath, raking a hand through his hair. “You think I’m going to send you off into that?”

“That wasn’t the school’s fault, it had nothing to do with school!” Iris argued, her voice rising, “That could have happened anywhere – “

“But it didn’t, did it?” Dudley snapped, the sudden heat in his voice making her flinch. “It happened at their museum. A bloody magical museum. That whole place was crawling with – with…” his voice trailed off, shaking his head as if the word itself made him sick.

…”wizards.” He spat, like the word was bitter on his tongue.

“Iris’ stomach twisted. He was afraid, she realised.

Not just of the explosion – not just of what had happened today, but of everything magical.

“Dudley.” Nadia’s voice was quiet, but firm as she reappeared in the hallway, “We always knew there would be risks.”

“Not like this!” Dudley shot back, spinning to face her. “Not bombs going off! Not basically a war-zone!” He turned back to his daughter, his face pinched and pale. “I won’t let you walk into that. I won’t.”

Iris throat felt tight, she could feel tears springing into the corners of her eyes and she ground her teeth and blinked, willing them away.

“It’s not your choice,” Iris replied, her voice trembling. “It’s mine.”

Dudley’s face hardened – a flicker of something stubborn and familiar flashing behind his eyes.

“You’re not even twelve years old yet,” he said flatly. “My job as a parent is to protect you and that is what I will do. You can study magic if you must, when you’re an adult.”

Iris’ fists clenched at her sides. Her whole body was shaking, anger bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest – hotter and sharper than anything she’d ever felt before. It wasn’t fair. He was afraid – she could see that. She could feel it – like a knot twisting inside her own chest. But he didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand what it was like to have magic. He didn’t know what it was like to feel different. So other from everyone else around her. He didn’t understand feeling as though she never fit – like a jigsaw puzzle-piece that just wasn’t quite right to slot into the world around it like all the others.

He didn’t understand what it was like to finally know who she was – to know there was a place for her out there, a whole new world she was supposed to belong to.

“You’re not Harry.” Dudley said suddenly, his voice hoarse. “You’re not – you’re my little girl. And I won’t lose you.”

Iris swallowed hard, fiercely wiping away the tears that refused to stop coming. For a moment she couldn’t speak. The room felt too small, too hot, the walls pressing in on all sides.

“I know you’re scared, Dad.” Iris said quietly. Her voice wobbled but she forced herself to look him in the eye. “I’m scared too. I’ve always been scared – of what I am, of what’s been happening to me. And I didn’t even know why.” She took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

Dudley’s face twisted, something flickering behind his eyes. Nadia stepped forward, resting a gentle hand on her arm.

“You’re not sending her into danger, love.” Nadia murmured, “Iris isn’t asking to go into danger, she’s asking you to let her belong.”

Dudley’s breath caught. For one awful, endless moment nobody spoke. Iris could see the battle raging inside her father – fear against love, memories against hope.

Finally, his shoulders slumped. He looked at Iris as though he was already losing something – something he had been trying to hold onto for as long as he could.

“She’s just a kid.” He whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

“She needs this.” Nadia told him, “She needs to learn how to do this for herself, how to keep herself safe. This is even better than self-defence classes at the gym and all the Body Safety Rules. There isn’t a war, this was probably just an accident, the last wizarding war was in Britain and it ended over a decade ago, Jen was telling me.”

Dudley squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, they were bright with unshed tears.

“I’ll think about it.” He said hoarsely.

It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no, either. Iris nodded slowly. It was the closest she was going to get – for now. But deep down she knew, he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

********

On the 2nd of February, Iris awoke suddenly and completely at the crack of dawn. She got herself a quick breakfast of cereal before the rest of her family had awoken and returned to her room to pack for school. She'd deliberately not packed the day before, because she knew she'd be too excited with nothing to do as time dragged slowly that morning.

One of the items they had purchased in Rocky Road was a large wizarding trunk for her to pack all her clothes and belongings into. The trunk was navy blue like her uniform with large brass hinges and a brass clip on the front.

It had come with a magical lock which did not have a key, but only opened when Iris placed the tip of her wand in the keyhole and said the word 'recludo'. The saleswitch assured her that once set, the lock would not open for any other wand or person. Even if somebody else should try to use Iris' wand they would not be able to open the lock. Naturally as soon as she got home, she had her brother try and was delighted to see that no matter how hard or often he tried with her wand, he was unable to unlock the trunk.

She had been nervous at first to let Taj try given what Madam Rosier had said, but nothing at all happened to him and she wondered if Madam Rosier had just been trying to scare her on purpose. She supposed that somebody who seemed that mean may think it quite funny to try to intimidate her.

Iris began carefully packing her books. She had read a little from each so far, finding them fascinating and instructive. She hadn't dared try a spell of her own yet, though. They'd been thoroughly warned at Orientation that students were strictly forbidden from practicing magic at home and the last thing she wanted was to be expelled from school before she had even started.

Next were her other school items, the small cauldron in which she had carefully wrapped her Potions equipment up and placed into for safety. Her scales, dragon-hide gloves, parchments, a couple of folders, her quills and inks. It intrigued Iris how old fashioned the wizarding world was. Hadn't anyone progressed to the ballpoint pen? She wondered if it was purely for aesthetic reasons or whether there was a different meaning behind some of these things. At least the telescope was modern, shiny and new.

She packed her clothes and then her robes on top, keeping one set of robes out to wear once she was at school. She packed her hair brush, some navy hair ties and clips, a couple of favourite necklaces and the beautiful bracelet with the silver star charm that Granny Petunia had sent her for Christmas. Her toothbrush and other necessary (and several unnecessary things her mother bought for her) toiletries were also packed. It took no time at all for her to finish and she carefully locked her trunk. Turning to her bed, Iris packed her one set of school robes, her wand and her purse into a small bag to carry onto the bus with her. There. She was all done.

She waited impatiently for the rest of the family to get up and organised for the day, fussing with her room trying to speed up the dragging time by straightening the things on her desk and rearranging everything in her drawers.

It had been close. So close. Dudley had stewed for days after their visit to the Museum and after their argument, Iris didn’t dare bring things up again for fear asking too soon would cause her father to snap and just refuse for her to be able to go.

There were many sleepless nights, for Iris and her parents. There were many quiet conversations behind closed doors. Iris tucked herself away to cry by herself where her parents couldn’t see.

Eventually, days later, Dudley had cleared his throat at breakfast and Iris couldn’t help but turn her face to him, hope shining from her face. Dudley’s expression worked and finally, he had said yes. She could attend Nyambi.

Iris barely heard the stipulations as she leapt from her seat and hugged her father furiously. She could barely form a coherent sentence and certainly didn’t hear much more than “…safe.” from her father. All that mattered in that moment, was that he had said yes.

Finally, she heard her family stirring and reluctantly turned off her smartphone and stowed it in a drawer. Mr Daku (as she now had to call him) had explained at the orientation that electronics were forbidden at Nyambi, because the magical interference meant they wouldn't work and it often damaged them completely. She was sad to lose this connection with her friends from her old school at St Stephens, but excited to make new ones at Nyambi. She towed her trunk out to the dining room, huffing and puffing and straining under its weight.

Taj spent the morning whining that he still had to attend St Stephens for another two years and couldn't go to Nyambi with his sister and couldn't even tell anyone about it. Iris wished she knew a spell that could seal his mouth shut, he was getting on her nerves.

"Taj Amir Dursley! If you breathe one word, just one solitary word, to anyone about anything to do with this magic business, I will ground you until next Christmas!" Nadia Dursley flared up like an angry dragon. Taj froze mid-sentence and nodded dumbly. He stopped complaining after that to everyone's relief.

They all knew the cover story, and Iris had already explained to her muggo friends Rachel and Stacey that she had been accepted by a school for gifted children, into their special science program. When pressed to say what school and where, Iris simply told them it was a boarding school a long way away and she wouldn't be back until the Easter holidays. She was casual and evasive enough that the other girls soon moved the conversation on to other topics. Iris knew she would miss them.

The morning dragged on but at long last, it was time to get in the car and head to the big bus terminal in the city. Dudley puffed and struggled with the weight of Iris' full trunk but manhandled it into the boot of the car where it only just fit. "Goodness knows what we'll do when there's two trunks." Nadia commented.

Iris managed to pass the time during the car ride playing a game of I Spy with Taj, her excitement mounting. When they arrived at the bus terminal, she realised that there was a huge ball of anxiety sitting in her stomach as well.

The terminal was busy, full of cars and people, Dudley had to spend a good few minutes looking for somewhere to park. Finally, they were winding their way through the carpark toward the open platforms. Platform 1 was closest to the carpark, Platform 2 on the other side.

"What was the Platform number?" Dudley asked, confused. "2 and a half?"

"Yes, Dad." Iris answered, having memorised her bus ticket that her parents had been given once they'd signed her up for Nyambi at the Orientation.

"Well, where is it?" he blustered, looking from one to the other. Iris glanced around, unsure. The bus would be leaving in only fifteen minutes and she didn't want to take the risk of being left behind or she'd never find her way to her new school.

"Er…" she looked around trying to find anyone that may look as though they belonged to Nyambi as well. Or anyone she had met at the Orientation. Anyone at all who could help them. She clearly saw the train platform, and the two bus platforms 1 and 2. But no sign whatsoever of Platform 2 and ½.

"Where did cousin Harry go to get to his school train?" she asked her father while still looking around for help. People were everywhere, queuing to get onto busses, waiting for the train and towing luggage behind them.

"Don't know." Her father repeated absently, "We never saw it. Just dropped him off and picked him up from King's Cross Station in London."

"Well I for one would have thought that we would have received a little more information for this bus." Nadia began huffily, "How they expect us to find it on the first time without so much as a sign I don't know…"

"Look!" Taj said suddenly. "I saw somebody with an owl walk through a wall." He said loudly. Several people nearby turned to stare at him but most paid him no attention whatsoever.

"Hush! Shhhh Taj." Nadia quietened him down. "Where, my dearest? Tell me quietly."

"Just there, Mum!" Taj pointed a finger toward the spot, to a piece of unremarkable wall of the main building. There was nothing there but a row of steel seats currently occupied by a a single drab gentleman reading a newspaper. Everyone looked at the place where Taj pointed but saw nothing to indicate that there was any magical way through to the Platform. Just as Iris was about to express her doubts, the old gentleman glanced up over his newspaper and winked at her.

"It's Mr Daku! Come on." she exclaimed, and led her family across the bus station toward the wizard, weaving in and out of the muggos to reach the old man. As she got closer, she saw his blue-streaked beard clearly but it seemed nobody else noticed anything odd about him.

"Good morning, Miss Dursley. Master and Mr Dursley, Mrs Dursley." The cheerful teacher greeted them with a grin. He tipped his head to the patch of wall beside him. "Go on through, it's clear."

"Er, what. Just walk into a wall?" Dudley asked.

"That's right. It's an illusion. The way through will seal themselves again at eleven to prevent any chance of muggos stepping through accidentally, though you will be able to get back easily once you've seen Iris off." He explained. "Now off you go, so you're not late!" he said and turned back to his paper which Iris couldn't help notice was called 'The Bush Telegraph'.

Squaring her shoulders, Iris walked forward with determination. Right as she braced herself for impact and raised her spare hand to protect her face, she was suddenly through. It was as though she had walked through a doorway with nothing at all to obstruct her passage. She glanced behind her, seeing what appeared to be a solid wall.

So weird. she thought to herself. Just like at London Court, she was in a new place, a new platform with a big shiny sign above saying "Platform 2 & ½ - Nyambi School Bus.

Before her, the platform was just as crowded as the muggo one, and an old-fashioned lime-green bus was pulled up beside it. Her parents bumped into her from behind as they also stepped onto the platform and Taj gasped in delight. Iris wondered how on earth all the students would fit on the bus. She estimated there to be several hundred students crowding around, and more waving from the bus windows already on board yet the bus itself looked like it could seat maybe fifty people. Iris supposed there were other buses for the students that had not arrived yet.

There was a uniformed man with a peaked cap helping students load their trunks into the luggage compartment of the bus. A group of teenagers were climbing the two steps into the bus, laughing among themselves. Families stood dotted all over the platform, waving to their children who hung out of the windows waving back or hugging students goodbye before they too got onto the bus.

Younger siblings darted around in-between the adults, racing up and down. People were dressed in everything from plain ordinary clothing, to bright wizarding robes, to strange outfits that Iris and her family couldn't even guess at their origins. One boy was holding a box and several of his friends gathered around him, the girls squealing as he opened the lid and the boys sniggering at their discomfort.

A set of identical triplet girls with long blonde hair walked past Iris having just come through the wall behind her, towing identical trunks behind them, each with what the Dursley's assumed was their own name emblazoned on the side, Adina, Sabina and Jane. A boy with skin as black as ebony and the tips of his hair dyed bright red bumped knuckles with another boy who wore his school robes already in friendly greeting.

Many of the kids had pets, owls in cages or small lizards in carriers. One boy had a brightly coloured parrot on his shoulder and several girls had Popgliders peeping out of the top pockets of their shirts. Iris had desperately wanted one for a pet once she had seen them in a shop in Rocky Road. They were tiny, adorable little marsupials that looked just like sugar gliders, only they were able to magically pop from place to place. It reminded her of when Mr Daku had magically vanished himself from their living room. Iris' mother would not allow it, an owl was quite enough to be going on with, she'd said.

"I don't see the Rothschilds anywhere." Nadia murmured. Iris too, was looking for Arin but the family were nowhere to be found.

"I'm not surprised, in this lot." Dudley answered, indicating the busy crowd before them.

"Last call for luggage!" The man by the bus man cupped his hands and shouted above the noise. "Last call for luggage for the Nyambi bus!" he hollered.

Dudley helped carry Iris' trunk to him. "Put it down there please." He told them, "And say your goodbyes. The bus leaves in five minutes!" They put the trunk down among the hundreds of others and Iris hugged each member of her family.

"I'll write to you!" she said, "I will write every week and tell you all about it!"

"Our new owl will bring the letters!" Taj said.

"Still not chosen a name, Taj?" Nadia asked her son. Taj had been given the honour of coming up with a name for their family owl, though he hadn't yet decided on one he liked.

"We can't wait to read all about it." Nadia turned to her daughter and hugged her tightly. "Work hard and keep out of trouble."

"I can't wait until I can come, too!" Taj said, squeezing his sister hard. Iris pulled out of his hug laughing and rubbing her ribs. Then she looked to her father and her face fell. Iris screwed up her courage as she faced Dudley. A worried crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"You're not… you're not disappointed in me, are you Dad?" she asked him quietly. Dudley stared at her for a long moment. Then he bent forward and enveloped her in a huge bear hug just like he used to when she was little.

"Disappointed? No honey, I am not disappointed in you. I am afraid for you, but not disappointed." He told her and kissed the top of her head. Iris felt her eyes well up a little. One thing she'd truly feared after the little she had learned about her father's experience with the wizarding world was that he would be angry or disappointed in her for being magical and going to Nyambi. It was a relief to know that this wasn't the case at all.

"All aboooaaarrdd!" the unformed man cried and Iris was surprised to see all the luggage was already packed away and the compartment closed up already.

"Go on then. Have fun!" Dudley told her. Iris grinned and hugged him again, then scampered over to the line of students getting on the bus. She waved at her parents as she stepped up into the bus and then lost sight of them among the crowd of families.

Despite its rather ordinary (if somewhat garish) outward appearance, Iris was thrilled to see that the inside of the bus stretched on and on, and was far wider than it appeared to be on the outside. Instead of the standard rows of small seats that she was expecting, she saw comfortable looking booths with well padded, high-backed benches either side of a small central table all the way down the length of the bus with a wide walk-way between. Each booth easily sat four people, though she noticed some groups of friends and squeezed in an extra person or two without too much trouble.

Dusty chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, the carpeted floor was a dark green and stretched on down the length of the bus, and there were shining brass racks above each both for students to put smaller bags, boxes or other knick-knacks in for easy storage. The inside of this bus was at least as big as a Boeing 747. She could even see a spiral staircase going up into the ceiling to a second floor, with two older teenagers climbing them at that moment.

Everything was in various shades of green except the staircase which was a polished brass. Iris followed the flow of students down the length of the enormous bus, past the spiral stairs (which had a 'Prefects Only' sign on it) and onward, looking for somewhere to sit.

She spotted several of the other muggle-borns she had met at the Orientation, but their booths were already full so she merely waved to them when they recognised her and moved on. Finally, down near the back she found a booth with only one other occupant so far.

"Hey Arin!" Iris greeted the other student cheerily, "I was looking for you!" she slid into one of the window seats opposite, settling comfortably into the high-backed bench. She placed her small bag on the bench beside her

"Hullo, glad you found me!" Arin replied with a happy smile. "We're finally on the way! I'm so excited."

"Me too," Iris replied, eyes alight. "I can't wait to see Nyambi House."

"Hey! OK if we sit here?" a voice interrupted and Iris looked up to see a girl and a boy standing beside them. "Everywhere else is full."

"Yeah sure." Arin invited them, gesturing toward the empty spots on in their booth and the boy slid in next to Arin and Iris quickly moved her bag so the girl could sit beside her. Before they could introduce themselves, the driver's voice echoed throughout the bus, everyone hushed immediately to listen.

"Alright you kids. The bus to Nyambi is about to leave." He paused as there were loud cheers from most of the students. "Yeah, yeah." The driver said. "Now don't forget, the dunnies are up the back, the top windows can be opened, and once we're underway you can move about as you like." he began. It was clear from his bored tone, he repeated this spiel every year.

"No magic on the bus, I am looking at you Josiah Rashbottle, and so help me if I catch anyone vandalizing my bus or fighting, they will find themselves walking to school. Miss Norbet will be coming past with the food trolley at 12:30 and again at 2:30. We will arrive at Woop Woop and Nyambi gates for 5pm."

"Please keep your pets with you at all times, if they get lost don't come crying to me." He finished and with that, then moments later there was a shudder as the engines sputtered to life. Finally the bus pulled away from the platform and their journey to school began.

"Woop Woop?" Iris asked, laughing.

"The small wizarding town. Only completely wizarding town in Australia, no muggos live there." the girl beside Iris explained quickly.

"So hello, I'm Fae Harper, and this is my cousin Eddie Fishase." She introduced herself and the boy.

"Iris Dursley." She responded, shaking their hands by turn. "Dursley? Say, you aren't related to Harry Potter, are you?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, sure am." Iris replied.

"You never told me that!" Arin's face lit up. "What's he like?"

"Well, I only met him a few times, when I was little. He's nice, and his wife Ginny is nice too. But I don't remember them much." Iris replied.

"Wow, I wish we were related to somebody famous." Eddie replied. "All we have are a family full of Ministry under-dogs and an Auror or two.

"Auror?" Iris asked.

"Dark wizard catcher." Arin answered, "Like a police force for wizards."

"Your mum was famous too, wasn't she?" Iris suddenly remembered the exchange between Arin's parents when Taj had spotted the broomstick that day in Rocky Road.

"Yeah," Arin shrugged, blushing. "Jennifer Adams, she..."

"Jennifer Adams?" Eddie cried loudly in sudden excitement. "She's your mother? No way!" his whole face lit up with excitement. Arin blushed deeper and shrugged awkwardly. Clearly the spotlight wasn't something Arin felt comfortable in. "She's only the best Chaser the Thunderlerra Thunderers ever had and she dominated the AQL awards three years running!"

"Oh no don't get him started!" Fae moaned. "He'll go on and on about Quidditch for the entire trip to school."

"So, you two are both from wizarding families?" Iris interrupted quickly, and Arin shot her a grateful look.

"Oh yeah, our mums are sisters. My Dad and Fae’s Mama are magical too, and all our families are." Eddie said.

"Except for Uncle Larry who's a Squib but we don't really see him all that much." he added thoughtfully.

"Squib?" Iris asked.

"Non magical child of magical parents." Fae clarified. "Sometimes families throw them up now again, just like muggo families have wizarding kids..."

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted when a shadow fell over their table. Iris looked up to see the dark-haired girl she'd seen in Rosier's Wands standing by them with another boy and girl flanking her.

"Sullying your family names there, Fishace? Harper? Slumming with dilutes now?" the dark haired girl sneered at Eddie and Fae. Her two friends smirked beside her.

"Bugger off, Kendra." Eddie rolled his eyes. "Nobody cares about your blood status garbage."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Kendra snapped in reply, "I hear that Jasper's father was demoted last week for marrying a muggo. You might want to watch who you associate with, in case your father has a similar problem."

"He wasn't demoted for getting married, you idiot." Fae replied coolly, "He was transferred to a new department that he's wanted to work in for ages."

"Like anyone of worth would want to work in Muggo Relations." the girl beside Kendra rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, being shipped off to Muggo Relations is a demotion." the boy laughed. "It's as low as you can go besides the cleaning staff."

"My parents are muggos." Iris said defiantly, glaring at the trio.

Kendra looked her up and down, mouth quirking with scorn. "That," she snorted, "Is nothing to be proud of." Kendra turned from her dismissively. Iris' cheeks burned and she stood up quickly, heartbeat thundering in her ears.

"Take that back!" she spat. Fae grabbed Iris' arm, trying to tug her back onto her seat but Iris snatched her arm away. She wanted to face Kendra directly but Fae was blocking her way and wouldn't move from her seat.

"Problem?" a voice interjected with cool authority. They all looked around to see an older girl with masses of black wavy hair and a shiny Prefect badge on the front of her Nyambi robes stride up to the group.

"No. Just saying hello." Kendra shrugged with indifference. The older girl put her hands on her hips, glancing from Kendra to Iris and back again.

"You've said it, now back to your seat." the girl told her. Kendra and her two friends turned and sauntered away down the bus.

Iris finally let Fae tug her back into her seat.

"C'mon Ed!" the girl turned on Eddie. "We haven't even left Perth and you guys are picking fights already?"

"Me!" Eddie protested indignantly. "I didn't do anything! It was Iris wanting a showdown." he gestured to Iris and the older girl turned her glare on her.

"She insulted my family." Iris defended herself. "I don't even know her and she came over picking at us. We didn't even talk to her first or anything."

"Iris, my sister and school prefect, Sarissa Fishase. Sarissa, Iris Dursley." Ed made a quick introduction.

"Learn to mind your temper, eh?" Sarissa suggested. "Keep out of trouble, you mob." and she turned and moved off down the bus. Iris heard her snap at a couple of boys further along who were running down the aisle.

"What is her problem?" Iris asked, "Kendra's, not your sister's." she clarified quickly.

"Kendra can't help herself - her whole family are blood purists and she's had her head stuffed with pureblood rubbish since she was born." Fae tried to sooth her. "Don't worry about it, she'll get too busy at school with classes and her housemates to bother us much."

"Yeah, her Dad is on the Pureblood Council 'cause he's a Gaunt and they're an old family." Ed agreed, "So she just repeats whatever daddy-dearest tells her. Don't worry about it."

"Mind you," he continued thoughtfully, "This is going to be the most interesting year."

"What do you mean?" Iris asked him.

"Well, we have the child of a famous Quidditch player." he began, nodding at Arin. "And Harry Potter's cousin," he nodded at Iris, "And bloody Voldemort’s cousin too!”

Chapter Text

"Is she really?" Arin asked, incredulously. "How do you know?"

"Well, Kendra isn't exactly shy as you may have noticed." Fae replied, "We have met her before at the Ministry offices when we've gone to work with our parents. She was more than happy to brag to anyone who would listen that her Great Grandfather Corben Gaunt was Voldemort's Grandfather's brother. That makes Kendra's father a first cousin and Kendra a second cousin."

"Or is it first cousin once removed?" Eddie wondered.

"So she's just saying that. There's no proof." Arin replied dismissively.

"There are no other Gaunts." Fae answered. "Kendra is the last one. So that makes her a big deal with the blood purists and doesn't she know it! She has to be telling truth."

"No wonder she's such a nasty piece of work if Voldemort's her cousin." Eddie grumbled.

Who's that?" Iris asked, curiously.

Fae and Eddie were both more than happy to fill Iris in on the epic story of how her famous cousin, Harry Potter, defeated one of the evillest wizards in wizarding history. It took quite some time, and Iris was enthralled. As they spoke, the bus finally left the city behind it and headed south, through acres of dry farmland dotted with trees, cattle and the occasional horse.

They paused their discussion when the lunch trolley came around, a sweet natured old witch pushing it along the bus aisle. Iris was keen to eat, she was famished. Instead of the meat pies, sausage rolls and curried-egg sandwiches she had half expected, she found the trolley laden with things like pumpkin pasties, turkey-and-cheese balls and roasted beetroot kebabs. She was also delighted to find the sweet treats were equally as interesting, from the chocolate koalas that would climb and hold your finger until you ate them to the Bertie Bots Every Flavour Beans which truly came in every flavour.

