Cherry
One late evening in the summer of 1989, Cherry Fontaine had returned home to a small letter, decorated with a red wax seal. Letters were a rare sight in the Fontaine household, but a letter addressed directly to Cherry was even stranger. Before she was even inside, she'd ripped the letter open and began reading aloud the contents.
Dear Ms Fontaine,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a full list of necessary books and equipment.
The term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
After the initial shock of receiving an actual letter wore off, Cherry let out a cackle. What kind of name was Minerva McGonagall?! And what school was named Hogwarts. She quickly concluded it was some kind of practical joke by the mean posh school yobs from a few blocks down who sometimes threw stones at her on her walk home.
"Mum!" Cherry called out, excited to show her mother the ridiculous letter. "Look what I got!"
Her mother was waiting in the kitchen, the steam from the pot of boiling potatoes making her forehead shine and her hair stick up in places. Cherry, unfortunately, had inherited her mother's untameable hair, but the dark colour from her father. Apparently.
She began repeating the letter, finding the mixture of the fancy vocabulary and her very not fancy accent quite funny. She'd begun with a wry smile on her round face, but upon seeing her mother's face, she stopped immediately. Her mother didn't find it anywhere near as funny, instead she wore a horrified expression and her face seemed even more pale and hollow than usual. She stood up abruptly, marching over to Cherry and snatching the yellowed parchment from her hands. Cherry opened her mouth to argue but was so surprised, nothing came out.
"Who gave you this?" her mother asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Cherry had evidently still lost the ability to speak, so she shrugged her shoulders weakly and shuffled her feet. She'd only ever seen her mother this serious when Cherry's real father was brought up.
Her mother's eyes became wider and she waved the letter around in exasperation. "Cherry?! Who gave this to you?!"
"I don't know!" Cherry blurted, her voice shrill. "Was just on our doorstep. Swear it, Ma!"
This seemed to satisfy her mother slightly, but she still clutched the letter, so tight the parchment had started to wrinkle. She gave it another concerned glance, then shoved it quickly into the front of her apron.
"You're not to tell anyone about this, understand?"
Cherry scrunched her face up. "Why? S'my letter, isn't it?"
Her mother's face darkened for a moment. "No more questions. Just forget about it, it's probably a scam."
Cherry huffed, then turned to run to her room. Her mother tried to call her back to help with tea, but she ignored her, making sure to slam the bedroom door behind her. Her mother might've taken the letter away, but she wasn't going to forget a name like Minerva McGonagall any time soon.
She didn't have any nice parchment like the one she'd received, so a page from an art book would have to do. She began to write.
Hello Missus McGonagall,
Wasn't sure if your letter was a prank from one of tha kids around the block. Hear is my reply. If this isn't a joke, I would like to come. Tha only thing is that my Ma can't pay for fancy school fees or books, hope you don't change your mind.
From Cherry
Even after writing the letter and giving it to a slightly confused postie who insisted that the address must be wrong, Cherry still wasn't convinced it wasn't a prank. The neighbourhood kids loved to tease, but she could hardly blame them; there was nothing else to do in the crappy parts of Hackney. However, she was sceptical that those dim-witted kids would be able to come up with a fancy letter from a wizard school. That took actual imagination. And good spelling.
Though, the more she thought about it, weird things had been happening to Cherry since she was old enough to run. Once in primary school, the terribly boring book she'd been reading had simply burst into flames. Cherry, personally, had been chuffed, but her teachers were convinced she'd set it on fire purposefully. Another time, while in a particularly nasty spat with her stepfather, the dirty dishwater had shot right into his face. Again, Cherry had a right good time, but was blamed by her stepfather and grounded for the next week. But being a witch? She thought it seemed a bit ridiculous still.
One peaceful morning, there was a loud SMACK from the kitchen and an even louder curse word from her stepfather.
"Clara! Bloody hell! There's an owl outside the window!"
At that, both Cherry and her mother sprinted from the living room. Cherry's heart pounded so loud she was sure the rest of the house could hear it. Her mother's heart was also pounding, but for an entirely different reason.