She particularly enjoyed the Gobstoppers that actually got larger as you sucked them, until they were so large you couldn't even open your mouth wide enough to spit them out before they suddenly vanished, leaving your mouth tingling with flavour. She had some wizarding money in her pocket which her parents had given to her to take to school and bought a variety of treats from the trolley.

Eddie took up the story again as they ate and both Fae and Arin supplied little details they knew. By the time they'd finished telling her all about Harry Potter's defeat of the Dark Lord, it was long past afternoon tea time and the shadows were beginning to lengthen.

The atmosphere on the bus was electric and people were getting wilder and more excited around them. Students ran up and down the aisle and switched seats often to talk to various friends. Sarissa walked by a few times, as did her fellow Prefects trying to keep some sort of order.

Iris looked out of the window to see they were now on a narrow, coastal road that wound its way around the hills, the ocean coming into view now and again and acres of low scrubby bushes spread as far as the eye could see.

"We're nearly there." Fae said, her face alight with excitement. "Let’s get our robes on." and the four of them scrambled up and reached for their bags. They'd just pulled their lightweight robes over their heads and were straightening them and doing up their buttons when the bus driver announced they had reached the town of Woop Woop, and would be arriving at Nyambi very shortly.

Iris once again gazed out of the windows to see the low scrubby bushes giving way to an increasing number of trees and the occasional tin-roofed house. Soon they were right in town, and they were passing the oddest of homes. Some were very old fashioned, built of stone with tiny porches and neat gardens. Some houses were monstrosities of tin and brick, windows in odd places and one didn't even have a visible door.

One huge barn-like house had a platform built onto its second story. Eddie explained that it was a broomstick landing pad. Some were tiny cottages, some looked like almost ordinary homes. Some had neat garden beds, and some had wild, overgrown yards. Some had animal skulls and strange nets filled with bizarre objects hanging from the front verandas and one didn't even have a house, simply a mound of overgrown earth with a door in it leading to who-knew-what kind of underground dwelling.

As the bus rolled through the main street, Iris noted shopfronts just like the ones she'd seen in historical movies about little outback towns. Mostly pokey little buildings, each with a veranda and a weathered looking sign. A couple were quite brightly painted and had symbols painted in the front windows.

Looking further ahead, Iris could see a large hill just on the outskirts of town, which rose sharply and towered over the township. It looked as though the hill ended in a cliff that dropped to the azure blue ocean below. Atop the hill, nestled among a few trees, bushes and a handful out outbuildings was an enormous house that Iris guessed to be Nyambi school itself.

A huge, towering gumtree grew so close to the house, its canopy reaching far above the (at least) three story building. Iris felt the excitement in her stomach do a flop as the bus turned and began trundling up the hill on a narrow, winding dusty road.

When the bus stopped, everyone got up at once and began pulling down bags, catching pets and shuffling their way down the aisle to disembark. One or two older kids elbowed their way to the front.

One older boy roughly shoved his way through a pair of girls to get ahead of them in the queue, but regretted it at once when one of them drew her wand and muttered something under her breath. The boy at once froze in place, one foot in front of the other and a couple of people laughed as they edged their way around him. Iris noticed his eyes swivelling back and forth helplessly in his motionless face as the girls continued their way without a backward glance.

Once off the bus, Iris found herself standing among the hundreds of other students on a steep, dry grassy hillside overlooking the ocean behind them. An old, wide flight of stone steps continued up the steep hill before them.

"Don't worry about your trunks and things." Sarissa told a few younger students who had moved toward the storage compartment of the bus, "They get taken up separately."

Older students were already clambering up the steps chattering and laughing. Iris and the others followed with enthusiasm, excited to see what lay at the top. The steps were quite steep which left them all breathless and sweating by the time they got to the top.

Standing waiting to greet them was a stern looking witch with square spectacles, iron grey hair and smart navy robes. Ms Brocklehurst, their headmistress. Iris recognised her at once from the Orientation a few days before.

The older students greeted her as they passed, and the old witch nodded at them in return as they passed. She did smile on occasion, but she certainly didn't appear to be a particularly cheerful sort, unlike Mr Daku. Ms Brocklehurst turned her knowing, dark eyes on the Year 7 students who began to cluster uncertainly around her.

"Year 7's." she announced as the older students trailed away, "Welcome to Nyambi House." and she swept an arm toward the building before them. The students now stood on a large, rolling lawn, the hill dropping away behind them. Before them and across the lawn were a last, short flight of steps up onto the wide, sweeping veranda of a huge house. Iris only thought it was a house because it wasn't quite grand enough to be called a mansion.

The huge building before them had large double doors now flung wide as students streamed inside. The windows were all huge, giving the massive place a very welcoming feel. The bushes and lawns around it were perfectly manicured and the walls were built of a dark reddish stone. It had a second and third stories nestled far above them. the house stretched for hundreds of meters in either direction, Iris couldn't see most of it as gardens and trees obscured much of the building further along.

The insanely huge, towering gumtree they had seen on the approach looked even more impossibly tall from here and Iris was absolutely astonished to realise that the tree was actually growing right out of the school roof!

At that moment, the boy who'd been jinxed and frozen in place on the bus hurried past them, trying to avoid Ms Brocklehurst's eye. She glared at him momentarily as he scuttled by but didn't say anything.

"Please follow me. You are to first be sorted into your House and then the start of term feast will begin." the Headmistress told them. She turned on her heel and strode away. The Year 7's hurried to keep up with her, all much too nervous to speak or to lag behind. They crossed the lawn and climbed the steps, most looking awed as they crossed the wide veranda and in through the wide double doors.

Inside, the entryway was a huge and sprawling room, plenty large enough for the entire year 7 cohort to stand in comfortably. The floors were a dark, polished wood, covered in the dusty footprints of the students who had come in ahead of them. Directly in front of them at the end of the entryway, two large staircases wrapped around the walls, twisting and turning up out of sight. The ceiling was high, and dark beams supported the chandelier above their heads.

Iris noticed a large fireplace, with strange pale blue and white flames crackling in the grate. A draft of cool air from the cold blue flames flowed over them, a relief from the lingering heat outside. Ahead, underneath the two staircases were another set of large double doors which were shut. To the left and right, more doors but propped open, offering a limited view of the passageways beyond.

Ms Brocklehurst turned and faced the group who all stopped immediately and gathered around. Iris could hear the noise of a crowd beyond the doors ahead of them and guessed that was where the rest of the students were.

"Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Nyambi School of Enchantment." she began, "We are all very pleased that you've joined us and we expect that each and every one of you will be an asset to our school. Here in the Entryway, you will notice that we keep the House scoreboard." she pointed upward and the students raised their eyes to see a large polished board hung on the wall high above them. There were four names etched in gleaming brass plaques on the board; Uluru, Kakadu, Wollumbin and Arnhem. Under each plaque was an empty column.

"While you are here, your House will be like your family. You will work together, eat together and your efforts will earn House points which will be recorded on the board. Should you break school rules or display poor behaviour, points will be detracted from your House score. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup." Ms Brocklehurst explained.

The stern, iron-grey haired witch then gave them all a warm, kind smile. “I am so glad to be the first to welcome you all to Nyambi School of Enchantment. I very much hope your enjoy your time with us.”

We will begin the sorting momentarily. Please follow me." she told them before turning and pushing open the large double doors ahead of her. The noise beyond hushed a little as they entered the huge room beyond. Iris and the other students found themselves walking between 4 rows of long benches in a great, high-ceiling Hall. There were several fireplaces either side, each filled with the cold blue flames to cool the room. The older students were already seated and watching them with interest. One or two waved or gave thumbs up to younger siblings in the Year 7 group.

The enormous trunk of the monstrous tree that grew out of the school dominated the Hall. Only half, if that, of it was even visible. It seemed the actual back wall of the Hall had been built around the trunk, so Iris supposed the rest of it could be seen from whatever room or rooms were on the other side.

Gazing up, the huge tree rose through the room and continued up, out of a large round hole carefully built to accommodate it in the ceiling and up into the night.

Above each bench hung a large banner, each a different colour and showing a different silhouette. One showed a wedge-tailed eagle on a red banner lined with black trim, emblazoned with the word 'Uluru'. The next, an emu on a blue banner lined with silver which carried the word 'Kakadu'. A green banner lined with gold showed a kangaroo and the word 'Wollumbin' and the last banner showed a trotting dingo on a yellow background lined with brown which showed the word 'Arnhem'. Iris noticed that students sitting on the benches already had corresponding colours on the lining of their robes.

Ms Brocklehurst had the Year 7 group split in half, each turning to face the rest of the chattering students on the benches and the doors they had entered through. The Year 7's were directed to stand either side of the hall with a large gap between the 2 groups. Behind them was the staff table on a low dais, already filled with the teachers and associated staff members. The headmistress left them then, returning to her seat behind them. One of the other teachers stood and came forward to stand between the two groups of students, a plump witch Iris didn't recognise.

"Quiet please! It is time to begin the sorting!" she announced in a high but carrying voice. A hush fell over the Hall immediately and all eyes turned to the friendly looking teacher. Once silence fell, she continued – every person in the room easily able to hear her;

“I would like to begin by acknowledging the Traditional Owners and Custodians of the land on which we meet today, the Noongar of the Bibbulmun, and pay my respects to their Elders past and present, as well as to emerging leaders. I extend that respect to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples here today. Always was, always will be, Aboriginal land.”

She unrolled a parchment and said "As I call your name, please come and stand in the Sorting Circle."

It was only then that Iris noticed the large circle that appeared to be burned into the wooden floorboards between the two groups of new students, right at the new teacher's feet. She barely had time to consider the strange but beautiful symbols within the circle before the first name was called.

"Arif, Mohammed!" the Professor called, and a short boy with dark hair hurried forward and hesitated only a moment before stepping into the circle. Nothing seemed to happen but the boy stared about himself in surprise. He looked around at something the rest could not see for a few moments, before the blue banner glowed brightly, showing which house he had been selected for. The older students on the bench below the Kakadu banner cheered and clapped loudly as the boy looked round at the teacher who urged him to join his new house with a nod and a gesture.

"Asten, Marcus!" she called, and the next boy stepped forward. The sorting was fairly rapid, usually a student stood in the sorting circle only a few short moments before one of the banners lit up. Marcus was quickly sorted into Wollumbin and 'Belcam, Frances' was sorted into Kakadu as well. 'Charles, Sonya' became the first Wollumbin student, and 'Dance, Kevin' soon became an Arnhem. Each time a banner lit up for a student, the older ones already sitting there cheered and applauded their newest member.

"Dursley, Iris!" When her own name was called, she started. Feeling the eyes of the entire school on her, Iris stumbled forward numbly and walked toward the circle. She noticed a few students widen their eyes and begin to whisper to one another. Hesitantly she stepped into the circle.

She didn't have to wait. Immediately, the symbols on the floor began to glow and lift up into their air around her. Iris was wide-eyed with surprise, understanding now what the other Year 7's had seen that she had not until this moment. The symbols were as substantial as smoke, and glowed as they began to swirl around her. She heard something like whispers, on the very edge of hearing. She felt as though if she could only listen more carefully, she would understand what they were saying but no matter how hard she strained her ears, she just couldn't quite make them out.

The symbols whirled faster and faster, picking up speed rapidly. They spun around her closing in, until suddenly they all shot off across the room in a stream and appeared to be sucked into one of the banners which glowed brightly, calling her to her new house. Uluru.

The other students in Uluru House clapped and cheered for her as she made her way across to the far side of the hall and found an empty spot on the bench. Sarissa, Eddie's sister nodded to her in greeting though Iris felt that Sarissa was somewhat reserved. A grinning girl with red hair and a constellation of freckles shook her hand cheerily and the others smiled in greeting. Quickly, Iris returned her gaze to the front of the room to watch the rest of the sorting.

"Dunstan, Velia" was also sorted into Uluru and Iris watched Velia looking at the symbols none but she could see. Velia quickly hurried to their table and settled onto the bench across from Iris. "Eagle, James." became the newest Wollumbin and "Fishace, Edgar" was sorted into Kakadu. Iris was excited when both Fae and Arin were sorted into Uluru with her, she was glad to have her new friends with her.

There was a susurration around the seated students when “Ihaka, Hugo.” was called up, and a grinning boy sauntered up clearly enjoying being a spectacle. After a flash of his pale blue eyes and ice-white hair, Iris realised he was what her mother would have called an albino.

The other name to cause a reaction in the Hall was when “Gaunt, Kendra.” Was called up. Clearly the Gaunt name was very well known within the wizarding world, which considering what Iris had learned about Kendra’s father that morning – didn’t surprise her. Kendra swaggered up to the sorting circle like she was a celebrity and Iris rolled her eyes.

It was a shame that Eddie was in a different House, she felt. She did notice that Sarissa seemed very surprised that her younger brother was in a different House to herself. Kendra, she was very glad to say was sorted into Arnhem, which not only meant she was in a different house, she also sat on the far side of the room with her new House which was a relief.

The sorting took some time, with a hundred or so new students taking their turns in the sorting circle. As the sorting continued, Iris took the opportunity to look around the huge dining hall. The ceiling was high, with exposed beams. She gazed, fascinated at the glowing orbs floating along the ceiling providing the room with additional light. They slowly moved around, never touching anything – not even one another. She wanted to ask what they were but nobody else was talking, or even whispering during the sorting ceremony and she didn’t dare be the first.

The high walls were decked with paintings. Which moved! Iris blinked in surprise as the one across the hall of a wizard that seemed to be watching the sorting with interest, took out a hanky and blew his nose. This made her look to all of the other paintings she could see, in turn. Even twisting in her seat to squint up at the ones on the closest wall above her. They all moved, and she watched them in fascination for the remainder of the sorting. She was so excited to see that it looked like all paintings moved in the magical world moved and possibly spoke. She couldn’t wait to find out.

Slowly, the trickle of students thinned as the sorting neared its end. Finally, "Ziam, Aaliya." was sorted into Arnhem as well, and the sorting was complete. The teacher calling the names rolled up her parchment and went back to her place at the teacher's table.

Ms Brocklehurst stood up, and looked around the room which became silent again at once.

"Congratulations, students on being sorted to your new Houses. You have been selected by the impartial Sorting Circle which places you in the House that will best assist you to blossom at Nyambi. We trust that you will find friends and a sense of pride in your new House. Before we eat however, I have a couple of start-of-year announcements for you." she said, her voice carrying to the far ends of the Hall easily.

"Students will please note, that they are required to remain within school grounds at all times." her eye fell on a grinning boy sitting a few seats along from Iris when she said this. "This means, within the fence only. You will note that the ocean, the caves and the bushland are all beyond the fence, and are considered out of school grounds." she clarified pointedly.

"Our school groundskeeper, Mr Jirra," and here the Professor nodded to a tall, skinny man with muggle-looking outfit of boots, shorts and an old blue flannelette shirt, "Wishes to remind you all that any items left discarded in the gardens will be confiscated. He would also like to remind students to keep away from the Shadehouses and Greenhouses unless in class due to the new Whitecap Snakeroots that have arrived over the break, which are quite dangerous in careless hands." she warned.

"Your new timetables will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow morning, and notices about Quidditch trials and club memberships will go up by the end of next week." Ms Brocklehurst continued.

"Now, that’s quite enough talking from me, let us enjoy our wonderful feast!" she finished and clapped her hands twice. Two doors, one either side of the room opened at once and a stream of plates and platters containing the most amazing food flew gently through the air, arranging themselves neatly on the tables before them. The noise level went up at once and students began chattering excitedly, and loudly.

Reaching for a platter ahead of her, Iris selected a piece of chicken as Fae did the same. She soon filled her plate with a number of delicious foods from baked potatoes, to a scoop of some kind of curry, some fried rice and a boiled egg. She made the decision to try one of the interesting-smelling cooked vegetables of a kind she didn't recognise, next.

She opened her mouth to ask a question but Fae beat her to it.

"You’re not imagining things; the paintings do move. Professional wizarding artists are rare and pretty famous as it takes forever to gain the skills to pain that well and learn how to give it a personality and ability to move." Fae explained. "That answer your question?"

"Yes." Iris grinned before wolfing down a mouthful of rice. She asked a few more questions even so, fascinated to hear about how paintings actually have personalities in the wizarding world and can talk as well as move. Fae didn’t understand a lot about it but shared what she did know.

"Photographs move, too" the red haired, freckled girl the other side of Iris interrupted them. "They don’t talk, though."

"Brianna Fraser." she introduced herself, "Year 9. And this questionable specimen is Josiah Rashbottle." she stuck a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the dark haired boy the other side of her who was deep in conversation with an annoyed looking girl with thick frizzy hair sitting across the table. The girls and Arin introduced themselves, and began including Brianna in their conversation.

Soon, talk turned to their parents and family life. Brianna proudly announced she and her twin sister (Arnhem) were the youngest of four. They had two older brothers sitting further up the Uluru table. They were half-blood with their mother being a muggo.

By this time Josiah had turned to their conversation as well and said that both his parents were wizards, but he was adopted and didn't know his birth parents. The girl with the frizzy hair across from him who was seated beside Sarissa introduced herself as Aleasha Nesbit, muggleborn and now in Year 9 also.

"My father is a wizard, Mama is a muggo." another Year 7 named Kaushal Anand who sat the other side of Fae interjected. "You should have heard Mama scream when he told her and showed her magic the first time." he chuckled. The others laughed with him, Iris remembering her own mother's reaction when Mr Daku had turned their coffee table into a wombat.

“How about you, Velia is it?” Fae turned to the small, quiet girl who hadn’t spoken at all yet. She kept her eyes on her plate and shrugged. They waited for her to reply and just as they were about to move on in the discussion, Velia responded almost in a whisper.

"My parents were both magical." Iris eyed her curiously but the other girl didn’t supply any more information.

When they had all eaten their fill, the plates containing the leftovers once more lifted magically into the air and swept in line back through the side doors of the hall. Moments later, platters full of deserts appeared through the doors and settled onto the tables before them. Iris and the other students gazed at it all with wonder, as the older ones began helping themselves to slices of cake, scoops of many flavoured icecreams and bowls of quivering of jelly.

Finally, when Iris felt she couldn't possibly eat another bite, Ms Brocklehurst stood and announced that it was time to wash up and go to bed. The remains of the feast vanished through the side doors and the student body stood to make way to their dorms.

"Year 7's, with me please!" Sarissa called. A boy with shoulder-length hair and surprisingly dark eyes was also calling for the Year 7's from their table. Iris supposed he must be the other Uluru Prefect. The Year 7's gathered together around Sarissa and the boy, who then led them from the Hall, turned left in the Entryway and headed briskly up the staircase nearest the Hall doors and then down a long corridor lined with large windows on one side, and moving portraits on the other.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 – Handsome Bertie

Iris was fascinated by the moving paintings along the corridor, too. A pretty witch painted into a lovely garden background waved smilingly as they passed, a wizard in the next painting tipped his hat. Further down, a scruffy looking swagman from the turn of the century glanced up from where he was filling a chipped cup with water from a creek and scowled at the group. Iris wanted to stop and look at them all.

Sarissa and the boy who's name Iris hadn't heard led them down the long corridor behind a group of much older students, and then down another, smaller corridor to their right. This one was much shorter, and darker with much less lighting. It ended abruptly with a dead-end and the older students were nowhere in sight. Iris and the others looked around, confused. Was this some kind of practical joke?

"Now watch carefully." Sarissa commanded the younger students. "You will need to remember this to be able to get into the dorms." She turned to the blank, empty wall ahead of them, then looked up to the high ceiling above. At once the rest followed her gaze and noticed the outline of a trap door above them. Sarissa reached out with her left hand, and grasped an ornamental candleholder which she pulled firmly out and then twisted forward so the candle was parallel with the floor. She let go and the candle promptly sprung back up and into place.

At the same moment, the trap door above them slid back and a narrow spiral stair descended from above.

“This won’t work for any other student except those sorted into Uluru.” Sarissa told them. “The House won’t allow any Uluru student into any other dorms either, unless expressly invited.”

“How do you know which one to pull?” Fae asked. Sarissa glanced over at her cousin and smiled.

“If you look carefully, our candleholder has the Uluru eagle engraved on the base, here.” Sarissa pointed out the tiny etching for everyone to see. Then she and the boy began up the spiral staircase. The rest followed them, one at a time and before she knew it, Iris was climbing up into a large airy attic space behind Fae.

"This is the Uluru common room." Sarissa announced, gesturing vaguely. "You can spend time in here whenever you like for homework, socialising or just hanging out." The attic was large with the angled roof above them. There were large windows along one side, and doors along the other with short corridors visible behind one or two that were open. There was a large fireplace at one end, with the same cold blue flames flickering in the hearth that Iris had seen in most of the fireplaces here.

There were some old, somewhat threadbare couches and armchairs scattered here and there. Bookshelves and cabinets were placed along the walls, some filled with all manner of odd looking items and books with strange titles embossed on the spines. Older students were scattered around the room, chatting among themselves. A noise behind them made the Year 7's jump and hurry to one side as the trap door opened again and the spiral stair descended. Moments later, another group of students climbed up into the room.

“We get really lovely views of the eastern gardens from here during the day.” Sarissa told the Year 7’s.

“For now.” Brick added, unhelpfully. Sarissa rolled her eyes before continuing. “Ah! Iluka.” Sarissa turned to a kindly looking witch, maybe in her 50’s with jet black hair, streaked with silver.

“This is Iluka Rainwood, she’s out Uluru House Mother.” Sarissa introduced the newcomer.

“Hello everyone.” Iluka smiled, her voice warm and inviting. “It’s lovely to meet you all and I am sure I’ll get to know you each pretty soon. As House Mother, my job is to take care of anything to do with you all and your Housemates in the evenings, overnight and in the early morning. If you need anything from me at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.” she smiled around at them all.

Iris like the look of Iluka immediately. Her face was creased with smile lines, her voice warm and her face kind and welcoming.

“Yes, during the day. We’re lucky to have the attic, this will hopefully be the second year running.” Iluka continued on Sarissa’s earlier topic.

“Do not, and I mean Do. Not…” Iluka looked around at each of them in turn, driving her point home, “try to make a map of the House. It doesn’t like it. If you aren’t sure where to go, please ask a Prefect or a staff member. All of us are happy to point you in the right direction – even if it’s a Prefect not from Uluru.” She told them.

“Obviously, no boys allowed in the girl’s dorms, no girls in the boy’s. For this rule, its AFAB.” she told them all “For obvious reasons. Magic is OK in the Common Room, but don’t go too far. No hexing or jinxing fellow students and I should hope I don’t have to even tell you that cursing others at Nyambi is completely banned. Keep your mitts out of other people’s stuff which should go without saying.” She rattled off.

“Curfew to be back in your Common Room for the evening is 8pm on school nights, 10pm weekend nights. If you need to be out later for anything, you need to obtain a permission slip from the office and have a teacher sign it. Other than that, use your common sense and for the love of Merlin, if you need any help. Just ask.” Iluka continued.

Iris noted that Brick didn’t participate at all, and seemed bored with the whole thing. She wondered why he was a Prefect at all, if he didn’t seem interested in actually being one.

“Brick and I will be here in the morning to help with guiding everyone to breakfast if you need it, and to show you where your classes are.” Sarissa piped up. “Any questions?” the Year 7 group shook their heads respectfully.

"Your dorm rooms are down there. Girls with me, boys please follow Brick." Sarissa indicated the doorways off to the side of the room. The boys trailed after the other Prefect, Brick to the far end of the common room.

"Where do I go?" Arin asked. Iluka smiled kindly.

"You are bunking with Danni." she told Arin. "Right next door to Hal." and Iluka motioned an older student over who hurried to the group at once. Hal was tall and thin, with a wide grin and short-cropped blonde hair. Sarissa introduced the pair and asked Hal to show Arin to their new room.

"Absolutely!" Hal responded with enthusiasm. "This way." and Hal bounded off across the room on long legs. Hal led Arin up a tiny stair that nobody had noticed before, in the far corner of the room and through a tiny door that Hal had to duck to pass through.

Iris didn't see anything more as she was following Sarissa through a doorway close to the trap door which entered a short, narrow corridor that had 4 doors leading from it.

"Your dorm rooms are here; rooms are assigned but beds aren’t. Choose your own but if I hear any fighting, you will be reported to our Head of House, Mr Giovanni. So don't lose us any points before classes have even begun!" she glared at them do drive home her point. The girls nodded and drifted away, checking name lists that were pinned to the doors.

Fae found hers and Iris' room right away, the very first door they came to along with two other names that Iris recognised, and one she did not. Pushing open the door, Iris entered a roomy, airy loft with high sloped ceilings like that of the common room, a small enclosed wood heater stood in the centre, the ice-cold blue flames dancing behind the glass door keeping the room pleasantly cool. One large floor-to-ceiling window was on the one side of the room, the slant of the roof meaning all they could see were a billion stars.

The beds were beautiful wrought-iron four-posters with lovely heavy maroon hangings. The beds were made up neatly, piled with snowy white pillows and neatly folded towels were at the end of each. Their trunks were in the corner of the room already as were their smaller bags they'd had on the bus.

Iris flung herself on the central bed at once, the one directly across from the window. She glanced up at Fae, suddenly realising her friend may have wanted this bed.

"Do you mind?" she asked tentatively.

"Not at all!" Fae laughed, claiming the next bed over.

The other three girls entered the room behind them; Rosalie Smith whom Iris had met at the Orientation, Velia Dunstan who was still quiet and kept her eyes on the ground and another girl she didn't know. Introductions were made and Iris found the last girl was Jess Weaver, who came from a wizarding family who lived far off in the outback. The girls chose their beds and settled in quickly.

After a few minutes, there was a soft knocking at the door and Iluka popped her head around to check on them.

“Everyone alright?” she asked. The girls murmured in the affirmative. “Lovely. Lights go out at 9pm on school nights, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Once the House is in a routine, the House stays in its routine.” she chuckled.

“If anyone needs anything, anything at all – I’ll be in the Common room all night. OK?” the girls nodded and Iluka smiled. “Alright loves, sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.” She left, closing the door softly behind her.

Iris was exhausted and after a quick shower in their little bathroom, she climbed into bed and fell asleep quickly.

******

The following morning when she awoke to the sounds of Jess and Rosalie talking quietly as they dressed, Iris noticed at once that her school trunk was now at the end of her bed. Opening it with her wand, Iris hurried to dress in her school robes. Velia and Fae woke up just then, and hurried to get up and dressed. The girls all left the dorms together, and hurried down the Common room.

Iluka was already there, looking tired but cheerful. Iris supposed she would, if she’d stayed up all night in the Common Room. She greeted them all, asked their names and bid them a good day, informing them that her House Mother duties ended at 7am so she would see them that evening.

“So, anyone notice anything last night?” Jess asked, eyes sparkling.

“Notice what?” Rosalie asked.

“The House, you mean?” Fae turned to Jess, who nodded. Iris and Rosalie glanced at one another, confused.

“Not yet.” Fae shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Rosalie asked. Fae and Jess grinned at one another.

“Nyambi House is alive.” Jess said dramatically, eyes wide.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous.” Rosalie snorted.

“No, for real!” Fae added as they walked down the corridor, morning sunlight streaming down through the windows. “Everyone says so. It changes sometimes, all by itself. And always gives you what you need.”

Iris looked from Jess to Fae and back again, trying to decide if they were setting them up. Both girls were grinning, but that didn’t mean much.

“It has a never-ending supply of vegemite, sometimes it moves the classrooms to a nicer view, and people say it protects the students. Apparently if you do really well in class you’ll find a Tim Tam on your pillow, Sarissa says. Oh, and you have to remember the layout on your own – never try to map Nyambi House.” Fae warned.

“Yeah, I heard a kid tried that last year. That’s why we have the attic now, Uluru used to be on the ground floor in the west wing.” Jess added.

Iris and Rosalie exchanged glances again and the other two laughed. “We’re telling the truth!” Fae laughed, “I swear.” Iris shrugged cautiously.

“OK, but I have to see this for myself.” She replied. At that moment, a shutter dropped down over the window they were standing by, and rolled itself back up again, making the girls all jump and turn to stare at the window.

There was a heavy pause.

“Ghosts?” Rosalie asked tentatively.

“No ghosts at Nyambi,” Fae said, “It’s the House.”

Arin joined them, grinning in delight. They hurried to take a seat whilst Arin told them all about their room and new room-mate, Danni, next door to Hal which sounded to be identical to the girls' shared room, only smaller.

True to her word, Sarissa was busy but ready to help them find the main Hall for breakfast. Brick was nowhere to be seen.

Sarissa was casting some kind of spell on a couple of boys in their year. She waved the boys on as soon as she was done, and motioned for the girls and Arin to approach. With a quick swish of her wand, Sarissa turned the trim of their robes to red and their ties to black, orange and red to reflect their House colours. She dismissed them equally as quickly, turning to another small group of Year 7's and changing their robe linings and ties as well.

Once she was done, she waved the group down the trap door, and back along all the confusing rooms and corridors to the Hall.

"Oh yes, Vegemite on toast!" Rosalie exclaimed and took her seat, reaching for a steaming slice. Iris chose a bowl of mixed fruit with yogurt and drizzled a generous dollop of honey over the top. Arin practically salivated over a selection of pancakes accompanied with cream and syrup.

Whilst they ate, the Hall began to fill up and before long the entire student body was noisily breakfasting along with the staff up at their table. When they'd finished, their empty plates whisked away through the service doors as they had last night.

Suddenly there was a creaking sound from high above, and the students all looked up to see the large window at the far end of the hall opening by itself. With a rustle of feathers, owls and magpies flooded into the room. It was a very odd combination, as in the wild, both species didn’t intermingle. There were flashes of black and white, grey, brown, cream and copper as hundreds of birds swooped into the Hall.

Iris watched in awe as bird after bird streamed in through the window and began circling the room, most carrying small parcels or rolled up letters. The magpies were also swooping low, landing beside the occasional student or staff member, some landing and presenting their mail to the particular student they were delivering to, and some just dived, dropped their letters and swooped back up again.

The first thing Iris noticed was the noise level rising. The chatter from all the tables increased as people greeted what were presumably their own birds, cried out in delight at packages received or began reading letters aloud. Most of the post was delivered by owls, she noticed. A handful of the magpies had a note in their beaks or in a pouch on their legs, but not nearly as many.

To Iris’ delight, the pretty new brown owl her father had bought back in Rocky Road on Orientation Day landed neatly by her plate and stuck its leg out for her inspection. She immediately opened the small leather pouch secured to its leg and extracted a letter. She gave the owl a tentative stroke and it leaned into her hand before opening her own letter.

Dear Iris, it read.

Mum and Dad said I could send a letter right away. Write me one back and send it with Obi Wan.

Love, Taj.

Iris snorted. Trust her brother to name the bird after a favourite TV character. She decided to write a letter that afternoon, so she could tell him all about her first day of classes.

Before long, the owls had all made their deliveries and flown up, back out of the window – leaving small feathers everywhere. Iris decided it was lucky she had finished her breakfast. The magpies hung around though, darting to and fro, skipping up and down the tables or perching on people’s heads to look around.

An argument between two people further up the table caught Iris’ attention, and she and her friends turned to see what was going on. That was when Iris got her first surprise of the day.

“Bertie, I said no!” Josiah cried out, exasperated.

“Bertie, yes! Was on table.” Another voice responded with enthusiasm.

“Because I was saving it for later!” Josiah huffed.

“Bertie’s frog!” the voice replied and astonished, Iris realised it was a Magpie talking to Josiah. Not just in the funny “Hello!” and “Cocky scratch?” way that talking birds Iris had met before did, but actually carrying a conversation.

The Magpie fluffed his wings and blinked at Josiah, turning his head for a better view.

“Was on table.” He repeated.

“That’s not - !” Josiah spluttered. Some of the other students were beginning to giggle. “I bought it! It was my Chocolate Frog, and you just ate it!”

“Jo-Jo buy. Bertie eat.” Bertie responded with a nod.

A snort came from further up the table where Aleasha Nesbit was trying, not very successfully, not to grin.

“Don’t encourage him!” Josiah snapped over his shoulder. He turned back to the unrepentant bird hopping further along the table. “You’re supposed to deliver messages and behave. That’s what you’re for! Not thieving!”

Bertie seemed to puff up his chest in indignation.

“Good job!” Bertie replied.

“No! Not good job! Bad job, bad Bertie!” Josiah almost wailed in frustration.

“Good job!” Bertie said again, louder this time as though more volume would make him more correct.

“You were stealing!” Josiah accused the Magpie.

“Good job stealing!” Bertie chirped, skipping nimbly away just out of Josiah’s reach as a pre-emptive move.

Aleasha and now Iris and her friends were practically wheezing with laughter now. A few older students grinned in amusement.

Josiah’s eye twitched. “You’re absolutely useless, you know that?”

Bertie tilted his head, considering this.

“Not useless. Bertie Good! People need Bertie.”

Josiah raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, how do you figure? Why do people need you?”

“Bertie’s handsome. Handsome Bertie!” the Magpie responded confidently, stretching out his wings to show them off.

The table burst out into laughter and Josiah dropped his head into his hands in exasperation. Bertie preened.

It was then that Mr Giovanni came down to their table to hand out timetables.

“Alright, birds. Outside, now.” He told Bertie and the other nearby Magpies sternly. Bertie hopped up and down.

“Outside now! Good job! Bertie going flying!” and with that he took off in a rush of wings and together with the other Magpies, they flew up out of the window they’d entered by and disappeared from sight. The volume in the Hall noticeably lowered.

“OK, but talking magpies?” Iris swivelled to ask Fae.

“Oh yeah, they talk alright. The hard part is getting them to shut up!” she giggled. “We have one at home, Gracie. But I don’t bring her to school with me, she’s a menace!”

“The Australian Talking Magpie is supposed to be Aus’ answer to owls, but they’re hopeless! They have opinions, they’re always getting into trouble and half the time they don’t even deliver the letters half the time, because they found something more interesting to do instead.” Aleasha leaned in to tell them.

“But they’re so much fun!” Fae giggled. Josiah scowled, accepted his new school timetable and stalked off, leaving the shredded wrapper of his Chocolate Frog behind him.

“Oh! It’s a Kipper Strathwait, I don’t have that one yet.” Aleasha grabbed a card peeking out of the wrapper and turned away. Fae quickly explained the concept of Chocolate Frog cards, and their collectability as they went over their Timetables together.

Iris discovered she had History Of Magic first that morning, followed by Potions, then morning break and double Transfiguration before lunch. The day finished with Charms and Defensive Magic.

She and the others got up and headed back to their dorms to get their belongings, keen to start their first class of the day.

Iris and the other girls hurried to clean their teeth, get their belongings and bags, then set off for their first class. Their timetables said that History Of Magic was with Mr Corbin in Room 3A. After asking another older student who pointed them in the direction of the far-most corner of Nyambi House, they set off to find their first class.

The day seemed to fly by for Iris. Most of their classes were getting to know the teachers and one-another, reviewing what they would be working on that term and taking notes. Not particularly exciting, but still fairly interesting all the same.

In History, they were told they would be learning about their own histories first. They would be researching their family trees and their first assignment would be on an ancestor of their choice within the last four generations. Mr Corbin was energetic, enthusiastic and decidedly bouncy.

Potions with Mr Daku seemed as though it would be tremendous fun, the cheerful Potions Master bounced around the class with enthusiasm giving them a quick run-down on the potions they'd work on this term and gave each a tiny vial containing different coloured liquids. It turned out, that these potions he had handed them, were tiny amounts of a Voice Changer Draught. Each student was invited to drink theirs, then read aloud a quick passage from their books.

The students fell about laughing as little Kaushal Anand spoke with a deep, booming roar and large, solidly built Kevin Dance spoke up in a mousey squeak. Iris' potion made her sound just like Kermit the frog and quiet Velia tried to whisper something quickly to get it over with but found her voice seemed to echo from the walls themselves. Arin's voice sounded suspiciously like Iris' own mother and Fae sounded like a horse-racing caller. The largest laugh was when a boy named Ambrose Fynn spoke with a high pitched woman's voice. After a couple of words, he went with it, acting like a long-ago princess complete with exaggerated hand movements and fluttering eyelashes.

Their Transfiguration class was considerably more sober. Mr Lueff was younger than the other teachers, but stern and serious. He had them take notes on their course aims, and then had them work through some theory questions for the entire double period. Finally, toward the end of the class he he told them that the following day, they would be working on turning matchsticks into needles.

At lunch time, they had enough time to comfortably get to the Hall to eat, enjoy some time chatting and comparing opinions of their classes, read or go outside for a bit before the afternoon classes.

The Magpies were back in the Hall, hopping around usually close to their owners and causing all kinds of mayhem. Bertie was wisely giving Josiah a wide berth and Iris managed to encourage him to come and spend some time with Arin, Fae and herself. Though a lot of other students seemed to consider the magpies as absolute menaces, Iris found them funny and delightful.

After lunch in her first Charms class Iris was disappointed that they would yet again be doing theory work. They hadn't been able to actually use their wands and cast any magic at all for the entire day. Determined to do well though, she took her notes without complaint.

Their final class of the day, Defensive Magic, was to be held out on the front lawn which she felt would be a nice change from being inside all day.

When they arrived outside, they found Mr Giovanni waiting for them under the shade of a huge peppercorn tree. Iris moaned quietly, noticing a couple of Arnhem students that were taking this class with them. Kendra Gaunt met Iris' eyes and turned away, smirking.

Mr Giovanni called their attention with a large bang and red sparks shooting from his wand into the air.

"Defensive Magic is one of the most important classes you will take during your time at Nyambi." he told them all, looking around to ensure he had every student's attention. "I expect your undivided attention when I am talking, and I will not tolerate any tomfoolery in my class."

"There will be many subjects we will cover and spells you will learn that can be dangerous. I will not have any of you risking one another's safety by behaving foolishly." he told them. Iris decided that her Head of House was not a teacher to be trifled with.

"Today, we will be working on the most basic of spells; a means to signal danger and call for help which is recognised by wizards across the globe."

'Finally!' Iris thought, 'We get to use our wands!'

Mr Giovanni had them all gather around him whilst he demonstrated the simple spell.

"Pronunciation is important." he explained, "As is your intent, and your wand movement.

"Vermillious." he said, casting his wand into the air. Red sparks shot out of his wand, high up into the air. Then, he had all the students line up along the expansive lawn and practice the incantation first, and then the correct wand movement. Finally, they were to put the two together.

"Vermillious!" Iris cried, jabbing her wand skyward. She instantly felt the tingle of magic in her fingers. Bright red sparks shot out of the tip of her wand and into the air. She grinned in delight, looking round at her classmates. Only a handful of students were able to send sparks like she had.

"Well done Miss Dursley, 10 points to Uluru." Mr Giovanni said curtly and Iris glowed at his praise. The teacher also bestowed points to the others who had mastered the spell right away. Kendra, Iris noticed, was only given 5 points for Arnhem. Her sparks were paler and hadn't gone as high as Iris' had.

Several of the others seemed to be having trouble, Mr Giovanni hurried to help them with their spell and before long, they too had mastered the simple task.

Next, he taught them the Periculum spell, which sent a red flare high up into the air instead of sparks. Many of the students competed to see who could send theirs higher than the others.

The spells may have been basic, but Iris and the others were thrilled to finally be learning them. The finished the class with a stern warning not to attempt either spell indoors, and then Mr Giovanni sent them inside to cool off after classes had ended for the day.

Walking back across the lawn, Iris, Fae and Arin were chatting happily between themselves when Iris felt her shoulder bumped from behind. Kendra had knocked into her as she passed.

"I'm surprised they even managed sparks." she was saying loudly to her friends, "Everyone knows Muggo kids have weak magic." she smirked over her shoulder and kept going, "It's the diluted blood, my mother says. I can't believe they even let them come to school."

"Leave it," Fae said, grasping Iris' shoulder as though she sensed Iris' anger. "Ignore her. We know it’s a load of garbage. She's just trying to get you into trouble." she indicated her head and Iris saw that Mr Giovanni was following not far behind, in conversation with another Arnhem student. Iris let out a deep breath. If she'd reacted to Kendra just then, she would have got into trouble for sure.

"But why me?" Iris asked, frustrated. "Why is she only bothering me? It's not like I'm the only kid here with Muggo parents."

"I don't know." Arin said, "Maybe because you stood up to her on the bus? I guess she isn't used to anyone not letting her say whatever she wants and get away with it? And you got more points than her in class."

"Probably." Fae said, "When I've met her before, she was very rude to a Ministry worker and nobody said a thing. Her father is the Vice Minister for Magic so she's used to being the only child of the second-most powerful man in the country."

"Ugh!" Iris groaned. "I hope this won't go on all year. The last thing I need is the Vice Minister's daughter giving me a hard time."

When they got back inside to the welcoming cool of the icy fire in the entry hall, Iris stopped to stand in front of it and drew her hair back off her face, cooling her sweaty brow. She watched the icy flames in fascination as they danced and crackled like any normal fire, the only difference being they were shades of bright and pale blue, through to a brighter sort of purple at the centre. She reached out one hand curiously.

"Don't!" Fae grabbed her wrist. "It's frost-fire, it's so cold it burns."

Iris nodded to show she understood and withdrew her hand quickly as soon as Fae let go of her.

"You know," she said to Fae as the three of them turned away from the fire, "At home we just have an air-conditioner." She then had to explain to Fae what an air-conditioner was, as it seems these weren't used in wizarding homes. On reflection, Iris decided she should have known this given that she was warned no electronic devices would work at Nyambi. It seemed they wouldn't work in all-wizarding homes, either.

Entering the Main Hall in the hopes of finding an after-school snack, the girls found the Hall abuzz with some news that had everyone talking excitedly. Curiously, they sat beside Sarissa and Eddie who had joined their table and listened to what she was saying.

"...and Dad says that their security spells are some of the best. So it had to be a pretty powerful Dark Wizard to get in there."

"Who's security?" Fae asked her older cousin.

"The Abernathy Museum's." Sarissa turned her serious face toward them. "They had a break-in like, two weeks ago.”

"What?" Fae said, shock crossing her face. "No way!"

"Oh yeah, we were there!” Iris said suddenly, Arin nodding.

“You were?” everyone turned to look at Iris.

“Yeah, me and Iris and our families were checking out the Museum and there was a big explosion of some sort. We didn’t know what had happened. We got evacuated and some Aurors came to question everyone.” Arin told them.

“Holy cow.” Said somebody quietly.

“It was all over the paper again this morning." Eddie piped up. “I mean, it was reported when it happened but there’s a new article today.”

"Why is it back in the newspaper today?" Iris asked, leaning over with the others to get a good look at the article in the newspaper spread open on the table.

Iris saw the moving black and white picture of an older witch and wizard, leaning over a large table filled with various items and checking them off against a list. Occasionally they reached out and touched something or flipped to a new page on the list. The picture accompanied an article titled; ‘New Development Reported In Museum Explosion’.

"Turns out, it was a break-in, not an accident. The Auror department must have kept it quiet until they'd taken a full inventory. Probably didn't want to give away any details until they knew exactly what was missing, the thieves made a terrible mess." Sarissa explained.

"What was missing?" Iris asked.

"Just one thing." Eddie told them, "Pandora's Box."

Chapter Text

Chapter 9  –  The Library

“Ho-ly sh-!” Arin began.

“Seriously?!” Iris asked over the end of Arin’s sentence. “But… why?” Before anyone could answer, Iris spun to look at Arin.

“Can you write to your parents right now? Please? They cannot tell my parents about this! Dad barely let me come to Nyambi as it is! If they find out it wasn’t an accident at the Museum…” Iris begged her friend.

“On it!” Arin agreed and turned on their heel and took off in the opposite direction.

“What..?” Sarissa began.

“Don’t worry about it.” Iris said hurriedly, not wanting half the school to know her tenuous situation. “Why would anyone take it?” she wondered.

“To sell it?” Eddie suggested.

“It’s pretty distinctive, any collector would never be able to show it to anyone or else the Aurors would be knocking on the door pretty quick.” Sarissa told her brother.

They continued speculating for the next little while, until Arin hurried back, breathless and nodded to Iris, confirming mission accomplished.

“So, the story goes that the Box was on a ship called HMS Pandora that was shipwrecked a couple of hundred years ago on its way back from catching some escaped Dark Wizards.” Sarissa began in response to another student the other side of her asking about the artefact.

“Yeah,” Eddie interjected around a mouthful of grapes, “Some Aurors took the HMS Pandora to hunt down a group of dark wizards that had taken over some other ship and escaped to Taihiti.”

“They got the Box back, and there was a huge duel but the Aurors eventually won. HMS Pandora was bringing the Box and the wizards back to England to face justice when it somehow sank on the Great Barrier Reef. Most of the dark wizards drowned but some of the crew survived. The Box was lost in the wreck.” Sarissa finished, patiently.

“Then the wreck was found by Muggos in the 70’s and of course the Abernathy’s who were only just out of school got called when the cursed Box was found. Barclay was a pretty talented Curse Breaker, even then. They somehow got the Box up from the wreck and it’s been in their museum ever since, it was one of the very first pieces they collected.”

“My Grandfather says its cursed.” A small voice piped up. They all turned to stare at Velia who seemed mortified that her input caused everyone to look at her and she went red and stopped speaking.

“What kind of curse?” Eddie asked eagerly. At first, she didn’t answer but after a moment Velia almost whispered; “Anyone who has touched it has died within a year.”

“That can’t be right,” Fae interjected, “The Abernathy’s have had it for forty years and they have to have touched it during that time, and they haven’t died.”

“I wish I knew what was inside. It must be really valuable if people keep stealing it.” Eddie mused.

The news was all over the school. Sitting in the Main Hall, Iris could hear almost everyone discussing it, not just her group. There hadn’t been any dark wizard activity in Australia for years, so it was indeed big news, shocking and exciting.

Lucinda Abernathy, who must be their museum guide Mara’s younger sister was in Kakadu house, so Arin and the girls begged Eddie to find out whatever he could about the break-in from Lucinda in their Common room that evening. He flatly refused to actually approach and talk to the Year 12 girl, but said he would listen out for anything interesting.

When the conversation eventually turned to Quidditch trials and teams, Iris remembered Taj’s letter. She drew a spare piece of parchment, a quill and ink out of her bag, folded it and neatly tore it – one half bigger than the other.

Dear Taj, she wrote on the smaller half.

I just finished my first day of classes. I only got to use my wand in Defensive Magic learning the spell to call for help in an emergency. The rest was just taking notes. Most of the kids are pretty friendly and the teachers all seem pretty cool. I will have more interesting things to tell you by the end of the week, I bet.

Love, Iris.

“I need to send this back to my brother.” Iris waved the piece of parchment, “Where do we go to send letters?”

“Oh, the Owlery.” Arin replied. “I’ll show you where it is.”

Their path took them out of the Main Hall and instead of out the main door, they wound their way through several rooms and corridors to exit out the back of Nyambi House instead. This brought them to another, larger stretch of lawn which the crossed into the gardens. Following a bricked path that snaked through the trees they quickly arrived at a tidy stone tower with a doorway. It wasn’t very tall, just one flight of steps up to the many windowed dome which was the owl’s home.

“Can you see yours?” Arin asked as the two of them wrinkled their noses at the smell, gazing around at the many snoozing owls. Eventually Iris spotted Obi Wan tucked into a spot high up by the ceiling and called to him, unsure if this was proper Post Owl procedure or if he would even recognize his new name so soon. He seemed to, as the handsome brown owl woke at once, seemed to shake himself alert before gliding down to land on her shoulder.

“Take this back home, Obi.” She said, scratching him gently on the back of the neck as Fae attached her letter for her. Obi hooted softly and immediately launched himself into the air and swooped out of the nearest empty window, winging his way home.

Just as they were leaving, Iris almost bumped into Kendra and her friends coming in.

“Watch it!” Kendra snapped.

“You watch it.” Iris retorted, and kept walking down the path back toward the House.

Kendra muttered something under her breath that Iris didn’t hear, and her friends sniggered. Iris stalked back down the path, Arin right at her side – doing their best to ignore the obnoxious girl.

“Come on,” Arin said when they were out of earshot of the Owlery. “I want to visit the Library.”

“Why do you want to go to the Library?” Eddie asked in disgust when they got back to the Main Hall and told the others. “We haven’t even been given any homework yet.”

“To see if there’s anything we can find on Pandora’s Box, dumbass.” Fae snipped back.

“Ugh, you guys can, I am going back to Kakadu Common room to play Exploding Snap with Mohammed and Hugo.” Eddie replied, snatching a sandwich off the stack on the table to take with him as he left.

“I’ll come, I love Libraries and I have heard a lot about the one here.” Fae shrugged.