"Is it still there?" her mother asked hurriedly, peering out the window. "Did it...er...have anything with it, Tommy?"
Tommy scratched his balding head. "Like a killed mouse, or somethin'?"
Cherry shot her mum a challenging look. Try to take this letter from me, she hoped her mother understood from the stare. She scurried out the backdoor, not bothering to close it behind her. Sure enough, right under the kitchen window, sat a snowy white owl. It was the most magical thing she'd ever seen, despite being slightly ruffled from the wind. Cherry's heart gave a leap as she spotted a yellow-ish piece of parchment tied to the owl's leg. She leapt forward, grabbing the letter as if it would disappear at any second. It had the same blood-red wax seal. This time, she noticed an emblem of four animals imprinted in the wax. A lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle.
Dear Ms Fontaine,
We thank you for replying so promptly, but suggest using a method other than your usual post office. Do not fret about paying for fees or books. We will meet you on 29th August to get your equipment.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Later that evening, after Tommy had left for the pub, Cherry's mother had sat her down. It had been to have a very important talk, she'd said, and Cherry's blood was pumping quicker than it had in her life. Even quicker than when the private school boys had stolen a car and almost run her down, and that was saying something. She'd always been convinced she was going to die a wanker-y death if she stayed in Hackney.
"I should've known you'd write back," her mum sighed, rubbing her thin fingers over her face. "I also should've explained things to you a long time ago..."
Cherry frowned, "Why didn't you, then?"
"It was to protect you, I promise. And do you really think you'd have believed me if I told you wizards with pointy hats were real?"
"S'pose not," she replied, giggling slightly at the thought. "So I'm..."
"Yes. I prayed and prayed you wouldn't turn out like him, but I s'pose it happens naturally."
Again, a small frown crossed the young girl's face. "Him? My dad, you mean?"
Her mother didn't reply, but the pained look on her dimly lit face spoke for her. Cherry had always just assumed her mum never talked about her dad was because he was a deadbeat drunkard who'd left them as soon as she was born. But now...
"He was a wizard?"
"Yes, he was a...he went to that same school. I met him just before he finished school. We were so young when you were born."
Cherry laughed lightly, "So I was an accident, then?"
Her mother slapped her hand playfully, her wide grin exposing her perfect smile. "Nothing about you was an accident. Maybe getting pregnant with you...but my love for you was no accident."
As promised, the morning of August 29th began with a sharp rap on the front door. Much too purposeful for anyone in their neighbourhood. Ding-dong dashers were much more sloppy, Cherry thought.
Having been up since 6 o'clock that morning with uncontrollable nerves, Cherry almost ripped the door off its delicate hinges opening it. She came face to face with a sharp-faced woman peering through square-shaped spectacles. She wore a dark green velvet robe and heeled boots that probably made a lot of noise when she walked. She could only assume this was Minerva McGonagall. Cherry knew she must've received many stares from not just the kids on her block, but quite literally everyone else. She was suddenly very conscious of the shabby state of the house and her clearly hand-me-down Bowie shirt. Just as Cherry had ever seen anyone like Minerva McGonagall, she doubted McGonagall had seen anyone like her before.
"Cherry Fontaine?" Minerva McGonagall asked sharply. A flicker of recognition passed her pinched face as Cherry's mother appeared behind her in the doorframe. McGonagall cleared her throat, and the recognition was gone.
Still wide-eyed, Cherry nodded at the woman.
"You've got a case, I assume?"
Again, Cherry nodded wordlessly, holding up a slightly worn trunk with various stickers on its lid. It was Tommy's, and Cherry was glad the perverse stickers of women were on the inside of the case.
"Right, we'll be off then," Minerva McGonagall said simply.
While Cherry was already following the woman to the gate, Cherry's mother was more hesitant. "She'll be back by 4pm?"
McGonagall waved an elegant hand as if this was the most normal thing in the world. "If that, Clara."
As McGonagall offered Cherry an arm, she began to wonder how the mysterious woman had known her mother's name. Then again, she was a witch.