They made their way back out of the Main Hall and Fae led them down a wide hallway that they recognised from getting to a couple of their classes earlier in the day. Past the classrooms and down to the very end, were two large wooden doors with fancy metalwork that swung inward with ease when Fae pushed against them.

They found themselves walking on thick lush carpets that silenced their footsteps. All three stopped and gazing around, awestruck.

The Library was a fair bit larger than Iris had expected. Once again, she wondered how on earth that so many rooms in wizarding buildings seemed larger on the inside than they did on the outside. She wondered if this was where muggos got the idea for Dr Who’s Tardis.

Directly in front of them was an ornamental, free-standing narrow staircase that branched out in the middle in a Y shape, and up to either side of the room, allowing access to a balcony that wrapped around the entire library allowing access to the higher shelves. Books, hundreds of books. Thousands of them sat on shelves that lined the walls. Small brass plaques every few feet indicated the letter of the author names for that section.

The Librarian’s desk and counter was just inside the doors to their left, currently unoccupied. There were large windows down either side of the large room allowing light to flood in. Study desks and chairs were grouped here and there, with larger desks for groups tucked into cozy alcoves in the wall.

“Wow.” Iris said, turning slowly. Her eyes went up, and she discovered that every surface that wasn’t covered in bookshelves or windows, was covered in bright, beautiful paintings. The ceiling was covered in them, not a sliver of plaster could be seen between them.

“Where do we start?” Fae turned her eyes to Arin.

“Hullo you kids.” A warm friendly voice came from one of the alcoves and a very strange gentleman appeared. He was of average height, and old judging by his shock of white hair that stood out all around his head. His wrinkled face creased into a cheery grin and he came over to greet them like an old friend who hadn’t seen them in a while. He was wearing the craziest shirt of all different colours that made it look like a completely random mosaic, and his eyes were a strange pearly white.

“Are you Mr Welltree the Librarian?” Arin asked.

“That’s me.” He replied in a warm, welcoming voice. “But call me Uncle Reggie. Everyone does. You three must be new, I haven’t met you before and I never forget a face.”

Fae introduced them all and he nodded at each in turn, committing their names to memory.

“Now what are you three doing in a Library on your first day at school? I don’t normally get Year 7’s in here until the end of the first week.” He asked. Iris liked him immediately. Just like Iluka, Uncle Reggi was friendly, warm and welcoming.

“We wanted to find out more about Pandora’s Box. The one from the ship, not the Greek myth.” She told him. “Do you have any books about it?”

“Sure I do, sure I do. Come in and sit down and Uncle Reggie will find you something.” He beckoned them to follow as he moved further into the Library with a spring in his step. They followed him, and he sat them down at one of the desks near the staircase.

“You wait there just a minute.” He said and bounced up the staircase to the balcony and they craned their necks to follow his progress. Muttering to himself, Uncle Reggie hurried down the length of the balcony and came to a stop a third of the way down. He raised one hand and skimmed over a row of books as though checking off each one until he found what he was looking for.

“Mum says that he’s blind.” Fae leaned in and whispered quietly. The other two both widened their eyes in surprise, and looked back to watch just how easily Uncle Reggie seemed to get around as though he had perfect eyesight.

“How does he do that?” Arin whispered back as Uncle Reggie plucked a book from its shelf. Then he moved to a different section and the process started again.

“No clue.” Fae murmured back. Reggie was already on his way back down the stairs. The whole process had taken only minutes.

“Here we go. Wizarding Treasures Lost At Sea, by Poppy Delaware. This one was written back in the twenties, before the Abernathy’s found it. The Mysteries Of Pandora’s Box, by Mrs Emma Abernathy herself, the authority on the subject. Here’s A Locked Box by Madam Volakis and The Merry Men by a muggo called Elizabeth Walker. That’s an old one so be gentle with it.”

“A muggo novel?” Fae asked uncertainly.

“I suppose so, I never read it.” Uncle Reggie shrugged.

“How will this have anything to do with Pandora’s Box?” Iris asked.

“Dunno mate, you’ll have to read it and find out.” Uncle Reggie grinned. “But my books are never wrong. Pop them on the trolley when you’re done.” He indicated a library trolley next to his desk with a thumb jerked over his shoulder and with that, he wandered off down the back of the Library humming a jaunty tune to himself.

“His books never lie?” Iris asked her friends. Fae shrugged.

They each took a book, leaving The Merry Men for last and began searching through them for information on Pandora’s Box. There wasn’t much information outside of what they already knew, but The Mysteries Of Pandora’s Box had a picture. They crowded around to look at it.

“That’s it.” Arin confirmed. The picture showed the wooden Box a few inches wide and across, and it looked very old and weathered, yet entirely undamaged from being at the bottom of the ocean for a couple of hundred years. The wood was shiny and smooth, the lock and hinges a brassy colour. It had strange markings carved into the lid.

“It says here, that Pandora’s Box is a fairly new name and before the ship Pandora set out to recover it from the dark wizards who stole it, it was known as ‘The Box Of Ruin’.” Fae read.

“That’s just creepy.” Arin said.

“It sounds evil, it looks evil and its true name sounds evil.” Iris shuddered, “I would hate to think what kind of trouble it would stir up if it was opened.”

The trio kept reading. Fae read that the box had been stolen from a witch named Marie de Bougainville back in 1789. It had been in her family for over 300 years before that, but it was unknown where the de Bougainville family had originally got it from, as it was much older than their family histories showed. The de Bougainville family had since died out, and no known ancestors were alive today to claim the Box.

“Maybe one did?” Iris suggested.

“What do you mean?” Arin wrinkled their brown in confusion.

“Perhaps the thief is a long lost descendent of the de Bougainvilles and decided to take it back?” Iris elaborated.

“Why would they?” Fae said, “All they would have to do is go to the Abernathy’s and ask for it, if they were rightfully a de Bouganville heir.

“Maybe they had no proof they were?” Iris shrugged.

The rest of Pandora’s Box was academic information on the markings on the box, theories on its origins and age, and a whole lot of more boring stuff they weren’t keen to read through.

The other books mentioned the box in passing, just a couple of paragraphs in Wizarding Treasures Lost At Sea and the only interesting thing mentioned in A Locked Box which discussed many different locked boxes, chests, trunks and even cabinets in the wizarding world – was a short paragraph at the end of the chapter on Pandora’s Box.

“It is said, that ‘The Box of Ruin’ carries a curse. All who dare to lay their hands on its accursed timber will find their end within a year .” Arin read.

“That’s what Velia said.” Fae snorted, “If that’s true how come the Abernathy’s are alive and well 40 years later?

“The origin of the Box, and its curse are lost in the mists of time.” Arin continued, “Though there are many legends of its origin, so far no truth to these tales that can be confirmed.”

Iris turned to the final book and began flicking through The Merry Men.

“Anything in there?” Fae asked, closing her book.

“I don’t think so, it just seems to be a Robin Hood story.” Iris said, rifling through the pages.

“Robin who?” Fae asked.

“Wizards don’t know about Robin Hood?” Iris glanced from Fae to Arin and back. They shook their heads. “Oh, well it’s a story about a guy in England hundreds and hundreds of years ago who rebelled against Prince John, who was trying to steal King Richard’s throne while he was away. Prince John raised all the taxes and Robin Hood used to rob the rich and give to the poor, saving people from starving.” She summarized, remembering her favourite movie from when she was younger. “They always call his followers his merry men, for some reason.”

At that moment, a group of older students came in, talking quietly among themselves and the three of them glanced up.

“I don’t think we will find anything else today.” Fae stretched, “Come on, let’s go and check out the gardens before dinner.”

The three of them rose, and put the books back on the trolley. Iris almost put The Merry Men back, but at the last minute decided to check it out and read it. She had always loved Robin Hood stories.

Uncle Reggie sauntered over, all happy smiles.

“Find anything useful?” he asked.

“Yes, sort of.” Fae replied.

“Sort of is better than not at all.” Uncle Reggie shrugged. He took the book Iris offered. “Taking this one?” he asked. She nodded.

He pulled out a list on a clipboard and wrote the title of the book, and Iris’ name down. He pulled a wand out of his pocket and tapped the book with it, then returned it to her.

“You’ve got it for a fortnight,” he said. “If you forget to bring it back, it’ll tell you.”

“It talks?” Iris asked, bewildered.

“Yes. In a fashion.” was all Uncle Reggie said. They left the Library, talking about what little information they’d found.

At dinner, the three of them went to sit at the Kakadu table with Eddie to share what they had discovered. Eddie, Hugo, Mohammed and a couple of other students listened in and they spent all of dinner discussing the possible contents, and location of the Box.

It turned out that Eddie didn’t learn anything from Lucinda, he only overheard her friends reassuring her that her parents would ensure that the Museum and their home would get even better security, and that the Auror department would be sure to find whoever was responsible. Nobody came up with a theory on the Box’s contents that was particularly likely, but they had fun discussing it all the same.

After dinner, the three of them went up to their common room. They found the right corridor and the candlestick without too much trouble and ascended the spiral staircase. The girls’ roommates Jess and Rosalie had beat them there and were setting up a game of Pennant with Velia, and Arin’s roommate, Danni.

“Hey, you guys, come play with us.” Rosalie called. They went right over and sat down around the board.

“Velia took some convincing but she said she’d play.” Rosalie added. “Having three more will make it extra fun.”

“Actually, I think I’ll sit it out.” Velia said quietly, glancing around at everyone briefly but not meeting anyone’s eye for more than a second. “Its better played with even numbers.” And before anyone could convince her otherwise, she got up and disappeared into the dorms.

“I think she’s really shy.” Danni told them quietly.

“Let’s ask her to come down to the Quidditch pitch with us tomorrow.” Rosalie replied, “I’m sure that once we get to know her a bit, she will end up being really nice.”

“Sure, Rose.” Jess said. “Now, how does this game work?”

*********

The following morning, Iris woke to the sound of whispers from the other girls. The scent of sea air and sounds of the ocean and seagulls flooded the room, making Iris sit up. Her bed faced the window directly and what she was seeing just didn’t make any sense.

“What?” she asked the room at large, confused.

Yesterday and the day before, the view from their dorm-room window was mostly of the sky, partly the roof of Nyambi, and partly of the eastern part of the gardens and the scrubby hills beyond.

Right now, she was gazing at the clear blue sky and the glorious, uninterrupted view of the ocean from the top of the hill that Nyambi House was built on. The smaller windows at the top of the room were open, letting in the breeze.

“I don’t know!” Rosalie replied, hurriedly shoving clothes on and tossing her pajamas haphazardly onto her bed. “This is so weird! I’m going to ask somebody in the common room.” And with that, she scurried out of the door, Jess right behind her. From the sounds of things, other girls from the other rooms in their corridor were just as befuddled as they were.

Velia just sat and gazed out the window in silent delight as Fae and Iris got dressed, ready to follow the others out of their bedroom.

“It’s probably another practical joke.” Iris said.

“It’s pretty cool, though! For a prank.” Fae replied.

The views from the common room were equally as spectacular, also of the ocean.

“It’s Wednesday.” Brick said to the Year 7’s who clamoured around him wanting to know what was going on. He turned and left the Common room without further explanation, leaving them just as confused as before.

“That’s it? Its Wednesday?” one boy asked Brick’s retreating back. “What in Yagan’s left nostril hairs has that got to do with anything?”

Fortunately, Sarissa was more forthcoming.

“Every Wednesday, we get an ocean view. Nobody knows why, but every window in the house will show the beach, and the sea. It will be back to normal, tomorrow.” She assured them.

The Year 7’s were amazed to see the glorious ocean views from the corridors. As well as their classrooms, during every lesson that day. Every single window at Nyambi overlooked the distant beach and the glorious blue ocean that stretched on forever, even the windows on the other side of the house that didn’t even face the ocean.

The most bizarre part was stepping outside any of the back or side doors onto Nyambi’s veranda, which were still leading into the gardens or onto the lawn as they always did. Even crazier, was stepping back into the house and looking through an open doorway to the gardens, then glancing at the window beside it which showed the magnificent ocean view.

That day, Iris and her friends had their first Herbology class. They filed in to Shadehouse 1 where their teacher, the woman who had called their names out for the Sorting Ceremony was waiting for them. She was dressed in bright patterns with mostly red, yellow, orange and blue, her braided hair was swept back under a bright yellow bandana and she looked lively and fun.

“Good morning, class!” she said brightly.

“Good morning, Miss Kitur.” They all responded in a drone.

“Oh, that sounds way too Primary-School to me. In my class, I don’t want you all to drone along like robots. Say hi! Be energetic!” she clapped her hands.

“Where I come from, we say ‘Jambo’, or ‘Jambo sana’ if we’re really happy to see somebody.” Miss Kitur told them. “Think of another way to say hello, and let’s try again.” she suggested. Then, “Good morning, class!”

The was a lively and nearly unintelligible jumble of “Hi!”, “G’day.” “Howdy!”, “’Sup?”, “Alright, then?”, “Kia ora.” and so on.

“Much better!” Miss Kitur beamed at them all. “My name is Betty Kitur and I am your Herbology teacher. I welcome my students to call me Betty if they like. In this class, we will mostly be doing hands-on lessons, and not a great deal of writing. I do recommend wearing your oldest uniforms in my class, and make sure you always bring your gloves along. We will usually be getting our hands dirty.”

“We are starting off here in Shadehouse 1 this term, and as you progress, we will move on to other Shadehouses and greenhouses which house more dangerous plants. Now, lets get to it! Can everyone partner up please, and each pair stand in front of one of these potting tables?” she gestured to the small potting tables set up along this section of the Shadehouse.

Fae and Eddie partnered up, and so Iris and Arin decided to work together for the class. On each table, there were trays of seedings, some larger, coloured pots to transplant them into, and a piece of parchment with the names and descriptions of each of the plants, along with what they needed to thrive.

“Now, I don’t know how much gardening experience any of you have but there are a couple of key things about plants you need to know.” Betty began the lesson. “Every species of plant has its own unique needs of sunlight or darkness, amount of water, and types of soil and fertilizer. Given the right conditions, any plant can thrive. In the wrong conditions, they can easily wilt and die.” she instructed.

“Today, we are working on identifying the seedings you have before you, and planting them in the correct coloured pots. Before we begin, lets go over the seedlings we are growing this term.” She said, lifting one of her own seedlings for them to see.

“Can anyone tell me what this one is?” she asked. Iris and Arin squinted at it, then down at their list to try and work it out from the descriptions but somebody else got there first.

“Is it a Snapwood Fern?” Jess Weaver called out.

“Yes! Very good, your name and House?” Kitty replied joyfully.

“Jess Weaver, Uluru.”

“10 points to Uluru, then.” Kitty beamed. “The Snapwood Fern is mostly found in the cooler, southern regions where we get more rainfall. For an extra 10 points, can you tell me what they’re useful for?” Kitty asked hopefully. Jess shook her head.

“The Snapwood Ferns are commonly used in bruise and minor burn salves. They can also be used in creating protective charms for people to wear.” She told them. Iris pulled out a biro she had brought from home and jotted that down in a space below the Fernwood’s name. Glancing around, she saw a few others do the same.

Betty took them through the same process to identify their other seedlings, which were the Blisterleaf Creeper, Spindleflax and Seathistles; a plant that naturally grew only between rocks on the edge of the ocean, and they had to be watered exclusively with seawater.

“Now, I am going to teach out of my specialty and show you a neat charm you can use, to put your names on your pots. We will be caring for these plants all this term so you’ll need to know which are yours.” Betty told them, which had the eager Year 7’s giving her their undivided attention completely.

Betty drew her wand, and demonstrated a simple loopy wand movement ending in a flick. Please, everyone try this wand movement.” She asked. Keen, the class did as asked. Betty quickly went along the row to check everyone had it correctly then taught them the incantation.

“Now we say ‘signum’ and your name.” she pronounced it carefully for the class, then picked up a pot and cast the spell to show them. “Signum Betty Kitur.” Right away, Betty’s name appeared on the outside of the pot in neat script.

Eager to try it for themselves, the class all began putting their names on their pots. Once they were done, Betty asked them to put their wands away, and using her own wand to conjure a chart for each of them, asked the class to identify each of their seedlings by the description provided, and plant them into the appropriate coloured pot, surround it with soil and then wait for the next instruction.

Iris found she really enjoyed the class. Betty was quite happy for the students to talk amongst themselves, and she was happy to give out praise, assistance and to answer questions whenever asked.

Once done, Betty then asked them to use the same spell for their names, to put the name of the plant species on each pot as well which they all did with vigour, just happy to be casting magic. Finally, Betty called for their attention.

“Now, please read through each of your seedling’s needs. Fertilisers are over here, put the correct fertilizer in with the appropriate plant, then water them in according to the directions given.” She told them. Iris and Arin decided to split the job, Arin getting the watering can and a salt-water spraybottle, and Iris taking a trowel and bucket to get the first type of fertilizer they’d need.

Once that was done, the final step was for them to take their plants to the correct area for optimal growth. Most of the pots were to remain in Shadehouse One, but the Seathistles had to be taken outside to a spot where they would be in the full sun for most of the day. Betty had the students help her manually set up an irrigation system for the pots, which connected to a charmed tank which would continue refilling itself with seawater so the Seathistle’s would get the correct watering for their needs.

“That class was so much fun!” Fae said, as the class began walking back up to the House for their Transfiguration class.

“Yeah! I can’t wait to see our plants grow. The flowers that the Blisterleafs produce sound so beautiful.” Arin agreed.

“I want to see the leaves on the Thistles turn pink and glow in the sunset.” Iris said, which was her favourite property of the Seathistle she’d learned about that day. The others agreed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 – The Secret Cove

The topic of the Pandora's Box theft was all over the school for the next few days. Iris heard people wildly speculating on how the thief got past the security measures on the museum in broad daylight, why it was stolen and of course what the Box might contain. As she and Arin had actually been at the museum on the day of the theft, word got out fast and Iris found herself the focus of attention of almost everyone as she and Arin were asked to relay their tale over and over, and answer a dozen questions they had no idea the answer for.

Of course, a lot of people were worried about a potential Dark Witch or Wizard on the loose, and many of the younger or more impressionable people began to get more and more paranoid. It got to the point where Headmistress Brocklehurst had to make an announcement at dinner to reassure and calm people down before somebody did something stupid.

Iris felt that the first week was simultaneously dragging, and racing by. There was so much to absorb! New teacher's names, other student's names, their lessons, and of course learning and remembering the confusing layout of Nyambi House itself. And that was without all the wild speculation on the theft of Pandora's Box to contend with.

The House layout seemed to make no sense whatsoever. Some classrooms were between offices and toilet blocks, the Sick Bay was on the first floor right down the back of the House. Apparently the Wollumbin Common room and dorm rooms were somewhere out in the grounds in a large outbuilding which forced those students to walk five minutes through the grounds at night to get to bed after dinner.

Iris overheard Sarissa telling somebody that to get to the Art room, they'd have to go up to the third floor, go down to the very end of the corridor and through the door just under the eaves which led you down a staircase on the outside of the House to the Art room itself which was a room partially bulging out the side of the House on the second floor which had no other means of getting into it directly. Iris was sorely tempted to sketch out a rudimentary map, just for her own sanity, but refrained as she remembered the warnings they'd received against this the first night.

On Thursday the weather was obscenely hot and nobody wanted to set foot outside into the wilting gardens to face the furnace outside. Iris, Fae and Arin who just seemed to gravitate together as a group, found the Interhouse Common Room, known as The Swamp among the students. It was a large space, with a couple of entrances but no doors to close the room in. The Swamp had a magical radio, three or four round tables with comfy chairs grouped around them and plenty of recliner chairs and couches scattered here and there. Lining some of the walls, bookshelves held everything from games, to books, instruments, spare papers and quills, pencils, jigsaw puzzles, and a cabinet filled with an eclectic blend of objects. In one corner there was a sign-post, with signs pointing off in all directions.

The three of them spent a few minutes reading the signs; 'Sydney – 3,221km', 'Las Vegas – 15,465km', 'Hogwarts – 14,955km', IBR Arjeplog – 13,801km', 'Nurmengard Castle – 13,509km', 'Zanzibar – 8,368km', 'Lazare Flizbisket's House – 3,494km', 'Ransnack – 3km' and 'Yo Mamma – 100km' were just some of the signs on the signpost. Some of them made Iris laugh, but some she didn't really get the references so Fae and Arin explained them.

"…and Lazare Flizbisket is a really hot Broom Racing star from Queensland. Oh, and Ransnack is the deli in town, we can check it out when we have the first Woop Weekend." Fae finished as the three of them flopped down on an empty couch to enjoy the much cooler air indoors during their lunchbreak. All four House banners were displayed in the high-ceilinged, airy space and Iris felt right at home

"Why's it called 'The Swamp'?" Iris asked.

"Sarissa saids its because about 20 years ago somebody set off a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes portable swamp in here and the teachers couldn't get rid of it for days! So everyone started saying 'The Swamp' and the name kinda stuck."

Then they spent a happy hour discussing some of the different products available and what each of them had tried, or wanted to try from the Weasley range.

The next day, Friday, they had their first flying class. Iris and several of the other students were very excited for this, the idea of zipping around the skies on a broom was exhilarating and she couldn't wait to try it.

Students from all the Houses were mingling together. Apparently, the Houses had been split in half with one half taking Flying on the Friday mornings and the rest – Iris' group – taking the class on Friday afternoons.

She was severely disappointed when instead of getting straight onto the school brooms lying on the neatly trimmed Quidditch Pitch, their flying instructor had them run 2 laps of the pitch and go through some stretches as a group.

"But sir!" one of the boys whined as he stretched one leg up behind him halfheartedly, "I thought this was a flying class."

"It is a flying class, Mr Kirk." their instructor, Mr Greenfield replied matter-of-factly. "Flying takes a great deal of physical strength and endurance once you start to do more than the basics. Wind, air pressure, thrust and G-forces can whip an unfit flyer straight off their broom which can be fatal." He raised his voice and glared around at the class to be sure everyone was listening.

"What forces can dislodge an unfit flyer, Miss Smith?" he suddenly shot a question at Rosalie who had been whispering in annoyance to Jess. Both girls shut up immediately and Rosalie went red.

"Er, wind?" she asked.

"And?" he prompted.

"Um…" she went even redder.

"Anyone else?" Mr Greenfield asked the class as a whole. Several hands shot up, and Mr Greenfield called on the shortest boy in the class, Katut, for the answer.

"Wind, air pressure, thrust and B-forces." He replied promptly.

"I think you will find it is G-forces, Mr Perbesi." Mr Greenfield replied dryly as several other kids chuckled. "But well done, 10 points to Uluru."

After their stretches, Mr Greenfield had them run through a series of exercises designed to strengthen their core, shoulders and overall posture. By the end of it, half the class was groaning in pain and everyone was red in the face and sweating.

"Fitness is key!" Mr Greenfield called over the groans and complaints. "You will struggle to fly well if you do not have the strength to stick to your broom once the pace begins to pick up."

And then; "Well done, Miss Belcam!" he praised one of the Wollumbin girls who was working through the exercises with relative ease.

"Thanks, Sir." She replied, grinning.

"It's alright for her," Jess muttered under her breath, wiping sweat from her forehead with the hem of her shirt, "Her Dad is a broomstick maker, she spends all day on brooms!"

Finally, toward the end of the class they were all permitted to step up next to a broomstick lying dormant on the pitch. They were instructed to stand to the left side of the broom, right hand out over it and to say "Up!" with determination and conviction.

Iris' broom leapt into her hand right away and she felt a thrill go through her. Glancing around the rest of the class, many others had their brooms in hand already. A couple of the quieter kids down the back of the group were having trouble. Some brooms wriggled a little but didn't lift off the ground at all.

"No, no no! This is flying, people – not a lazy Sunday saunter around the park. You have to mean it. Once more, with feeling!" Mr Greenfield shouted.

One of the boys, Calix Wilkins, overdid it a bit, and missed his broom which rose sharply on his third try and flung itself into the sky, arced high over the group and fell earthward again. He ran, red-faced to fetch it as the rest of the class laughed.

Once everyone had their broom in hand, Mr Greenfield showed them all how to grip their handles correctly and to mount their brooms. He strode up and down the lines correcting people where need-be and instructing them how to adjust their position for the best balance.

"Flying is not just sitting on a broomstick and floating about, no siree! It is a ballet! An artform! You are learning to dance the skies, Mr Wilkins!" he continued. "Learning to fly takes determination, dedication and a desire to perform!"

"This is a beginner's class, not a professional Quidditch team." Somebody muttered under their breath further up the line, but Mr Greenfield didn't hear them – he was too busy telling Hugo to adjust his posture for 'optimal aerodynamics'.

Mr Greenfield instructed the front row of students to kick off hard from the ground, rise up on their brooms and then level out and move forward half the length of the pitch. Then to angle the handle downward to come back to the ground. He blew his whistle and the first row took off!

The brooms must have had safety spells on them, as they didn't go very fast, nor very high but the Year 7's had a thrill flying their school-owned brooms forward and landed the safely on the other side.

"What is this?" Mr Greenfield boomed across the pitch, "A crochet charm circle?" before turning back to Iris' group.

When Mr Greenfield blew his whistle, Iris pushed off from the ground as hard as she could and felt her stomach swoop as the broom lifted strongly upwards just a little faster than the others. She leaned forward and began smoothly sailing forward through the air across the Quidditch pitch.

Mr Greenfield's whistle sounded again and he beckoned the students back to him, on foot. They all hefted their brooms and made their way over.

"Today, people! Merlin, there are wizards with walking sticks faster than you lot! Chop chop!"

He ran them through the drills again and then had the class 'cool off' by jogging a lap of the pitch. Most of the class walked at least three quarters of the lap.

"He is a little intense." A boy ahead of Iris complained once they were out of earshot during their cool down lap.

"Roger Greenfield used to be a Broom Racing champion, like 10 years ago." Arin said, "Mum says he knows his stuff, but can't let go of his racing days."

"Clearly he can't let go of that whistle, either." Iris rolled her eyes as Mr Greenfield blew it yet again and motioned to them to keep jogging. Most of the students picked up the pace for a few strides before dropping back into a walk once more.

Saturday dawned a bit cooler and the school inhabitants as a whole were relieved that the temperatures for the weekend would be much more tolerable. At breakfast, Iris and her friends discussed what they wanted to do for the day, seeing as they didn't really have much in the way of homework to worry about.

"Let's go check out the gardens." Arin suggested, "We haven't even seen half of them yet. Who knows what we'll find?" Iris and Fae agreed with alacrity and finished their breakfast quickly so they could spend a whole, free day exploring the House and grounds without a time limit.

They wandered for a while, discovering benches shaded by sweeping willows, curious rock gardens, a pretty little waterfall flowing down a section of hill and plenty of well-kept lawn just inviting them to sit and talk on the soft greenery.

"Oh, check this out!" Iris said, spotting a pretty little fountain. The grey stone fountain had a pool of water in its base, and a stone mermaid held up an amphora from which the water spilled out in a pleasant trickle. The bottom of the fountain was covered in pretty seashells and Iris dipped her hand in to pick one up.

"Oh, lets follow this path." Fae suggested, pointing off to the west and the others nodded. Iris absently shoved the shell into her pocket as she followed her friends.

The narrow stone path between the trees and through a rose garden, when they heard a thud nearby, followed by the distinctive clink of metal. All three of them turned to see who it was.

From around the side of the House came a wizard shuffling along awkwardly carrying an assortment of mismatched tools. He was, from all appearances, the school's handyman though the state of his flannel shirt – covered in dirt, bits of greenery and a smear of a mysterious substance – suggested that 'handyman' was only the half of it. Iris noticed that his boots weren't even a matched pair. His flyaway hair poked out from beneath his akubra and he squinted against the sunlight as he approached the trio.

"Well, well," he said cheerfully, "New faces, eh? Year 7's?" he asked.

"Yep," Fae replied. "Who are you?"

"'m Gus," the man beamed at them, showing a gap between his front teeth, "Facilities Manager, trouble-fixer and unofficial school bloodhound." He twinkled at them.

"Iris, Fae & Arin," Iris introduced them, "Nice to meet you. What does a Facilities Manager do, exactly?"

"Everything, mostly." Gus replied, looking pleased with himself. "When things break, I make 'em unbroke. Or when things get lost, I make 'em found. I help ol' Jirra with the grounds and Saffy with the House maintenance sometimes, and I've even been known to brave the Creature pens to 'elp Zariyah from time to time." He explained.

"Oh, your name reminds me." Gus put his tools down to the side of the path and beckoned to the students, "Lemme show you something."

Curious, the three of them followed Gus down the path and off to a new section of garden they hadn't seen yet. Gus led them to a flower bed and showed them a group of plants that had their flowers tightly curled into buds.

"These are Illuminating Iris flowers. They only bloom in the dark, and they glow." He told them.

"Oh wow!" Iris said. "We will have to come back after sunset to see them. Thanks!"

"No wukkas. I got to get on, but I thought you might like to see 'em." He said and whistling a jaunty tune, Gus turned and headed back to collect his discarded tools and to presumably continue on whatever errand they'd interrupted him in.

"Oh! I have an idea!" Arin said suddenly. They reached out and very carefully plucked one of the flower stems, then beckoned to the girls to follow them. "C'mon on!"

Arin led them back toward the house, but instead of following the main path back up to the front stairs and entrance to the House, turned down a narrower path the girls realised was the one that wound around the side of the House, down the hill a little way to the outdoor entrance to the Potions labs in the cellars.

They stepped through the open door, and followed Arin down the corridor to the main cellar staircase that led back up to the indoor entrance to the House from the cellars. Turning to the side where the staircase shadowed most of the light out of a cool, dark little alcove, the three friends watched in delight as the Illuminating Iris very slowly began to unfurl and bloom in the semi darkness. Once completely unfurled, it began to softly glow.

"Oh wow." Fae breathed as the three of them stood together, admiring the little flower's beauty. "This is so beautiful!"

Once they had had their fill of admiring the delicate little bloom, the three of them walked out of the shadowed alcove and blinked in the sudden brightness. The other side of the staircase, a boy was poking about along the wall with his wand.

"What are you doing?" Arin asked curiously. The boy turned at the sound of their voice and grinned when he recognised them from classes.

"Looking for secret passages!" he said. "Brick said there's a few of them in the school but they can be hard to find."

"Are there really?" Iris asked, perking up with her sense of adventure kindling immediately.

"Yeah. I'm going to find at least one this weekend." He said.

"Calix, right?" Fae asked and Calix nodded. "Cool, I'm Fae, this is Iris and Arin." She introduced them. "How come you're looking for one here?"

"Oh, apparently there's a secret passage down here somewhere that goes around the back of the Hall and into the kitchens! I figured I might see if I could get one of those awesome pies we had for dessert last night."

"Can we help?" Iris asked at once.

"Sure!" Calix nodded enthusiastically. "I don't have much to go on, but I'm checking anywhere I can think of for any sign of a doorway or secret opening somewhere around here."

Iris, Arin and Fae spread out and joined him. They carefully examined the stonework, inspected fixtures for movement and Iris began pulling books out of a slender bookcase one by one in case she lucked into one of them triggering a secret passageway to reveal itself. They all took turns checking every possibility they could think off all around the main cellar corridor – methodically working their way from the far end back to the staircase that led up into Nyambi House proper.

After about an hour of this, they were beginning to lose interest. The four of them unanimously decided to take a break and sat on a bench beside the staircase.

"I guess there's nothing here." Calix said, disappointed.

"Maybe Brick meant a different area?" Fae suggested, "We could perhaps go and ask him?"

"Yeah, maybe…" Calix trailed off.

Iris got up and began admiring the stone carvings decorating the fascia under the staircase. Some long-ago stone mason had painstakingly carved a whole ocean-themed frieze across the fascia's surface. Absently, her hands when into her pockets as she leaned in to admire a small stone octopus. A hard little round lump in her pocket made her pause and she remembered the shell she'd found in the fountain as she lifted it out of her pocket.

"You guys should come check this out," she said, tapping the shell absently against the stonework, "It's really…"

A scraping sound cut her off. Looking back, Iris was astonished to find an open doorway in the middle of the frieze where there certainly wasn't one before!

"Whoah!" Calix leapt up, excited – the other two close on his heels. "You found it!"

"Oh Merlin this is cool!" Arin breathed.

"Well, come on! Let's go!" Calix said and stepped through the open doorway, the others right behind him. They had entered a short tunnel cut into the stone and at the end, they followed the turn which became a slightly wider tunnel with shallow steps cut into the floor that led gently downward.

"Lumos." Fae lit her wand to illuminate the darkness and the others quickly followed her example. The four of them followed the tunnel down into the darkness. It twisted and turned, and then the neat man-made stone passage gave way to a rougher tunnel cut through the hill itself.

"I don't think this goes to the kitchens," Fae said after a while. "We've gone too far and we're still going down, not up back into the House.

"We have to see where this goes!" Iris and Calix both said together, then laughed.

"I don't see why not," Fae replied, ever the voice of sense, "It smells nice and fresh so it must be open to the air somewhere, and there's no sign of damage or even any spiderwebs in here."

Her voice was strangely hushed by the rock around them, there were no echoes and it was as if the hill itself drank the sound of her voice in.

"There's stairs!" Arin said ahead of them, excitedly. "It gets a bit steeper here."

They carefully climbed down the rough-hewn stairs as the winding, twisting tunnel sloped more sharply downward.

"I see light!" they cried after a few more minutes.

Turning a corner, the others could see light as well and within moments they were emerging from a rough opening in the rock and out into a small cove completely encircled by steep, high jagged rockfaces on every side. A few more steps led down to a tiny sandy beach where the stunningly turquoise water met the shore.

The whole cove was a rough oval shape, maybe 140 feet across the widest point which was directly in front of them. A sizable hole in the rock on the far side which was mostly submerged in deeper water lead out to the ocean, they could hear waves crashing rhythmically against the outer rocks of the cove and the water rose and fell as it came through the hole. The water inside the hidden cove was however, flat and mostly still with just little wavelets hissing as they lapped at the crystal white sands at their feet.

There were a couple of rocks in the water, too. Mostly small and just poking out of the water's surface and another, bigger flat rock that the four of them could easily sit on, all in a row to dangle their feet with room to spare if they chose.

Turning around, they saw that on the other side of the rough stone steps that led down to the sand, the water was deeper and a channel of sorts led into a series of shallow caves, the first ones higher and dry, the other low and filled with water.

For a few moments, the four of them stood, staring around speechless and the tiny slice of secret paradise they'd found.

"This is way better than the kitchens!" Calix whooped, before shucking his shoes and socks, dumping them on the top step and hurtling down to wade in the shallows and splash around. The other three promptly followed.

Iris, Arin, Fae and Calix spent a couple of very happy hours exploring their hidden cove. They waded in the water, and when it got too deep for wading, they hopped up onto one of the smaller rocks and used it as stepping stone onto the big flat one where they could sit and easily dangle their feet in the water, or stand and get a better view of the whole place.

They wandered into the shallow caves at the back, finding neat sitting areas in the rock and enjoying the cool, soft dry sand under their feet on the cave floor. Climbing easily down to the lowest cave, they peered down into the water that looked surprisingly deep just there.

To their ongoing delight, the four students found a couple of small rock-pools with thriving communities of tiny crabs, seaweed, miniature coral gardens and starfish. The found shells everywhere on the beach and in the shallows, some plain and white but many with various colours and patterns, and a huge variety of shapes.

It was with great reluctance that Fae called their attention to the time. "Hey, we'd better go. Otherwise somebody might come looking for us if we don't turn up for lunch."

The other three dragged themselves away from their glorious discovery, brushing sand off their feet to put their socks and shoes back on. They lingered at the entrance to the passageway back up to the school, gazing around the cove one last time.

"We should keep this place secret." Calix suggested.

"Yeah, if heaps of people start coming down here, they'll ruin it. Besides, I think we're technically off school grounds and we could get into trouble." Iris agreed.

"Oh for sure. We discovered this place, just us four. We should keep it a secret between just us four." Arin replied, sticking their hand out, palm down. "Does everyone agree?"

"Yes." Fae said firmly, putting her hand on top of Arin's. Calix and Iris added their hands to the pile.

"We have to all promise to keep this place absolutely secret. No matter what, only we four will know about it." Calix looked around the group meaningfully and the other three all nodded. They had no desire to share their new discovery with anyone else in the school. Together, they lowered their hands all piled together then lifted them at once – sealing their pact.

The climb back up the tunnel was a lot harder than it was coming down and it took them a good deal longer. Despite breathing heavily before they were even halfway back up to the Potions cellar, they all chattered non-stop about their secret cove.

Behind them - unnoticed - a sleek shining shape moved through the cove's deeper waters. The tip of a dorsal fin briefly broke the surface as something turned, dived, and swam swiftly back out of the hole in the cove's wall to the ocean beyond with powerful strokes of a tail.

****

The following morning at breakfast, Obi Wan arrived with the rest of the owls and a dozen magpies who immediately began skipping around, squabbling with one another or playing with their owners whether the owners liked it or not. He carried two letters and Iris opened the smaller one immediately, eager to read it.

Dear Iris,

I wish I could be at Nyambi too! Two years is forever. My new teacher for Year 5 is Mr Pipinski (the teacher’s name was written neatly in her mother’s hand) and he’s really funny. I saw Rachel and Sarah yesterday and I told them you said hi.

I writ a story in school about my sister being a witch and slaying a dragon and Mr Pipinski gave me an A and said I had a great imajjen imaj immijan some really great ideas.

♡ Taj

PS – Mum and Dad sent you some stuff for your famlee tree.

She opened the second letter, which turned out to be a print-out from an ancestry website. She briefly scanned it, and was relieved to see that the family tree went back at least the 4 requested generations.

She saw her mother had made some notes about a couple of people on her side of the family, and her Dad had made a couple about one or two people on his side, but she folded it up again to read later.

They had minimal homework set over the weekend, so the group decided to follow Fae’s suggestion to finish what they did have that morning in the Library which left the remainder of the day for their own activities. The biggest piece they had to complete, was Mr Leuff’s assignment on Magical Cores and so that was where Iris decided to begin.

They found an empty table in a study nook in the Library and set themselves up. Eddie had brought Mohammed Arif with him, and Arin had invited Calix along when they had seen him at breakfast, so it was a cheery group of 6 that squeezed themselves into the study nook.

For the first time in her life, Iris enjoyed doing homework. She was pleasantly surprised by this but thought that on reflection she should have realized it would be fun before now. The topics they were researching and writing about were so interesting to her. Magic, all aspects of magic, were an endless source of fascination and the morning in the Library kept Iris thoroughly engrossed.

They all worked together, helping one another. Arin was a whiz at spelling and sentence structure and was happy to proof-read everyone’s work. Eddie was brilliant at explaining magical concepts if they struggled to wrap their heads around them – despite his reluctance to want to do much in the way of actual work, he seemed to have an innate ability to understand almost anything once he’d read about it.

Fae was the best at keeping everyone organized and on track. She organized a rotation of the books they’d found, got everyone working on a specific assignment so that not everyone was needing the same books at the same time and shut down random side discussions pretty quickly, insisting that they stick to the topics at hand until they were finished. The others often rolled their eyes or snorted at her but good naturedly allowed her to boss them around.

Mohammed had smuggled in snacks. Fae hissed at him to put them away the moment she saw them, glancing around in case Uncle Reggie saw and kicked them out for having food in the Library but Mohammed argued back in fierce whispers that they needed brain-food to sustain them through the morning. After some back and forth and vehement support from Eddie, Fae reluctantly agreed to allow the snacks to remain – kept hidden at all times.

Calix never let it get too quiet or too serious. His humour was subtle and brilliant, and more than a few times they had to muffle their laughter at once of his funnier remarks so the quiet of the library wasn’t disturbed too much. This earned them a few reproving and pointed looks from some Year 10’s studying nearby. Uncle Reggie, wearing an eye-watering pink and orange shirt and green jeans today sauntered by pushing a loaded book trolley at one point, but he didn’t seem bothered by them.

Once Iris had finished with her Magical Core assignment, she stuffed it into her bag and pulled out her Family Tree assignment for History of Magic. She opened up the print-out her parents had sent her and read through it interestedly.

Her father had circled Granny Petunia’s sister’s name – Lily Josephine Evans – and written the note next to it “Aunt Lily was a witch”. Further up that family tree, another note stated that Iris’ great grandmother, Hyacinth Prewett was “Known for telling elaborate fairy stories – might be connected?”

On her mother’s side of the family tree, she smiled at her Nani’s name – Alaya Haniya Abdul – her dear Nani had been so sweet and kind. A note in her own mother’s handwriting stated that Nana, Louis Bhati Malik had been a pilot and was always happiest in the air.

Iris was interested to see that one set of great grandparents on her mother’s side had distinctly French names. Another note beside Great Grandmother Louisa Danielle Lambert’s name stated that according to family legend, she had an unknown and mysterious background that the woman had never spoken about.

Dutifully, Iris copied the names down, whispering this information to the others and listening to tidbits her friends shared about members of their own family trees. Iris wasn’t certain if she was supposed to include all the siblings of her direct ancestors, but added them in anyway, just in case.

“Finally!” Eddie leaned back in his seat and stretched. “All done.”

“Me too.” Iris confirmed, closing a book with a snap.

“Great, what do you guys wanna do now?” Mohammed asked, looking around the table.

“I’m going to the Quidditch Pitch! Team tryouts for Kakadu in about half an hour!” Eddie stated. Mohammed immediately agreed to go along with him to watch the tryouts.

“I think,” Calix said almost too casually, side-eyeing Iris and Fae, “That I might just chill at the House this afternoon.”

“Yeah, us too.” Fae replied, Arin nodding. “We might go to The Swamp or maybe find somewhere quiet to play Exploding Snap or something.”

“OK! Catchya laters.” Eddie replied easily as he and Mohammed gathered up their things and made a bee-line for the Library doors. The rest of the group didn’t need to say another word, they all knew where they planned to spend the afternoon! As quickly as they could they returned their things to their dorms, then hurried out of the Uluru Common room down to the cellar stairs.

At the bottom, they made a sharp turn to the facia where the ocean-themed stone frieze was, then stopped. Iris tapped her hand in as close to the same place as she had the day before to open the secret door. Nothing happened.

“Why won’t it work?” she asked rhetorically, tapping again. Still nothing.

“Oh man, it could be anything.” Fae moaned. “The time of day, the exact right place, even the temperature might have to be the same for it to work.”

“Lets try and go through exactly what you did, and where, and when.” Arin suggested. The four of them carefully talked themselves through the memory of the day before and tried many different variations to get the door to open.

Arin, Fae and Calix all positioned themselves where they were when Iris opened it the first time. When that didn’t work, they tried to replicate the exact number and tempo of taps Iris made. They double, triple and quadruple checked Iris was tapping in the exact same spot. Nothing worked.

Undaunted, they then investigated the frieze in minute detail, pausing only if a staff member or random student passed nearby. They tried different pressure, different angles, more light with their wand-lighting charms, less light by standing in the doorway to block out the sun even further. Still nothing.

After over an hour of this, the four of them slumped back on the nearby bench in defeat.

“Maybe it only works on Saturdays at about 10 o’ clock?” Calix suggested weakly.

Fae shrugged. “Maybe, there are so many variables to secret doors and things like this. We might just have to regroup and try again next week.”

Iris suddenly froze. Her gaze unfocused as an idea slid into the forefront of her mind. “Wait…” she whispered, “Wait.” The others all turned to stare at her.

“I had… I had a shell in my hand yesterday.” She said. “I tapped the frieze with a shell.”

“That’s got to be it!” Fae leapt up in sudden excitement. “Have you got it with you?”

“No, I think I actually dropped it down there. We need to find one!” Iris responded urgently.

“The fountain!” Arin and Fae cried in unison. Calix looked slightly puzzled, but pelted after the others as they high-tailed it down the corridor to the outside cellar entrance, sprinted along the path around the side of the House and ran pell-mell to the pretty fountain they’d discovered the day before.

Without a word, Fae who was by far the fastest of the four of them, scooped a shell out of the bottom of the fountain and raced back the way they’d come with the others on her heels.

Fae skidded to a halt before the frieze, looked around to ensure nobody was nearby and tapped the frieze with the shell. With a grating of stone on stone, the secret passage opened up. Just like magic. They lit their wands and hurried excitedly down the passage.

Chapter Text

Founder’s Day, marked with a grand feast and the wizarding art of storytelling which Iris found absolutely captivating, came and went. Days swiftly turned into weeks and then to months with surprising speed. Between their classes, homework, socialising and slipping off to the secret cove as often as they could manage – they always seemed to be busy.

March was fast coming to a close when students soon had a new topic to discuss that drove all thoughts of Pandora’s Box out of everyone’s minds. At first, there were the occasional murmur and a couple of extra delivery owls. Within a few days floods of letters were being delivered to the students and staff – all about the same topic.

Iris received one herself, from her parents. A new illness was flooding the world and each evening the news reports became more and more dire. Iris felt her heart drop into her stomach like a brick when she read that her father was considering bringing her home, to keep her ‘safe’.

Uneasy gossip went around the school like wildfire, and it was almost impossible to go anywhere without hearing everyone discussing the same thing.

“Covid – 19…”

“…really sick if…”

“Coronavirus, Dad said. Nanna and Grandpa are…”

“…complete lockdown! Nobody is allowed to leave their houses…”

At dinner one evening, the Headmistress stood and called for everyone’s attention.

“Students, I understand that most of you are concerned about the news we are receiving from friends, family and the media about this Coronavirus spreading across the world.” She began. The Hall was so silent, you could have heard a fairy flap its wings.

“Rest assured that we are safe here at Nyambi, until we know more about this disease the school will not be allowing any outside visitors in to protect you from any risk of infection. Letters are going out to your guardians tonight and we will continue classes as usual.” She told them. Once she sat, a sea of discussion once more rose in the room.

“I heard Mr Sefu predicted this!” an older student further up her table blurted out, “He said before the end of last year that this year would bring uncertainty and an unprecedented impact on the world.”

“Unprecedented? May I remind you that the Spanish Flu was a thing? The Black Plague?” somebody else argued back.

“It’s just a muggo’s disease.” Another voice added with an air of indifference, “It won’t bother us.”

“Not necessarily, don’t forget that…”

The snippets of conversation were getting lost amongst the noise. Iris kept quiet and poked at her dinner listlessly. Even if this new sickness was proven to not affect witches and wizards, she had a horrible feeling that her Dad would use it as an excuse to make her leave Nyambi anyway. Him allowing her to come at all was still such a fragile decision, one that could be shattered at a moment’s notice.

“Come on Iris.” Arin elbowed her gently and she looked up to see she had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed that dinner was finished and everyone was getting up to leave the Hall for the evening. Her friends gave her sympathetic glances all the way back the Common Room.

Excusing herself for the night, Iris went and had an early shower, got into her pajamas and went to bed – definitively closing the heavy drapes around her bed. She wanted to be left alone to mope for a while. She heard the others come in, speaking in low voices later in the evening and didn’t even respond when Iluka popped in to say her routine goodnight to them all. Eventually, she fell asleep.

******

Iris managed to push away most of her worry during classes the following day. In History, they had all completed their family trees and unrolled them ready for Mr Corbin to teach them the final step he had promised.

“Now, don’t worry if you struggle with this one. This charm is fairly advanced for Year 7 and it is quite uncommon for anyone to get it right away. If you are having trouble with it, I will assist you. Now first, the incantation. Everyone, repeat after me; ostende magicae.”

“Ostende magicae.” The class repeated.

“Very good, now listen carefully to my pronunciation, ostende magicae. Emphasis on the mag-IC-ae.”

The class tried again. Mr Corbin then showed them the wand movement, and finally allowed them to try it for themselves.

“Now, cast this on your own Family Tree that you’ve completed.” He instructed them.

To everyone’s disappointment but nobody’s surprise – not a single student could perform the spell immediately. Mr Corbin moved along the desks, asking students to show him then gently correcting their pronunciation or their wand movements. Some were swishing too hard, some too little. Some students had added in a dramatic flair that wasn’t working. Iris was struggling to move her wand correctly without accidentally adding a jab at the end.

Finally, after nearly half the lesson of trying, Arin succeeded

“Oh!” they cried in delight, “Look!”

Iris leaned over to look at Arin’s meticulously drawn and labelled family tree and her mouth dropped open as most names on their mother’s side changed colour and began to gleam in metallic shades.

“Well done Arin!” Mr Corbin applauded, “Ten points to Uluru! Excellent work.” Arin blushed with pleasure. Iris couldn’t help notice the calculating frown on Kendra’s face out of the corner of her eye.

By the end of the lesson, everyone had managed the spell. Iris was thrilled when hers worked and her aunt Lily Potter’s (neè Evans) name glowed brightly, as did her only child’s name – Harry Potter.

Iris was amazed to discover that even further back she had other magical names in her family tree including her great-great grandmother Daniella Khan (neè Lambert). Iris traced Daniella’s name and that of her muggo husband Awani Khan. Iris wondered if they had been alive when her mother was born, if her mother had any memories at all of her great-grandparents. If she had any idea at all that her great grandmother had been a witch.