On the very first day of September, Cherry Fontaine had never been so excited, and she knew it showed. She'd bounced around the house all morning, briefly stopping on the drive to the station, then promptly resumed bouncing as soon as they arrived. Even when her confidence wavered as they reached where platform 9 and 3/4 was supposed to be, she never ceased talking and giggling to her considerably less excited mother.
"Professor McGonagall said to run at it, did she?" her mother said nervously, which Cherry had replied to with a quick nod.
Sure enough, McGonagall hadn't set them up to get a severe concussion, and they had disappeared straight through the seemingly solid brick wall. During the trip to Dragon Alley with Professor McGonagall, Cherry had been filled in with the important details of what the witch had referred to as the "wizarding world". Cherry was beyond overjoyed to be able to see this world firsthand.
Her mother grabbed her shoulders suddenly, and Cherry was shocked to see tears lining her bright green eyes.
"You'll be okay?" she asked just loud enough to be heard over the other families saying their goodbyes.
Cherry had to stand on her tip-toes to grab her mother's shoulders in return. "Ma, I'll be fine. This place sounds well fancy, though."
Her mum smiled, the lines around her eyes creasing. "Be safe. Don't make any trouble. This place is 'well fancy', and you can't act the same as you do at home."
Cherry laughed loudly. "Very funny, Ma. Oh, is that the whistle? Think I've gotta be off now!"
Her mother returned the obnoxious laugh and gave Cherry a playful shove towards the scarlet red train. Cherry boarded the train, heaving her suitcase up with her, and waved at her mother through the windows, though it was becoming harder to see her through the steam. It hadn't really occurred to her yet that she wouldn't be with her mother til Christmas. She hoped Tommy would be good to her mother. Maybe she could learn a few spells to turn him funny-looking.
A skinny boy with bright orange hair pushed past her, muttering something about babysitting idiots. As he passed, his hip knocked into her case, sending it crashing to the floor. The boy stared at her for a few seconds. She scrunched her face into nasty frown. That used to work to ward off the rude boys at primary school. The red-haired boy seemed surprised by her frowning, and must've decided she wasn't worth wasting time on as he continued down the train carriage.
"Bloody git!" she called after him. Maybe not the best start, she thought.
The compartment next to where her case had fallen opened, revealing a two strangely identical boy with equally fiery hair as the boy before. She wondered if all wizards were ginger.
"You alright?" one of the boys asked, his freckled face peering at her curiously.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Some wanker just knocked my trunk over."
His face slowly twisted into a grin, as did his brother's. "Apologies. That was my brother, Percy. He is a bit of a wanker."
She chuckled dryly, and went to pick up her case. Honestly, she was just thankful it hadn't burst open and given everyone a nice look at her knickers.
"Oh, let me get that," the slightly taller boy said, grabbing her case and shoving it above his head into his compartment. Guess she was joining them.
"Cheers."
As she sat down in the cozy compartment across from the two identical boys who seemed to be staring at her, she became very aware of her clothes. Maybe the red sheep scarf was too much. Or was it the matching red sneakers that had the soles held together by a piece of duct tape.
"Red," was all the boy on the left had to say after a considerable amount of silence.
It was so strange, Cherry couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. She stuck out her hand for them to shake. "Cherry, actually."
The boy on the left, raised an eyebrow, but shook her hand anyway. "Fred. Think I'm gonna keep calling you Red, though."
"Ignore him," the boy on his right said, "I'm George. You a first year too?"
Cherry supposed she was. "Yeah."
"Which house d'you reckon you'll be in?" Fred asked excitedly.
Cherry's mouth went slightly dry. McGonagall hadn't really told her much other than that there were four different houses. Gryffindor, which was the lion, Ravenclaw with the eagle, Slytherin with the snake, and Hufflepuff, which was the badger.
"I- er- don't really know much..." she said, knowing her faced turned almost the same colour as her scarf. "Gryffindor, maybe? I met the head-lady and she seems alright."