Even more surprising was her great-great grandfather on her father’s side of the family tree, Herschel Evans. The magical names were all shimmering brightly in hues of blue, aqua, turquoise and violet. A couple of names including Herschel’s four children had changed to a plain dark blue from her original black ink and this puzzled her.

“Sir, why are some of mine dark blue but not shimmering?” Iris raised her hand to ask. Several nearby students turned to look and both Calix and Fae leaned in to see.

“Ah! Squibs!” Mr Corbin responded brightly, coming over to look at her family tree. “The bright shimmering names are of course witches and wizards, but a plain dark blue means that person was a squib. Born of magical parents, with no magical ability despite having a magical core. Squib children were traditionally treated very poorly by magical parents.” He explained. “Many were discreetly adopted out to muggles or simply abandoned and never spoken of again.”

“That’s so sad.” Iris said, staring down at the names of her squib great grandfather Wilfred Evans, and her squib great-great grandmother Dahlia Dursley (neè Black).

“Of course,” Kendra was speaking to her friend whom Iris still hadn’t learned the name of, her voice increasing in volume, “Everyone knows of course that the Gaunt line traces back to Salazaar Slytherin himself. However Mama discovered that we are direct maternal descendants of Morgana Le Fay!” Her voice carrying. She smirked as Mr Corbin bounded over enthusiastically to check out her very lengthy family tree which when unrolled, reached the floor.

“Merlin what a discovery!” Mr Corbin enthused. “And your dedication to this assignment has been exemplary, Kendra.” The girl preened and flashed a sideways glance at Iris, who scowled.

“Yes, sir! We were very excited when Mama discovered a heap of family research in the attic and sent me some of it. I was able to use the archives in the Library to fill in a lot of blanks, and I even wrote to Mistress McGonagall at Hogwarts for more information on past students whom I was able to contact to gather more information.”

“Excellent work! Twenty points to Arnhem for your diligence and extra effort, Kendra.” Mr Corbin praised. Kendra beamed.

“I noticed that Voldemort doesn’t feature anywhere on her tree.” Calix leaned in and whispered so that only Iris, Fae and Arin heard. Iris held back a snort of amusement. No surprises there.

After their final lesson of the day, where they learned to levitate small cushions in Charms seeing as the class had all successfully levitated feathers in a previous lesson, Iris and her friends got changed and hurried down to the Potions Cellar. They waited impatiently just outside for a couple of Year 12 students to finish talking to Mr Daku about an upcoming assignment and once they had all finally left and Mr Daku was safely back inside the lab, they crept to the bottom of the stairs and opened their secret passage.

The sun had heated the rocky cliff faces throughout the day and though at this time of day the only bit of direct sunlight that actually reached the cove was shining through the hole that led out to the open ocean, it was still quite hot in the cove. The four of them threw off their shirts and shorts and rushed into the invitingly cold water to splash and swim around.

They soon found themselves crouched in the shallows close to the beach simply enjoying the water and discussing their irritation of the day.

“Sooo… how about Kendra leaving Voldemort off her family tree?” Calix grinned. “Merope Gaunt was there but not her infamous son.”

“She probably thinks it’d ruin her perfect image. Wouldn’t surprise me if she pretended he didn’t exist. But still, to leave him out completely… Seriously. Her family tree’s full of grandiose names, and then it’s like, poof, Voldemort never happened.” Fae rolled her eyes.

“It’s so… typical of her, though. Always trying to make everyone believe she’s this untouchable royalty. ‘Oh, look at my rich, pure-blood roots!’ Just forget the small detail of the Dark Lord, no big deal. “Iris sniggered.

“I’ll bet her parents told her to leave him off, daddy dearest has worked so hard to bring honour back to the family name and all. But I’d love to see her squirm if anyone pointed it out in front of everyone.” Arin agreed.

Calix laughed. “Oh, that would be brilliant. Kendra, trying to be all prim and perfect, and then someone asks about Voldemort and she has to explain her family’s connection to him.”

“Hey, what was that?” Arin suddenly called out, voice startled and shrill. They all turned to look into the deeper waters of the cove.

“What?” Calix asked.

“Something’s in here.” Something about Arin’s face had them all scrambling out of the water to the safety of the sand immediately. They all turned to look, hearts beating fast.

“Look! A shadow, something’s there.” Arin pointed. Iris saw something move through the water but lost sight of it again in the lengthening shadows cast by the walls of the hidden cove.

“Whatever it is, its pretty big.” Fae wavered.

“It’s probably a dolphin.” Calix tried to sound unbothered but Iris heard the uncertainty in his voice. Emboldened by her friends, Iris decided to use the couple of rocks close to the beach as stepping stones up to the big flat rock to get a better view of the deeper end of the cove. The others followed her in a rush and the four of them stood almost huddled together as they stared hard into the water.

Then, as though summoned by their gaze, the top of a head followed by a face emerged from the depths. It was a woman’s face, and a woman’s hands as she gripped the rock she peered around. Her webbed hands.

The woman’s skin however was a dark grey-blue and her blue-black hair was coarse and braided in parts with decorative shells adoring each braid. Her most noticeable features were her overly large eyes which were a molten golden-brown and the startling bright blue markings all over her face and shoulders. Tattoos of some kind, Iris supposed. She peered at them intently, barely lifting her chin from the water.

The four of them stood in shocked silence for a few moments. The woman stared solemnly back at them.

Finally, Arin smiled tentatively at her. “Hello.” they said softly. “Who are you?”

The woman blinked, and a shadow of a frown crossed her face but she did not respond.

“We won’t hurt you.” Fae called. Again, no response.

Iris lifted her hand to wave. The woman adjusted her gaze and locked onto Iris’ hand so fast it almost seemed predatory. Iris lowered her hand, uncertain and a little afraid.

Slowly, very slowly, the woman raised her own hand in imitation of Iris’ greeting before lowering it again to grip the rock. She eased forward and swam fluidly toward them before stopping the moment the four students took an automatic step back.

They watched one another for a long moment. There was a sudden distant whoop and a flash of shadow as somebody shot past the hidden cove on broomstick, completely unaware of its existence.

Instantly the woman vanished below the surface with barely a ripple. A fin flashed out of view and she was gone.

“That was…” Fae breathed, eyes shining as she turned to the others.

“Incredible!” Calix finished.

“Magical!” Arin chimed in.

“Oh my god… mermaids are real!” Iris squealed in delight. “They’re real and we met one!”

“Do you have any idea how insanely rare this is?” Fae asked them.

The four of them babbled in excitement, interrupting one another, finishing each other’s sentences and jumping from thought to thought.

Finally, on their way back up the secret passage their conversation had slowed to a sensible pace, partially helped by the steep climb that robbed them of their breath.

“She seemed kinda scared of us.” Calix observed.

“Yeah, almost as scared as we were of her.” Arin agreed. There was a pause as they made it up the last of the steep steps and onto the gentler slope marking the last section of the passage.

“I wonder why she came to the cove.” Fae pondered aloud. “It’s almost unheard of for merfolk to come to the coast let alone actually show themselves to people.”

Nobody had anything to say about that, especially as none of them knew anything much about mermaids at all.

“Library? After dinner?” Iris suggested.

“Library.” The others agreed.

They sat through the evening meal with difficulty. It went without saying that this secret had to be hidden from everyone else just as much as their secret cove. There were a lot of meaningful glances between the four of them and they all figeted restlessly.

Once they made it to the Library, Iris hurried straight over to Uncle Reggie who looked pleased to see them.

“What are you kids lookin’ for tonight then?” he asked.

“I just found out that mermaids are actually real!” Iris said, the others nodding. “I mean, I heard somebody at dinner talking about them…”

“We want to find out more about them.” Arin cut in, “The muggo stories my Dad told me seem pretty far-fetched to me.”

“You bet.” Uncle Reggie grinned, I know just the book for you.” He hurried off toward the back of the library and soon returned with a heavy tome which made an audible thud when he placed it on the desk.

The four friends leaned in to read the title; Extraordinary Sapients by Drusilla Fairchild. Calix reverentially opened the hard cover as Uncle Reggie sauntered away to help another group of students that had just entered the Library. The title page read; Extraordinary Sapients; A comprehensive exploration of intelligent magical beings, their cultures, languages and rights within the wizarding world.

It was a matter of moments before they found the index. Merfolk was between Merlion and Merrow on page 364. They flipped to the start of the Merfolk chapter eagerly and began reading the overview.

Chapter XXIII

Merfolk have long captivated both wizard and muggle alike, their hidden societies as mysterious as the deep waters they inhabit. This chapter examines the diverse lineages of merfolk—each adapted to its unique aquatic environment and cultural heritage. From the mist-shrouded lochs of Scotland to the sun-warmed reefs of northern Australia and the shadowed depths of polar seas, we find a complex mosaic of sentient beings whose lore challenges our simplistic notions of “mermaids” and “mermen.” In this chapter, we explore five distinct merfolk species.

1. The Cailleach Loch merfolk are steeped in ancient Celtic legend. Residing in secluded Scottish lochs, they are cloaked in myth and mystery. Their name—derived from the Gaelic term for “old woman” or “hag”—hints at a deep connection with nature’s cyclical transformations and the primordial forces of water and time. These Scottish merfolk known from the accounts in wizarding chronicles—most notably those encountered in the Hogwarts Black Lake—present a structured and communal society. These merfolk are robust and dark-featured, their skin bearing an almost iridescent quality in the ambient light of their underwater domain. Their society is hierarchically organized, with ancient customs dictating interactions both within the community and with the wizarding world. Although reticent to engage with humans, they have been known to negotiate terms of passage and safeguard ancient underwater relics. Their language, a melodic series of clicks and resonant hums, remains largely undeciphered by even the most accomplished magical linguists.

2. Venturing to the tropical shores of northern Australia, we encounter the Gundah—a lineage of merfolk thriving in warmer, shallower waters. The Gundah are renowned for their dark skin varying from shades of blue-grey to blue-black, vibrant body markings and the small dorsal fin on their lower backs. Their society is less formal than that of their Scottish cousins, characterised instead by a dynamic, almost improvisational social structure. Celebrations of life and the sea are frequent, with festivals drawing different tribes for hundreds of kilometers that include naming or coming of age ceremonies and the exchanging of gifts. Despite their playful nature, the Gundah are very wary of humans and are famous for their unyielding commitment to the preservation of their fragile marine ecosystem. They are known to be skilled warriors and will defend their families with deadly force.
3. In stark contrast to the sleek Gundah, the Gréigeall dwell in the colder, deeper waters that extend south of Australia toward the frigid margins of Antarctica. They are also found in the northern hemisphere off the coast of Iceland, Greenland, Alaska and northern Canada. These colossal, war-like merfolk are imposing in both stature and spirit. With dark, thick skin, layers of blubber to protect from from the cold and tails that resemble that of an Orca, the Gréigeall are warriors of the deep. Their culture is steeped in martial tradition, and their society is organized around clans that prize strength, honour, and tactical prowess. Gréigeall lore recounts epic battles against invasive sea creatures and rival clans, with each scar and tattoo on their massive bodies serving as a chronicle of valor. Despite their formidable reputation, they maintain a strict code of ethics and are known to engage in diplomatic talks when the balance of the marine realms is threatened.
4. Not all merfolk are bound by the solemnities of war or ancient ritual. The Fizzlefins represent the more effervescent, playful side of merfolk society. These diminutive beings—barely larger than a human toddler when full grown—are renowned for their buoyant spirits and irrepressible sense of humour. Dwelling in shallow coastal coves and hidden tidal pools, Fizzlefins are adept at weaving through kelp forests and coral mazes. Their society is marked by a loose, communal structure in which creativity and fun are highly prized. Stories tell of their mischievous pranks on both sea and surface creatures, and their gatherings are filled with laughter, song, and spontaneous displays of aquatic acrobatics. To the untrained eye, the Fizzlefins may appear as nothing more than enchanted sprites of the sea—but their role as cultural ambassadors is vital in maintaining the light-hearted side of merfolk heritage. 

5. In the crystalline waters of the Mediterranean and the Caribbean, the Nerevalis evoke the ethereal beauty that has given rise to the muggle myth of the mermaid—and the more ominous legend of the siren. Possessing a luminous, almost translucent quality, these merfolk are often adorned with shimmering fins and delicate, intricate markings that seem to glow beneath the water’s surface. The Nerevalis are deeply connected to the magical energies of their environment; their haunting songs, capable of both luring and healing, are considered one of nature’s purest expressions of enchantment. Their society is both mystical and democratic, where wisdom is transmitted through oral poetry and ritual dance. Although their appearances in muggle folklore are often tinged with both awe and trepidation, within the merfolk community the Nerevalis are celebrated as the keepers of ancient secrets and as mediators between the worlds above and below the water.

“She must be one of the Gundah.” Fae whispered, drawing her finger down the page before flipping to the more detailed section about the Gundah merfolk. The group continued reading quietly to themselves, amazed at what they learned about such an elusive species. “She’s a long way from home.” She murmured.

“It says here that gift giving is an integral part of Gundah culture. We should offer the one we saw a gift if we see her again, to show her we are friendly.” Arin suggested in a hushed voice.

“Great idea.” Calix agreed. “But what should we give her? I mean, she can get any shell she wants from the ocean. A lot of stuff we would use would be useless under the water.”

The four of them brainstormed for a while, coming up with a multitude of ideas yet nothing seemed right.

“A coral necklace?” Iris suggested.

“We can’t give her something that people have taken from the ocean, she will think its stolen.” Fae shook her head. “How about something human made? Like a compass?”

“Wouldn’t it rust pretty quick?” Arin asked.

“OK, what about some food to try? Chocolate?” Calix asked.

“We have no idea if it might be toxic to her. Merfolk diets are hugely different from ours.”

They continued on this vein for quite some time until Fae came up with a suggestion, they all agreed was perfect.

“I know! A moleskin pouch, one of those enchanted ones that only the owner can get anything out of it. It would be a piece of cake to charm it waterproof I’ll bet and it would be real useful to her.” Her eyes lit up as she shared her idea.

“Yes! Yes, perfect. I can get Mum to order one for me, I’ll tell her it’s for a friend’s birthday.” Arin agreed readily.

“We could ask Ms Teale to teach us the charm to waterproof it.” Arin suggested.

“I don’t know, I would rather we kept this secret. Surely we can learn it ourselves? I don’t think it’s a particularly hard spell.” Iris pondered.

“Yes!” Fae agreed, “Let’s go find a book on charms.” The four of them hurried to find a book on waterproofing charms, brimming with enthusiasm and excitement.

Chapter Text

“What the hell?!...”

Iris woke abruptly to Rosalie’s voice. It was daylight already and there was plenty of noise as the other girls began clambering out of bed and talking excitedly. Iris threw back her drapes and emerged into a dorm room that looked completely different than it had the night before.

“The door to the dorm corridor is gone!” Fae exclaimed. “Why is the door gone?”

“The windows are all different.” Iris stated the obvious. Instead of the sloped attic ceiling with the large window directly opposite her bed that gave them such a view of the stars at night, Iris was now looking over to her right, where the now rectangle windows looked out onto a second story veranda.

There was also a set of narrow double doors leading out to the veranda which Jessica was already throwing open and stepping out.

The others followed her, to gasp over the sharp drop below them to the ocean far, far below. Looking up and down the veranda she saw that other Uluru students of varying ages were also emerging, most still in their pajamas, to investigate. Arin waved and grinned, Danni behind them still rubbing sleep from their eyes.

“Howdy, neighbour!” Arin greeted them cheerfully, putting on a terrible impersonation of a deep south American accent.

“Alright everyone,” Sarissa was calling to them all, waving them back into their dorm rooms, “The House has changed layout again. Go inside and get dressed – it is going to be a long day. Excuse me, I am a Prefect. If you want any chance of making it to a single class on time today, let alone breakfast - you’d better get started!” she warned stragglers.

“Where’s the door to the corridor?” Fae asked again, looking around their dorm room as the girls all stepped back inside. Iris looked around, no internal door could be seen though they did have two beautiful big tapestries adorning their walls now. There also seemed to be a sixth wardrobe which wasn’t in their room yesterday.

“Hey, where’s Velia?” Fae asked and for the first time Iris realised that Velia’s bed was empty yet she hadn’t been checking out the veranda with them.

“Don't know, don't care.” Rosalie shrugged. "I need the dunny."

“But how? There’s no door.” Jessica said, throwing her hands up.

After several minutes of head scratching, going out onto the veranda which was empty and had no other exits then back in again and some searching, Fae discovered a door behind the smaller of the two tapestries. It didn’t open.

“The door handle is some kind of optical illusion.” She sighed.

“Are we meant to stay in here forever?” Jess asked rhetorically. Iris began wondering if they’d have to just go into somebody else’s dorm room and through their door when she pulled at the new wardrobe’s door only to discover it actually opened into the dorm corridor.

“Welcome to Narnia.” She announced, gesturing to the open wardrobe door.

“Who’s that?” Fae asked.

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”

“Meanwhile, I need to find the bathroom.” Rosalie grabbed her things and hurried forward, she and Jess exited together clutching their toiletry bags, towels thrown over their shoulders.

Sarissa was right. It was very disorienting to discover that instead of turning right to head to their Common Room, they now had to turn left. To see that the entire Common Room itself now had lower ceilings, different window placements and another door leading out to the veranda.

“This is so weird.” Fae muttered. “Hearing about it just doesn’t prepare you for it actually happening.”

“Alright, everyone?” Iluka greeted them, “Everyone OK? Find the bathrooms without any trouble?”

There was a chorus of “Yes.” and nodding heads. Iluka smiled kindly at the younger students.

“Our room has a fake door, and a wardrobe which is the actual door.” Fae told her.

“Don’t worry too much, the House likes its little tricks. You’ll find your way around. Teachers will be lenient today as everyone adjusts to the new layout.” Iluka assured them before hurrying off when she noticed a girl in the corner in tears, her long silver-streaked braid swinging.

“Please tell me none of you tried to map the House.” Sarissa reappeared, hands on hips as she gazed around at everyone within earshot. They all shook their heads and peered around at one another to see if a culprit was in their midst.

“Wait, so the House literally rearranged itself in the night because somebody tried to draw a map of it?” Calix asked.

“Yes, as we have been constantly telling you.” Sarissa sighed. “The House can’t be mapped. It doesn’t like it. It will change the entire layout of the whole school if somebody tries.”

“Year 7’s, if you’re ready now come with me to find the Hall. It might take a while.” she began bossily, rounding up every younger student she could find. “I strongly advise you all to bring your books and bags with you to breakfast. Don’t waste time having to come back for them.”

“I’m Year 8!” one boy protested indignantly from where he lounged on a sofa showing no inclination to follow the others to breakfast, when Sarissa levelled him with a glare.

“And you’re still an idiot.” She snapped back. “You know how this goes, get a move on!”

The group followed Sarissa to the Common Room door and climbed down their spiral staircase as it descended to the next floor down.

“Here, see?” Sarissa announced, “Still a candleholder to open our Common Room door and it still has the Uluru eagle etched on it.” She glared around making sure everyone saw and acknowledged her.

“This looks like the entry hall.” Arin said gazing around, and indeed it did. As the spiral staircase retracted silently back into the ceiling to vanish without a trace, Iris noticed that the main front doors and the great fireplace of the entry hall was just off to her left.

“That make it easy find our way back to the dorms, at least.” Sarissa agreed before marching in the opposite direction, the younger students straggling behind.

It took a while. Sarissa and the group of students she shepherded around the school managed to find the Charms corridor, several store rooms, the kitchens and Laundry room which were now down in the cellars and the Art Room which was now located just inside the front door where the school Administration Office used to be.

“Oh no…” Sarissa moaned quietly. “Miss Crane will be spitting chips!” The Year 8 boy with them screwed up his face unhappily.

They met several other groups of confused students, including several Wollumbin students who reported that their Common Room and dorms was now in one of the attics, and they now had to cross the roof over the east wing to get to and from them.

It took over an hour for the confusion to settle. Eventually they found the Main Hall. With a sigh of relief, Sarissa and her group stepped through the open doorway and found their seats under the Uluru banner. Iris looked around and wasn’t surprised to see that very few students were here ahead of them. Several teachers had not yet made an appearance though breakfast had already been served.

“Well,” Fae said, sliding into her seat. “That’s quite enough excitement for me for one day.”

Brianna Fraser, the red-haired girl they had met their first evening at Nyambi seated herself close by.

“It took me no less than 4 wrong turns and bribing ol’ Crane to find my way here.” She huffed, looking around the Hall. “I hope my sister hasn’t had this much trouble.”

“I don’t think we’ve met your sister?” Arin asked.

“No, I guess not. Celeste is in Wollumbin… oh, there she is.” Brianna waved to another girl who shared her startling red hair, who waved back.

“How’s Crotchety Crane this morning, then?” Sarissa having overheard, asked Brianna. Brianna’s face fell.

“Awful.” She said, “I’d warn everyone that the old bat is as mad as a cut snake if I was you.”

“Who?” Iris asked, confused.

“Ms Crane, she is the school Administrator and she’s a nightmare.” Sarissa warned them. “Don’t ever cross her. Always do what she asks you and keep out of her way as much as possible.”

At that moment, a slender figure with a no-nonsense navy skirt, wearing glasses on a chain and her iron-grey hair carefully and meticulously wound up into a chignon marched into the Hall from a new side door, her lined face creased into a disagreeable frown.

Sarissa tipped her head in the old woman’s direction and said very quietly; “Speak of the devil.”

“Where is the Headmistress!” she demanded of their Potions teacher as she marched up to the staff table. Mr Daku smiled disarmingly.

“Ah, Myrtle. I am afraid she is indisposed at the moment.” He replied politely, “Dealing with a missing Library I believe.”

“I don’t know how I am expected to work in such conditions!” Myrtle Crane drew herself up and looked down her considerable nose at him. “I have a huge amount of paperwork to get through and my office has disappeared, again!”

“I am sure it will turn up.” Mr Daku replied mildly before sipping his steaming coffee. “Have you tried the back courtyard? I understand a new door has appeared in the west wall out there.”

“I shouldn’t have to! At the very least, the Headmistress should safeguard the vital work I do by ensuring my office is left out of these ridiculous rearrangements!” she responded furiously. Calix put a finger in his ear and twiddled it. Myrtle Crane’s voice was very nearly shrill enough to cut glass More and more students entering the Hall were watching the exchange with trepidation.

“Would you like my help?” Mr Daku asked, standing. “I am sure between the two of us we can locate your office again before morning tea time.”

“That would be appreciated.” Myrtle Crane sniffed, his offer mollifying her somewhat. The two adults left the Hall together just as Betty Kitur came in the other way talking in a low voice with their Charms teacher, Ms Teale.

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Calix remarked, “I am staying the hell away from her.”

“Velia isn’t here.” Fae piped up, frowning. “Sarissa, have you seen her this morning?”

“Actually no.” Sarissa replied. “I know she went to bed with you lot but I haven’t seen her at all this morning. I should have asked Iluka but she will be off the clock now and probably already gone home. If she could find the active Floo.”

“Maybe she got lost trying to find the Hall?” Arin suggested.

“If she isn’t here by the time we finish eating, I will report to Mr Giovanni and organise a search party. Don’t worry too much, there will probably be several people to find today.”

“This happens a lot?” Iris asked.

“Every single time the House changes itself around. We usually end up having to search for at least four people.” She shrugged. “Nobody comes to any harm.”

“I can’t believe this place!” an angry voice rang out. Iris was not surprised when she looked up to see it was Kendra making a fuss. “Not only will we have to hunt down our lessons today but I was in the bathroom this morning and the toilets were literally singing scales! Badly!” she griped.

“Right?” her friend sat beside her and was only just audible as the noise level in the Hall picked up, “The mirror told me to do something about my hair! I didn’t think talking mirrors were allowed in a school.”

“You should do something about your hair, Maria!” Kendra snapped back at the other girl, clearly in a foul mood. Maria gave her a hurt look but didn’t say anything.

The arrival of the morning postal owls and the naughty magpies distracted everyone from their conversations, as the birds began landing beside, or on, their owners. Iris didn’t have a letter from Obi Wan that morning she was relieved to see. She gave him a gentle scritch in his favourite spot on the back of his neck and sent him on his way with a smile.

“Look, Mum sent the pouch!” Arin said excitedly, quickly untying the package and opening it to show the others. A new, smart looking leather pouch with a braided strap was revealed. Arin demonstrated that it couldn’t be opened until they put it on. Calix had a go trying to open it with Arin wearing the pouch around their neck with no luck.

“Perfect! I reckon we will have that charm down by now.” Iris said, turning to Fae, “I reckon you should do it Fae, you’re the best at this one.”

“Jo-Jo?” Bertie the talking magpie hopped up and down the table, neatly dancing around the various dishes. “Where Jo-Jo?”

“Are you looking for Josiah, Bertie?” Iris asked the magpie kindly and the black and white bird skipped further down toward her.

“Where Jo-Jo?” he asked again.

“I don’t know, Bertie. He will be here soon.” Arin assured the bird.

“Jo-Jo lost?” Bertie asked.

“Yeah, the school changed itself around. It might take him a little while to find us in this new spot.” Calix answered him.

Bertie considered this for a moment, cocking his head to one side and turning his beak away to get a better look at Iris, Arin, Fae and Calix.

“You snooze, you lose.” Bertie announced, and immediately got stuck in to the nearest dish of bacon.

“Bertie! No!” Iris shooed him off trying to sound stern but too busy laughing. “That’s not for you!”

Bertie skipped out of reach, his eyes twinkling cheekily before launching himself into the air and flapping away with his prize dangling from his beak.

When breakfast ended and there was still no sign of Velia, Sarissa got up and approached the teacher’s table to speak to their Head of House, Mr Giovanni. He leaned forward, frowning in concern as she relayed her concern to him.

Sarissa returned and announced to the Uluru table at large; “This morning’s first lesson has been delayed by half an hour to allow everyone time to find the new classroom locations. We know that the Charms corridor is just off the Entry Hall, and Mr Giovanni says the Defense classroom hasn’t turned up yet, so everyone is to meet him on the west lawn for those classes today. Some of the staff and our Head Girl and Boy will be looking for those students who seem to be lost. Now get on to class, all of you.”

Everyone rose and began chatting among themselves. Nearby, other Prefects were telling the other House tables the same thing. Iris and her friends had taken Sarissa’s advice earlier and brought their bags with them to breakfast, so using a quick teeth-cleaning charm, they were ready to locate their first class of the day – Transfiguration.

“I swear we’ve been down here before.” Fae grumbled some twenty minutes later as the four of them entered another hallway that looked identical to one they’d traversed earlier.

“Nah, that one looked the same but it was downstairs. We haven’t been along here yet.” Calix replied.

“Oh shi-sugarplums!” Arin suddenly said. “Our cove! The entrance has bound to have moved. How will we possibly find it again?”

The others stopped to stare at Arin in horror.

“We just got the pouch, too!” Calix moaned. “What if the secret entrance doesn’t even open the same way anymore? We’ll never find it again.”

“We can’t worry about that right now…” Iris began, before stopping dead and turning her head. “Wait, can you hear that?”

“What?” Calix asked.

“Shh.” Fae shushed him, turning her own head this way and that.

“Somebody is crying.” Arin said, their face radiating concern. “Come on.”

They followed the sound down the corridor, into another room and out the other side and down a short flight of steps before stopping once more to try and work out where the sound had come from. It was silent.

A quiet sobbing started again, much closer this time.

“Hello?” Arin called, “Are you OK?”

“Who… who’s that?” a small trembling voice replied after a moment, followed by another sob.

“Velia?” Iris called, recognizing her voice. “It’s Iris. Where are you?”

For a few moments they only heard the intake of a ragged breath, before Velia positively howled in distress – her voice coming from a half-open door off to their left that was partially obscured by a big old bookcase.

“Noooo! Mama no! Don’t go! Mama!”

Spurred into action, the four of them sprinted to the door and shoved it all the way open, only to stare at the scene before them in horror.

Velia was kneeling in the dust, her back to them as she screamed and cried. Before her lay a dead body of a woman. Sunken eyes stared upward vacantly; the emaciated chest didn’t move. The woman’s skin was yellowed and stretched tight across the bones, deep hollows under eyes and an ugly pattern of blackened veins stretched up the side of her neck.

“Velia!” Iris broke out of the daze first and launched forward to crouch by the other girl and grasp Velia’s shoulders. The smaller girl turned and buried her face into Iris’ chest, wailing and sobbing as she gripped Iris with vice-like hands. Iris wrapped her arms around her distraught dorm-mate and without her willing it, her eyes were dragged back toward the body of the woman.

Who wasn’t there. Instead, Iris saw an all-too familiar pair of boots, and her eyes dragged up to where the figure towered above her, his face red with fury.

“D… Dad?” she spluttered in her shock.

“You’re coming home! Right now!” he roared, “I will not have my child in danger or learning to perform a bunch of dangerous magic tricks!”

“Dad! I…” Iris began protesting, barely able to get her words out in her panic.

“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more about it. You’re coming home with me right now.” Her father growled, advancing toward her menacingly.

“Mr Dursley!” Arin stepped between them, bravely standing before the furious, towering adult and speaking as calmly as they could under the circumstances, “Please, lets take a breath and…”

Iris goggled in shock as her father suddenly twisted and shimmered before her and in a second had become a huge Great White Shark, thrashing its enormous body on the stone floor and snapping at Arin furiously who scrambled backwards and tripped over Iris and Velia, falling backwards onto them.

Calix launched himself forward to grab Arin and Iris’ hands to help pull them safely away from the thrashing shark. Which shimmered, twist and became… the room was plunged into complete darkness and Calix whimpered.

“What the hell is going on?” Iris screamed, regaining her voice and turning this way and that to try to see something, anything. She couldn’t even see Velia or Arin’s hands that she grasped firmly in her own so as not to lose them.

“It must be a Boggart!” Fae’s voice cried urgently. “Come on, we have to get out of here! I don’t know the spell to get rid of it…”

The light suddenly flooded back into the room. In front of Fae’s terrified gaze, a copy of The Bush Telegraph newspaper floated in the air before them. A huge black glaring headline announced; Mysterious Disappearance Of Harper Family Haunts Community. Beneath the headline was a moving black and white photograph of several Aurors going in and out of a house’s front door looking very grim.

“No! No! Mama! Mum! I have to go home!” Fae cried, her eyes wide and distraught. Iris had never heard her friend sound so desperate before. She was on her feet now, and reached for Fae’s hand.

“Its not real, Fae.” She told her, voice trembling. “Remember? You said it was a Bog-something…”

Fae turned to look at Iris, her pupils blown and her face etched with despair. Fae began to cry, great racking sobs as Iris towed her friend backward. The group of them clung together and the newspaper followed them floating eerily in the air. Then it began to shimmer and twist again.

“Don’t look!” Iris screamed, turning away and half dragging Fae and Velia with her. “We have to get out of here!”

The doorway was suddenly filled with the unmistakable shapes of Mr Giovanni and a couple of older students. Iris had never felt so relived to see a teacher in all her life. Sarissa and two other older students peered anxiously around him.

The teacher strode forward and around where Iris and the others now huddled together, facing the thing that twisted once more and became a crying woman screaming for help, unbelievably loud and shrill. Iris and the others clamped their hands over their ears and Iris squeezed her eyes shut.

The sound stopped, and they jumped as Mr Giovanni put his hand on Iris’ shoulder.

“It’s alright now. Its gone.” He told them quietly. It was only then that Iris realised she was almost hyperventilating. “Come along, you need the Sick Bay, and fortunately we found it whilst we were looking for you.” He told them.

Sarissa was already reaching for her cousin and Fae gratefully flung herself into her arms. The older two students Iris recognised as the Head Girl and Boy, though she couldn’t remember their names. They looked concerned, and ushered the five younger students down the corridor toward the Sick Bay’s new location.

Ten minutes later, all five of them were seated on comfortable chairs or the edge of a couple of beds in the Sick Bay and munching chocolate as Mr Giovanni watched on. Healer Karami was bustling around them in a businesslike manner, checking each of them once again to ensure everyone was recovering from the ordeal.

“What was that thing?” Calix asked between mouthfuls of chocolate.

“A Boggart.” Healer Karami told him, before casting some kind of diagnostic spell on Velia who still looked very pale and drawn. “They are a shapeshifting creature that tend to hide in dark places, mostly small confined spaces. The House shifting must have disturbed and confused it.”

“That explains why it kept changing.” Arin still looked rather rattled.

“But why did it change into…” Iris asked, remembering with a spike of anxiety in her belly the absolute fury on her father’s face, how it twisted with disgust when he mentioned magic.

“They can sense your deepest fears, that is what they change into.” Mr Giovanni told them. “It will become what you fear most, then they feed on your terror and grow stronger.”

“You’re all doing very well, considering.” Healer Karami announced, adjusting her hajib slightly. “Though you have all had a terrible shock. I want you all to spend the rest of the morning recovering. I’ll notify the staff not to expect you in classes before lunch. And eat that chocolate! It’s good for when you’ve had a bit of a shock.”

She went to her desk, wrote three quick notes and then performed a spell which had the notes folding themselves into paper airplanes and zooming off on their own, out the door and out of sight.

“I’ll see you all back to your Common Room, and then I must go to my classes.” Mr Giovanni told them, signaling to the five of them to follow him.

They all followed him silently, mostly lost in their own thoughts. Iris hoped her friends weren’t too upset that they all now knew one another’s deepest fears. Iris knew hers of course, that her father would take her out of Nyambi and the magical world forever and would despise her for being magical. It seemed Arin was scared of sharks, Calix of the dark and Fae of her family vanishing.

Iris glanced back at Velia who didn’t seem to notice. She was just following the group, eyes on the floor. Iris supposed the dead woman must have been Velia’s mother, and wondered why Velia had reason to be scared of her dying.

“Will you be able to make your way to the Hall for lunch on your own?” Mr Giovanni asked as he pulled on the candlestick and the spiral staircase began lowering itself out of the ceiling of the entrance hall.

“Yes, it’s pretty easy from here.” Fae answered.

“Right then, rest up and I will see you all at lunch.” Their teacher told them before turning on his heel and striding off down the corridor, his light summer robes fluttering from his shoulders.

The five of them climbed up into the empty Common Room in silence, then unanimously chose a comfortable pair of couches to sit on. They sat quietly for a few minutes, munching obediently on what was left of their chocolate. Iris was feeling much better already and she saw the colour coming back into Velia’s cheeks.

“Thanks.” Velia said quietly. “For saving me.”

“I don’t know if we did any actual saving.” Iris told her. “It was Mr Giovanni who got rid of that Boggart thing.”

“Yes, but you all came to help. You didn’t just leave me there.” She replied.

“Of course we didn’t.” Fae said. “Anyone would have helped you.”

“I don’t think so. You know who my Grandfather is, you saw him drop me off?” she asked.

“No?” Calix said slowly. “I mean, I saw you arrive but I haven’t the faintest idea who he is. Is he famous?” he asked, glancing around at the others.

“I have no clue.” Fae shrugged. Arin shook their head too.

“He’s Omor Barbenaegra.” Velia told them, looking worried. The rest of them shrugged, it seemed nobody knew who Velia’s grandfather was.

“He’s known for Dark Magic?” Velia looked around them all again. “Went to prison for hexing some muggles and the Aurors sent to investigate? Got out about 10 years ago?”

“Never heard of him.” Arin said. “Besides, just because he’s your Grandad that doesn’t mean you’re the same as him.”

“Wait. Really?” Velia looked shocked now.

“Deadset. I’ve never seen you cast Dark Magic.” Iris agreed firmly. “We won’t hold a dodgy family member against you.”

“Even though I live with him? Even though he basically raised me?” Velia asked, prodding the topic as though she couldn’t help it, like somebody with a recently lost tooth might prod the hole left behind.

“Look, do you plan to curse any of us?” Fae asked, matter of factly.

“No!” Velia replied, horrified at the very idea.

“Well then, we won’t hold your Grandad against you.” She confirmed.

Velia slumped in her seat beside Iris. “Plenty of other people do. Jessica and Rosalie won’t talk to me since they heard some Year 9’s talking about Grandfather in our second week.”

“What a load of cr-“ Iris began indignantly.

“Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about what the Boggart became.” Velia suddenly pleaded, intense.

“We won’t.” Iris and Arin replied in unison with Fae and Calix agreeing.

“I don’t want anyone to know mine either.” Calix’ face flushed a little darker. “The dark, I ask you! So embarrassing.”

“None of us will tell anyone else.” Arin declared. “We’re friends, and friends keep each other’s secrets.”

“We are?” Velia asked.

“Of course we are, you drongo.” Fae grinned. “Friends save each other from scary monsters, too.”

“Friends.” Velia smiled. “I’ve never had friends before.”

Chapter Text

“Is it OK if I ask why you live with your grandfather?” Iris asked Velia gently.

“Yes, I suppose.” Velia shrugged after swallowing the last of her chocolate.

The four of them waited patiently, giving Velia a minute or two to gather her thoughts for what would surely be a very difficult conversation.

“My mother…” she swallowed then bravely continued, “She’s very ill. Nobody has been able to diagnose her or cure her and she has been to so many Healing specialists. She… she has been sick as long as I can remember and she is getting worse.”

“Oh… Velia. I am so sorry.” Fae leaned forward from her position on the couch opposite and reached out to grasp Velia’s hand. “I can’t image how awful that must be.”

Velia nodded and squeezed Fae’s hand briefly before pulling it gently back and folding it in her lap with her other hand. She kept her eyes on them as she continued her story.

“My Father went missing around the time she fell ill. Grandfather said he must have left us like a coward when Mama fell ill and moved abroad. Mother always told me he would never do such a thing and she has always hoped he would return to us.”

The others stared, unable to think of anything comforting to say. Each unable to fathom how difficult life must be for Velia given the circumstances. Velia tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“Grandfather was released from prison early for good behaviour and also on compassionate grounds, to care for us. He came and moved us to his home when I was about two years old. Mother was already struggling to care for me due to her illness then.”

“Grandfather tutored me all my life so far, he would not have me mingle with muggles or attend a school at that age. I have met a few others our own age. Those that Grandfather deem appropriate company. Kendra Gaunt, Maria Silvu, the Filch brothers, and some purebloods from Romania where Grandfather was born. I was never allowed to visit anywhere unchaperoned.” Velia told them.

“You’re allowed to come to school here, though.” Calix said, half questioning.

“Yes, Grandfather says he has too much to do, too many business meetings and vital travel to continue my schooling and initially wanted to send me to Durmstrang or possibly Koldovstoretz but mother insisted I remain in the country and so eventually he agreed to send me here.” Velia answered.

“How come he dropped you off, and you didn’t come on the bus?” Arin asked curiously.

“To ‘minimise my exposure to unsuitable influences’.” Velia quoted, “Grandfather said that a bus full of students without any appropriate supervision was no place for a high-born witch and he would see me safely to school himself.”

“So, he’s really strict.” Iris surmised.

“Very.” Velia agreed, “He would have a fit if he saw I had made friends with you all, he isn’t a big fan of muggleborns and half-bloods.”

“Sounds like he wanted you to be in Kendra’s little crew.” Calix rolled his eyes.

“Indeed, he would like that very much. I have spoken to Kendra on occasion and that is what I have told him in my letter home. I am just much too busy concentrating on my studies to bother with distractions.” She smiled suddenly, eyes twinkling with mischief. The expression transformed Velia’s whole face and Iris couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you want to pretend in public that we aren’t friends?” Arin asked suddenly, “I mean, what if Kendra starts telling her parents and they tell your grandfather that you’re hanging out with us?”

“Oh no,” Velia waved the suggestion away. “I am not concerned. I will just tell him it is a social experiment so I can observe and learn the differences between a properly brought-up witch or wizard, and those from what he would consider a lesser background.”

"If you’re sure? We don’t want to get you into any trouble.” Arin was concerned.

“I am sure. It will be fine.” Velia confirmed.

“Where do you live, then?” Iris asked her.

“Grandfather owns a waterfront house in Sydney, in the same area as the Gaunts. There are a few magical homes there, the Muggles think it’s a nature reserve and there are all kinds of muggle repellant and security charms over the whole area.”

“You guys drove all the way over from Sydney?” Calix asked incredulously, “That must have taken days!”

“No,” Velia chuckled, “Grandfather Floo’d us to the Mayor’s offices in Rocky Road, then we flew down here in a car he borrowed from the Mayor.” She explained.

“You what? Flew to Rocky Road then flew here in a car?” Iris was confused.

“Not flew, floo.” Fae explained, “You basically throw floo powder into a fireplace and say the name of the place you’re going then step into the fire. It spits you out the other side where you wanted to go. It’s a very fast way to travel.”

“And nobody gets burned? You can go anywhere?”

“Nobody gets burned, its magical fire – that is what the powder is for.” Velia giggled.

“And not just anywhere, the fireplace you want to go to has to be connected to the network, and open for visitors.” Fae clarified. Iris considered this as Calix asked about the flying car.

Eventually the bell to signal the end of morning classes and the start of the lunch hour rang and the five of them rose from their seats, each feeling much more cheerful. One by one, they climbed down the spiral staircase and headed to the new location of the Main Hall.

Fae, Velia and Calix led the way, discussing the Coronavirus pandemic and exchanging opinions on whether or not the wizarding world needed to be concerned. Arin and Iris brought up the rear, talking about flying cars and the possibilities that opened up.

Iris noticed that they were tailing further behind their friends but when she went to hurry to catch them, Arin reached out and touched her arm.

“What about the Cove?” they asked in a low voice, glancing ahead to ensure the others weren’t paying attention. “Should we tell Velia?”

“We did promise to keep it between just the four of us that found it…” Iris responded, unsure what the answer should be.

“But Velia is our friend now, won’t she feel left out if we have a secret and don’t share it?”

“She would. I know I would. But on the other hand, we all promised. And we’re friends with Eddie too and haven’t told him.”

“I guess.” Arin chewed their bottom lip, uncertain.

“Let’s check with the others when we can, if we are going to tell her about it I think it should only be if all four of us agree.” Iris suggested. Arin nodded in agreement.

Lunch was noisier than breakfast had been, as most students knew how to find the Hall fairly easily by now. Not to mention, the magpies were back and the Hall’s noise level always went up a few decibels when they fluttered in.

There was no opportunity to speak to Fae and Calix without Velia hearing through lunch, so Iris put the Cove out of her mind for the moment. Once seated, Iris found herself next to Hugo who squeezed in between her and Brianna Fraser. He grinned at them, his ice blue eyes and white-blonde hair quite startling up close.

“So, I hear you all met a Boggart?” he quizzed, “What did it look like?”

“I’m not telling you what my worst fears are, thanks.” Iris snipped back, affronted.

“Nah! Not what it turned into, what did it look like before it turned into anything?” he clarified, unbothered by her tone.

“Um…”

“Don’t be stupid, Hiphip. Nobody knows what Boggarts look like before they take a form.” Another boy Iris couldn’t remember the name of said from across the table and two seats further up.

“Oh, right.” Hugo responded cheerily, “Never mind then. Was the choccy any good? Got any left?” he asked Iris, unrepentant. Surprised by this sudden change of tack Iris couldn’t think what to say right away. Fortunately, she was saved from needing to reply by the approach of Mr Giovanni.

“Ms Teale told me about you being out of bounds, this morning Hugo.” Their Defense teacher stopped and folded his arms.

“Shame, bro.” Hugo grinned up at him, “I was hoping she forgave and forgot.”

“No such luck. I also know this is the fourth time this week you’ve been somewhere you shouldn’t be. Do you have a bowel problem we should know about?”

“No, sir. Just a delicate constitution.” Hugo responded, unconcerned.

“I see. Detention with me at 4pm please. Meet me here.” Mr Giovanni responded dryly.

“OK, sir.” Hugo agreed readily, flipped their teacher a lazy salute then got up out of his seat and settled himself further along the Uluru table with his usual friends.

“How are you five doing?” Mr Giovanni asked Iris and the others. They all told him they were much better, thank you and ready for afternoon classes. Mr Giovanni looked over them one last time as though assessing for himself if they were indeed recovered and fit for class before nodding and moving on.

“Where was Hugo that he got detention?” Calix wanted to know.

“Apparently he was caught coming out of the girl’s toilets upstairs early this morning.” Sarissa overheard and answered him.

“Why was he in there?”

“Who knows.” Sarissa shrugged before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Oh! I heard earlier that Salome Burton was given detention!” Brianna Fraser suddenly joined in the conversation.

“Salome?” Josiah repeated, shocked. Sarissa began choking on her mouthful of sandwich. He helpfully reached over and pounded her on the back, dislodging Bertie who flapped his wings to regain his balance and resettled on Josiah’s shoulder with an annoyed “Oi!”

“I know, right?” Brianna replied.

“Who?” Fae asked, glancing at her older cousin.

“Salome Burton is Year 9, same as us.” Brianna explained, pointing to herself, Josiah and Sarissa who was now wiping her streaming eyes and reaching for a glass of water.

“She’s a total teacher’s pet. She’s nice and all but a huge nerd, and always obeys each and every rule to the letter.”

“Why does she have detention? What could she have possibly done?” Josiah asked Brianna who was enjoying sharing this juicy piece of gossip.

“Myrtle Crane spotted her wearing shorts.” Brianna replied. “She was already pissy because her office is now in one of the sheds out by the Owlery and Salome was the first student to cross the stroppy old bat’s path.”

“Oh lordy.” Sarissa interjected, finally having cleared her throat and got her voice back. “Poor Salome. I hope her parents don’t go too hard on her about this.”

“What’s so bad about wearing shorts?” Iris asked.

“Did shorts appear anywhere on your school uniform list?” Brianna asked rhetorically. “It’s against the dress code, technically. Girls are supposed to wear skirts and only boys can wear shorts.”

“That’s dumb.” Calix stated, Arin and Fae, both wearing shorts nodded fervently.

“Most of the teachers don’t really care but when Myrtle is in a bad mood, she will get you on any stupid little rule she possibly can.” Brianna muttered darkly. “She tried to give Celeste detention once for not answering when spoken to, and she knows Celeste is deaf and hadn’t even realised Myrtle was behind her. My Dad came and yelled at Brocklehurst about it when he found out.”

“Am I going to get into trouble?” Fae asked, glancing around nervously.

“Just stay out of Myrtle Crane’s way and you should be fine.” Sarissa advised. “Shouldn’t be too hard now her office has been banished to the sheds.”

A few students sniggered. Clearly, Ms Crane was extremely unpopular amongst the student body.

That afternoon, they thoroughly enjoyed their Herbology class. The seedlings were growing and the Snapwood Ferns which grew quicker than the others were nearly ready for their first harvest. They spent time checking on and caring for their growing plants before Betty called them back into Shadehouse one to introduce them to a new plant none of them had seen before – the Sugarpop Cherry.

Their excellent mood from the afternoon was ruined shortly after the end of classes. Iris, Fae, Velia, Calix and Arin were walking together chatting happily heading to the Hall for an afternoon snack, when a gruff voice stopped them in their tracks on the lower veranda.

“May I ask why you two are not in correct uniform?” They turned to see a staff member they had seen around the school often enough but never had a class with, Mr Harrow the stern Arithmancy teacher, approaching. None of them knew what to say.

“Well?” he demanded. “I want to know why you two girls are wearing shorts, and your skirt is rolled much too short.” He glared at them. Iris hastily unrolled the waistband of her school skirt so it fell just past her knees again and smoothed it down. The old man nodded approvingly.

“I am non binary, sir.” Arin replied politely.

“I have neither the time nor the patience for that nonsense.” Mr Harrow snapped. “You might have been exposed to all kinds of modern ideas at home but here at this school, we follow tradition. You are a young lady and I expect you to behave as such.”

Arin blushed fiercely and looked down to try and hide the tears that suddenly pooled in their eyes. Iris’ mouth dropped open in outrage.

“Now, I shall allow you three off with a warning this time seeing as school is finished for the day. But mark my words, there will be consequences should I catch any of you not following dress code again.” And with that, he passed them and continued on into Nyambi House.

“Are you OK?” Iris was already wrapping an arm around Arin’s shoulders. Arin sniffed and wiped their eyes, fighting to control their emotions.

“What an arseho-“ Calix hissed but was interrupted by Velia.

“He sounds just like Grandfather.” She said in disgust.

“C’mon, nobody will say anything now classes are done for the day.” Fae said gently, and with them all doing their best to reassure and cheer Arin up they made their way to the Hall for afternoon tea.

“What’s up with you?” Josiah asked them when they joined him and some of the others for a snack in the Hall.

“Mr Harrow.” Fae growled. “Had a go at us for wearing shorts and basically told Arin there’s no such thing as being non-binary.”

“He didn’t!” Sarissa interjected, having heard as she approached. “Report him! I’ll come with you if you like…”

“No, don’t.” Arin replied, having regained control of their face and tear-ducts. “I want to do Arithmancy in a few years, and I don’t want him to hate me before I even start his class.”

“Are you sure? Because I know Mrs Brocklehurst won’t let that slide.” Sarissa asked.

“I am sure. Besides, he’s just one grumpy old fart. I don’t care.” Arin sniffed and attempted a watery smile.

Iris was pretty certain Arin cared a great deal, but she respected her friend’s decision to handle it themselves and not involve the Headmistress. For now.

“He and Crane have been looking pretty cosy this year.” Josiah pondered, “I bet the miserable old bat and the miserable old coot have been exchanging ideas on how to make most of us as miserable as they are.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Iris replied, watching as Mr Giovanni crooked a finger at Hugo who was now at a different table to follow him to detention. An older girl wearing shorts also followed, looking dejected and Iris supposed she must be Salome Burton.

The new and thus far unknown location of their secret passage to their secret cove had been playing on Iris’ mind on and off all day but it wasn’t until that evening when she found herself alone in the girls’ bathroom with Fae that Iris finally had a chance to talk to her about whether or not they should bring Velia in on the secret.

“What do you think?” she asked her friend as she toweled her hair dry.

“It’s a tough one.” Fae acknowledged. “To be fair, we don’t know Velia all that well yet and we did promise to keep it between just the four of us who found it.”

“Yeah we did.” Iris allowed.

“I asked Calix earlier, and he feels much the same. We should keep it to ourselves for now and I guess re-evaluate later on. Especially about the mermaid, she clearly doesn’t want a bunch of kids hunting around the coast looking for her.” Fae went on.

“OK, I think that works.” Iris agreed, “We don’t even know if we can find the entrance again anyway.”

“I had an idea about that, actually.” Fae turned, her expression excited.

“Yeah?”

“Well, even though the school is all moved around, the secret entrance to our Common Room is exactly the same – a candlestick with the eagle etched on the base, we use it the same way to summon the spiral staircase.”

“Yes, true!” Iris suddenly caught on to what Fae was suggesting.

“I asked Eddie at recess and he said their method of entering Kakadu is also the same though he wouldn’t tell me what it was, so they can find their common room again. So I think it’s fair to assume that all secret entrances have the same thing to mark the entrance, and the same way of opening it even if they’re in new locations.”

“Fae, you genius!” Iris squealed and hugged her friend swiftly. “So we just keep an eye out for the ocean frieze and make sure somebody has a shell with them!”

“Exactly.” Fae confirmed with a grin.

“You better hurry up and cast that waterproof charm on the pouch Arin’s mum sent.” Iris laughed, “We will need to give it as a gift soon after all.”

For the next couple of weeks, they grew accustomed to the new layout of the school. It didn’t really surprise Iris that they didn’t ever find out who tried to map the school and made it change around but it seemed that whoever it was had learned their lesson as the school didn’t rearrange itself again.

The weather continued hot though the worst sting of the summer (or Birak as Fae called it) had faded from the sun and some evenings and early mornings were just about cold enough for a warmer layer as the season of Bunuru came to a close with the month of March and Djuran began at the start of April.

The friends had been keeping a close eye out for the ocean frieze which hopefully marked the opening of their secret passage but they had yet to find it. Iris was beginning to think that the mermaid had probably moved on by now and they wouldn’t see her again.

April 1^st fell on a Wednesday and they awoke to the usual ocean-views from every window Nyambi possessed. It was a bright, sunny day and the perfect weather for harvesting the Seathistles. Betty Kitur had promised a rearrangement of their schedule for the day so that they’d have Herbology at sunset in order to complete their harvest at the optimal time and observe their glowing leaves.

This meant that they all had a free period right after lunch. Velia wanted to go to the Library to research rare illnesses in magical people and Fae offered to go with her. The others were going on a serious hunt for the entrance to their secret cove.

Iris was washing her hands in the Uluru girl’s toilets before heading out to breakfast, chatting with Velia and Fae when the humming began. The sound seemed to come from the cubicles behind them. Within moments it had escalated into a rousing rendition of a song unfamiliar to Iris and her two friends.

She froze, staring as the toilet lids began to snap open and shut in perfect sychnonisation and she realised half amused, half in horror that it was the toilets themselves producing the sound.

  ‘E Ihowa Atua

O Nga iwi matou

Ata whakarangona…’

“What the hell…?” Iris heard Fae gasp out between hysterical giggles. The nearest toilet lid clapped enthusiastically, a surprisingly fair baritone voice emanating from the bowl.

Velia, who had been combing her hair nearby squeaked in surprise. “Are they… are they actually singing?”

The door to the bathroom swung open revealing Sarissa and Brianna who goggled in amazement. “What did you do?” Sarissa demanded.

“Nothing!” Fae replied, “They just started doing it on their own!”

Once in the Uluru Common Room, Calix hurried over and asked if their toilets had started singing by chance? Everyone could hear the now muffled strains of the song in the Common Room so it was safe to assume all the toilets in Uluru were similarly occupied.

“Why can’t I go to a normal school?” Brick, Sarissa’s fellow Prefect asked rhetorically as he ambled past, running a hand through his messy hair making it stand on end.

On the way to breakfast, Iris poked her head into one of the girl’s bathrooms on the ground level then withdrew nodding. Those toilets were also singing in fine voice and increasing volume.

The chorus was a little quieter in the Hall, especially as nearly the whole school body was already there and talking about the insanity of singing toilets in every dorm. Iris couldn’t stop giggling when she learned Eddie had been sitting on one when it began humming. Eddie himself was torn between mortification and hilarity as he recounted the experience.

Everyone in the Hall stopped dead when the doors to the bathrooms alongside the Hall flung themselves open and the volume increased again for a rousing final chorus of the song they’d been hearing all morning.

‘MAY OUR MOUNTAINS EVER BE,

FREEDOM’S RAMPARTS ON THE SEA

MAKE US FAITHFUL UNTO THEEEEE…’ they bellowed in perfect harmony.

The owls that had flown in to deliver the morning’s mail rose and flapped about panicked as the final few lines of the song in sensational acapella were belted out at top volume.

 ‘WORKING OUT THY GLORIOUS PLAN

GOD DEFEND NEW ZEALAND!’

Silence fell.

“HUGO RAYMOND IHAKA!” Mr Giovanni thundered. As one, the entire student body pivoted to look at Hugo who climbed up onto his seat, and then onto the Uluru table where he took a slow, deliberate bow.

Somebody, somewhere in the Hall, began to clap.

Chapter Text

Dudley started and hot tea spilled into his lap as an unexpected THUMP reverberated from the kitchen window directly behind him.

“Damn it!” he exclaimed, rising to reach the paper-towels to mop himself up. “What in the hell…?”

“Oh Dudley, you closed the window!” Nadia hurried into the room chiding him, throwing open the window and peering down in concern. “Obi! Obi baby, are you OK?” she crooned. A disheveled owl fluttered awkwardly up and landed on the sill.

“That feathered menace!” Dudley grumbled, mopping at his jeans. “Don’t mind me, I just gave myself third-degree burns.”

“I think he’s OK.” Nadia was busy inspecting the disgruntled bird for injury and to Dudley’s irritation, didn’t even turn to look at him.

“Lucky we decided to stop at two children then, eh?” he muttered.

“You’re not hurt, no you’re not. What a lovely handsome boy. Have you got a letter for us, sweetheart?” Nadia baby-talked the owl. Dudley froze and stared at his wife in absolute slack-jawed incredulity as Obi Wan hopped politely onto Nadia’s proffered forearm and she carried him carefully over to the perch Dudley had made for him.

“What?” Nadia demanded, having noticed her husband’s expression for the first time.

“I… just…” Dudley couldn’t get the words to cooperate on his tongue. Nadia’s expression sharpened and she put her remaining fist on her hip and levelled her husband with a look.

“What?” she insisted.

“I just can’t believe that Nadia Dursley, Department of Fire and Emergency Crisis Management Officer and all-round badass is baby-talking to a glorified feather duster.” Dudley blurted. Nadia tried to maintain a stern expression, but she couldn’t help but soften.

“Obi is my baby.” She purred, scratching the owl in his favourite spot.

“Clearly.” Dudley said quietly, and then; “A letter from Iris?”

Nadia turned her attention to the letter rolled up and attached to the owl’s leg.

“No, from the school.” She said, unrolling it and glancing at the crest. Dudley forgot his spilled tea and reached forward. Nadia passed it over and placed Obi on his perch which was already equipped with a full water bowl (filtered water) and a waiting owl treat.

“Everything OK?” she asked as Dudley, having unrolled the parchment and was reading swiftly.

“Yeah.” he replied, the relief evident in his tone, “They’re saying that due to the pandemic, the school is offering for students to stay for the holidays.”

'Dear Parents and Guardians,

  I trust this letter finds you and your family in good health and high spirits.

  As we approach the Easter holidays, I wish to acknowledge the ongoing uncertainties surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic. The health and safety of our students remain our utmost priority, and we understand that this period may bring about concerns regarding travel and exposure risks.

  In light of this, Nyambi School of Enchantment is offering an option for the students to remain on campus during the Easter break. Our school’s isolated location and self-sufficiency provide a unique haven, minimizing external contact and potential exposure. By staying within our grounds, students can continue to thrive in a secure and nurturing environment.

  Should you choose this option for your child, please inform the administration by April 8th so we can make the necessary arrangements to ensure their comfort and well-being during the holidays.

  Nyambi is committed to supporting our students and their families during these challenging times. If you have any questions or require further information, please do no hesitate to owl us.

  Wishing you a safe and peaceful Easter.

  Warmest regards,

  Esmerelda Brocklehurst.'”

 “Excellent.” Nadia said, “They’re taking this much more seriously than many, considering just how little we know about this thing.”

“I don’t know about leaving Iris there.” Dudley answered uneasily.

“Why not? As they say, the school is isolated enough and they have a fully qualified Healer on site. She would be with her friends and have plenty of supervision.” Nadia countered.

Dudley heaved a sigh, then looked at his wife with a pleading expression. They’d had this sort of discussion more than once. Nadia took pity on him.

“I know you’ve got some pretty terrifying previous experience with the magical world and that makes it worse for you than me, with no bad experiences.” she began, drawing Dudley in for a reassuring hug.

“You told me your cousin is magical too, and he has kids. Maybe its time to give somebody else a call who understands it more than I do?” she suggested gently. Dudley froze for a moment in his wife’s arms, then relaxed again and rested his chin on Nadia’s shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe it is.” he said quietly.

Dudley turned his thoughts to his cousin. They had a tentatively friendly relationship, one Dudley had initiated before they had gone into hiding for that terrifying year. A cup of tea left out for his cousin. Asking why Harry wasn’t going into hiding with them. A handshake at their parting.

Dudley distinctly remembered the horrifying realization he had come to even before that when he discovered his school friend, Piers, out cold on the floor of the boys school bathroom at Smeltings.

Accompanying his friend to the school nurse. The questions about Piers’ home life. The arrival of the Headmaster, the police, the social worker. Hearing snippets and snatches about things Dudley had always ignored and never paid much attention to. The malnutrition, the neglect. Finally making himself confront Piers’ situation in his own home in the form of Harry – a  nearly perfect mirror to his best mate’s situation.

The overwhelming guilt and shame. The warring feelings of love and disgust for his parents. The self-loathing in himself for how he had treated Harry his whole life. Then, that godawful year in hiding. Dudley had come out of that as a shell of his former self. When his father passed unexpectedly, Petunia had been terrified for her son who nearly withdrew completely and got him into therapy.

The effect wasn’t exactly what Petunia had in mind. Grateful for somebody to offload all that lay heavy on his heart, somebody who wouldn’t interrupt him, wouldn't judge him and would help him make sense of his incredibly tangled thoughts. Over time, Dudley had thrived in therapy.

Petunia was relieved and positively gleeful that her son began to come back to himself again, but then concerned when he wasn’t ‘his old self’. She frowned when Dudley held a shop door open for a filthy homeless man. She sniffed in disapproval when Dudley collected and donated most of his eighteenth birthday gifts. She gave Dudley the cold shoulder every time he actually wrote and posted Harry Potter Christmas cards and gave him outright silent treatment when Dudley sent Harry a wedding present.

Dudley smiled grimly to himself when he remembered that his mother was openly horrified when he brought home his first serious girlfriend to meet her, and not only was Nadia more than happy to call out Petunia’s microaggressions and passive-aggressive behaviour, she also wasn’t white. Dudley loved his mother, he really did. However, she wasn’t a small part of the reasons that Dudley and his now wife Nadia made the move to the other side of the world.

“They’re what, eight hours behind us?” Dudley asked.

“Seven.” Nadia replied, letting her husband go and stepping back. “You’d be better off getting up early tomorrow morning to catch Harry at home.”

Dudley nodded absently, reaching for his phone to set an early alarm. He counted backward in his head. Harry would be home and probably finished his evening meal and settled in for the night at around 3am Dudley’s time. He sighed. Luckily tomorrow was a Saturday morning, so if he could try and get back to sleep after he spoke to his cousin.

Chapter Text

Note: Translated with permission, from the Gundah dialect of Mermish

I’ll never forget my first sight of humans. I had always been told I was fortune to have never encountered them as a child, to have lived as blessed as my name until I had grown to full adulthood. We had followed the saturation of human magic by the coast for many, many days. A long and wearying journey.

The waters grew cold and I spent more time hunting than I wanted, just to keep us fed enough to keep warm. At the end of the journey after an argument Kaimana won, I reluctantly left him guarding the human Thing and tiredly made my way to the edge of my world for the first time in my life. I swam to and fro, examining the huge tor rising out of the land on which the magic human dwelling stood.

I could just see a part of it standing majestically on the crest of the tor. The enormity of it was astounding. We had nothing like this in Gundah waters. I heard many, many voices throughout the day so I felt it safe to assume that such a large dwelling was home to many, many humans. What frustrated me was how far away it was. Unlike the vain Nerevalis of the tropics, our tails could not change to legs if we went onto the land, so for a time I was confounded.

I found the little rocky cove almost by accident. When the tide was high but mostly gentle I swam close to the rocks, hugging the coastline and searching for some way to get closer to the magical dwelling. I wasn’t exploring every nook and crack, I hadn’t the time for such waste so I almost missed it. A larger than usual wave flung me roughly into a divot in the rocks and right there in front of me was a hole, comfortably large enough to swim through and quite suddenly the water was calm.

I explored the little cove quite thoroughly. This would be the ideal place for Kaimana to rest and recover if I could but get him here. The water was surprisingly deep near the entrance, and grew shallow suddenly where a large rocky tower climbed out of the water, forming a flat top within easy leaping distance. The perfect place to warm myself after so long in this icy water.

High above I could see some seathistle waving gently in the winds. Where there was some, there would be more. I would be able to find some close to the water nearby, surely. A small beach graced one side, and caverns to the water the other. Places to hide, places to rest. The shallow caverns led to others further back, higher up with sandy floors. Sheltered. Safe.

Then there was the high, narrow cavern-mouth, the inky darkness indicating a deep and sightless place. Then the odd rocks, clearly placed by humans for their legs to lift them up from the beach, stroke by stroke to the entrance to the black cavern. There was just enough light shining into the entrance to see more of these uniform rocks leading up and up to who knew where. Their world, presumably.

I visited the cove again each day after gathering a couple of handfuls of seathistle from the rocks nearby and found a safe place on a rocky ledge inside the first of the small water caverns. The second time, I brought Kaimana’s bag for safe keeping. I would hunt on the way back, to feed him.

It was on my third visit I saw the humans for the first time. They were smaller than I had expected. They looked young, so perhaps they were. I had no point of reference for human ageing so I could only guess. They did not look so different to us, if they were one of us they would be half grown. Old enough to think they’re grown, but too young to understand what it would mean.

I remember how hard my heart hammed when I heard them, when I saw them for the first time. I dared not break the surface. Cowardly of me, but they had come into the cove suddenly and all the stories I had heard as a child kept me still and silent.

The second time I saw them; I was waiting for them. I needed these humans, I had to get them to take away the thing. I watched them carefully for a time. Their chittering sounds as they spoke to one another in voices I could not understand. They appeared to be excited, I was certain it was the first time they had come to the cove. They dashed from place to place on their funny spindly legs and odd weaves draped and shaped over their bodies.

Their colouring was startling. One was very pale. I initially worried that the child was sickly, though their robust cheer and liveliness was at odds with my assumption. Two had skin as dark as any Gundah, though with an odd tinge that would never be found among my people.

The four stripped away parts of their odd clothing and hurried joyfully into the shallows. I smiled, seeing them splash and play like any younglings the ocean over. Their power was wild, flaring out at odd times. Gundah had no power like that, it made me cautious.

After watching them for a while I realised they were getting into the deeper water and quite close to me. I waited for the right moment then moved out into the deeper water of the cove. The sounds changed, one of them called an alert to the others. I cursed my misfortune – they’d seen me.

They scurried out of the water like a school of startled crabs and began looking back trying to find me. They chattered at one another in their strange language as I debated on what to do.

My mothers’ words came to mind in that moment; “Be always wary of the humans. Their species is a destructive one.”

I thought of Kaimana, waiting for me and guarding the Thing. I thought of the damage the Thing had done. Was doing. I had to return it to the humans. It was their Thing, they would know what to do with it. Some of them may even be searching for it.

The humans had hopped out onto the large rock and were peering into the water trying to find me.

My mind made up, I edged forward and surfaced, peering around a rock and gripping it for support. The humans all froze and for a long, long moment we all stared at one another. Two completely different worlds meeting for the first time.

The small one moved first. A small smile and then a quiet voice I couldn’t understand. I was amazed to see such a Gundah expression on such an odd creature. Something as simple as a smile. One of the others called out a little louder but it didn’t help, I still could not understand.

A movement caught my eye and I focused fast on the one that had raised her arm. I couldn’t help it. All those stories of fishermen, nets, noisy and lethal spears… we grew up to fear the human race. Her hand was empty and I felt the relief wash over me. It seemed to be some sort of greeting. Slowly, so slowly, I raised my own arm to mirror hers.

A shadow flashed past and human sounds close by had me diving for safety and powering out of the cove and out to the safety of the open ocean. Four against one was dangerous enough, I wasn’t going to risk more of them finding me. I swam with the speed of my third name. Should I be followed I would lead them a long way from Kaimana and the Thing.

I regained control over my panic and stopped deep in the ocean. I waited and watched for any sign of pursuit. I heard nothing but the life and breath of the ocean. I saw nothing but the endless waters of life. I stayed still long enough for the fish to swim past without alarm. I heard  far-distant song of a whale. I was safe.

I went hunting, on the way back. It was dark by the time I found Kaimana again. He looked worse. His skin was too pale, the skin of his face was stretched too tight over the bones. His scales were showing early signs of rot. He barely had any appetite but I made him eat, mouthful after mouthful, willing the strength to return to him. He was wasting away before my eyes.

: I will return it to them. I met some today. : I told him. Kaimana nodded solemnly.

: They will come for it? : he asked.

: They will have to. I will return to them tomorrow and make them understand. :

: They must come soon. The corruption…: he gestured. I looked around, dread curdling in my stomach. He was right. The area nearby where the Thing was hidden was dying already.

: Soon. : I replied firmly, : They will take it back soon. :

I returned to the cove early the following day and waited. They did not come. The next day I went back, and the next but no human came. I began to lose heart. I spoke to Kaimana about it. We thought perhaps the humans were too young, and they had been frightened of me, too afraid to return.

Every day, I swam back. I waited in the cove. I stored more supplies there. I swam up and down the coast, looking for another way to get closer to the humans. I heard them often, their voices carrying on the wind from the colossal dwelling on the hill. Sometimes I saw them flying high up above like birds.

I even swam up the river until it became to murky to navigate, trying to find a human who looked safe enough to approach yet I could not find any whom appeared alone and safe to approach from their village.

Kaimana grew weaker by the day. His colour paled. His bones were starting to become prominent. He was still strong enough to stop me taking the Thing and throwing it down the deepest canyons I could find, though I knew that would not last, not at the speed he was declining.

It had been more than ten tideflows and I was beginning to lose all hope. It seemed that contrary to the stories we had been told, the humans didn’t frequent the ocean nearly as often as we thought. I returned yet again the now familiar cove. I planned to wait until the bright sun had sunk to kiss the horizon before I made my way back to Kaimana, and I had decided to at least bring him back so he could rest and recover. The Thing could clearly protect itself.

The brightness wore on, and I remained in the shadows as I waited, enjoying the warmer water and planning which direction I would swim to hunt before I returned to Kaimana. Then I heard excited voices approaching, sounding strange and muffled. I surfaced cautiously and took my first uncomfortable breath. Keeping hidden behind the rocks I peered around to see if it was the same humans who came before.

It was indeed the same ones, though only three of them had come this time. The one who had smiled, the one who had waved and the one with the curly mass of tressil on her head. I wondered where the male was.

The three were chattering to one another, high excited voices and swift smiles. They were casting about, peering into the water here and there. It seemed they were looking for me just as I had been searching for them. I swam forward out of my hiding spot and let my tail splash deliberately. The three of them froze as they saw me, then broke out into smiles again. I couldn’t help but smile in return.

They gathered on a low, broad rock off to the side of the large one so they were close to the surface. I approached slowly, still wary of them but not willing to frighten them either. For a moment we stared in awe at one another. These humans were fishtales come true. Stories told across the wide mass of the ocean become flesh.

Then to my absolute shock, the smaller one who smiled first stepped forward. The three sank down low and the small one held out an object in her cupped hands, bowing her head in an unmistakable gesture of the syllith – the gift of friendship. The human hadn’t spoken a word, the gesture of syllith was offered but not the words. I understood, even so.

Reverentially, I accepted the object, cupping my hands around the smaller, hot ones and bowing my head in return.

: I accept your token and promise of friendship, by the spirit in which it was offered.: I responded in the formal tone. The humans had startled a little when I reached for the smaller one’s hands yet they remained still. Their strange eyes widened in surprise when I spoke. Perhaps they had never heard Gundah-speak before.

The smaller one cautiously removed their hands from mine, leaving the gift in my grasp. I drew back to examine it. It was a pouch with a long strap made of some strange kind of skin. I opened it and peering inside I was astounded to see how large it was. I looked at the outside, puzzled then the inside again. I struggled to understand. I checked over and over. The pouch could surely not be larger on the inside than it was without. Could it?

The humans glanced at one another, smiling broadly. They spoke to me in their chattering language that I could not understand, gesturing and still smiling. I presumed they were trying to explain the impossible phenomenon to me. I shook my head as I put the strap of the pouch over my head to show I could not understand.

The humans stopped to chatter to one another, gesturing. They seemed to come to some kind of agreement and then they shuffled apart a little, all positioned low on the rock with their odd spindly legs folded under them. The gestured me to approach and then the small one gestured to the odd selyn they wore and said a word. They repeated it, tapping their chest to emphasise it. Then the one with the mass of tressil did the same, though the word was different. The third copied the gesture with yet a different, short word. Then they looked at me expectantly.

It took only a moment for me to realise, they were giving me their names – a true gesture of trust that surely I could not have earned so soon. Their faces were so earnest, so bright and innocent. They waited eagerly. I hesitated, swiftly considering which name to give them when they spoke again. It seemed they thought perhaps I did not understand what they offered just yet. Or perhaps the strange words were harder for me to repeat.

“Arin.” The small one gestured again to their chest. “Arin.”

“Aer-inne.” I responded slowly. It did not sound exactly the same. The three humans were clearly delighted.

“Iris.” the next one offered.

“Eye-riss.” I repeated. She clapped her hands and nodded, saying another word I did not understand.

“Fae.” the third spoke eagerly.

“Fayye.” I answered.

The three looked to me eagerly, clearly awaiting a return of their trust. Copying their gesture, I spoke clearly;

:Taarai.:

“Taa-ray.” They repeated. I smiled briefly at their pronunciation – it seemed I was not the only one who felt the words so alien on my tongue.

:Taarai.: I repeated and they tried again.

We spent more time than I had expected simply repeating one another’s names back and forth, perfecting the saying of it. Their sheer delight and excitement was infectious and I could not but help share it.

Before long, the brought sun was dimming as it sank to the horizon and the three humans began to rise to their feet and change their words. The three spoke to me, knowing I did not understand yet seemed to be unwilling to simply remain silent. They raised their arms just like Iris had the first time they saw me and I copied the gesture. They turned and left, often glancing behind them.

Once they were gone up the stones and into the hole in the rock, and their voices had faded away I dived and swam ocean-bound, the pouch resting easily at my hip. I was determined to bring Kaimana to the cove. Now. He needed to be away from the corrosive sickening that the Thing exuded, and somewhere safe to heal.