Both of the boys mouths had fallen into O-shapes. Cherry hoped they wouldn't treat her differently, both McGonagall and her mother had warned her of something they'd called "blood purity". Wizard racism, she assumed.
"You're muggleborn, then? We're friends with plenty of muggleborns, don't worry," Fred said, thankfully very casual with the matter.
Technically, she wasn't "muggleborn", her dad was a wizard. Supposedly a very good one too. But she thought it hardly counted when she didn't remember anything about him. When McGonagall had told her that most pureblood or halfblood kids grew up in a magical world their whole lives, Cherry had been very jealous.
"Nah, my dad was a wizard!" she said quickly. "Just didn't know him too well. Or at all, really."
The identical boys were completely silent for the first time since they'd entered the carriage. Cherry could tell they were unsure of what to say, and she immediately assumed they were those kids that had know about magic since they were born. Fred seemed to give her an encouraging nod, prompting her to continue.
"Um...I grew up with my Ma," she continued, slightly awkwardly. "She's a...muggle, I s'pose."
After hearing Professor McGonagall speak for two hours, Cherry had asked continuously about the strange words she was using. She was surprised to learn they had a whole other word for a normal human. Muggle sounded a bit too much like a slur to her.
"How 'bout you lot gimme some wizard insight," Cherry suggested, "Y'know, so I'm not completely clueless."
Fred and George's eyes lit up eagerly, and Fred sat forward, rubbing his hands together.
"How about we start with Quidditch."
"...Quid-what?!"
By the time they'd reached the biggest castle Cherry had ever seen, she felt as if her brain were about to explode with new information. That might've also had something to do with the ridiculous amount of strange sweets they'd ingested. Cherry's mother had given her a small allowance of gold and silver coins she didn't recognise. Of course wizards also had to have their own special currency.
"First years with me, please!" a familiar voice rang out through the crowd of small witches and wizards.
Cherry took some relief in seeing Professor McGonagall and her perpetually stern face. The Professor beckoned the group of first years over to the extremely large doors, which she then pulled open to reveal an enormous space which was covered in pictures that were...moving? The space was lit with torches, leading up to a marble staircase. If this was just the Entrance Hall, Cherry's head swam as she tried to imagine what the rest of the castle looked like.
The first years followed Professor McGonagall into a much smaller chamber. Even through the heavy stone door, Cherry could hear what must've been hundreds of chattering voices. It was comforting to see she wasn't the only kid peering around nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. Before the banquet begins, you will all be sorted into one of four houses," McGonagall informed them, and Cherry was sure she could see a glint of excitement in the witch's eyes. "Your house will be like your family while at Hogwarts. Each house has its own noble history and wonderful witches and wizards have come from each house. The Sorting will begin soon...good luck."
Fred and George had teased Cherry on the train, saying that the sorting was some sort of physically painful test, but had eventually admitted that they had a family tradition of keeping the sorting ceremony secret from their younger siblings. It was nice to know they were just as clueless about the Sorting as she was.
At McGonagall's request, they formed a line and followed her through the magnificent double doors. Cherry had almost fainted at the sight of what was behind them. The massive hall was lit by hundreds of candles that were simply floating just below the ceiling. Or lack of ceiling, more like. Instead of a normal ceiling, it seemed to just be the night sky, littered with glittering stars. The rest of the students sat at four long tables, each table wearing differently coloured uniforms. Cherry didn't miss the silvery, slightly transparent people scattered through the crowd. Who knew wizards had ghosts too? In front of those tables was a raised platform where the professors sat at another long table.
The first years were led up closer to the platform and watched as McGonagall placed a stool in front of them. On the stool, she placed a manky pointy wizard's hat. Much to Cherry's surprise, the hat twitched and a fold just above the brim opened like a mouth...and began to sing. Cherry couldn't make out many of the words, and she didn't think the hat was very in-tune, but she marvelled at this nonetheless. Once the hat had finished its song and had become still again, the hall burst into applause.
Professor McGonagall stood next to the hat, holding a long piece of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put the hat in your head to be sorted," she explained.
Cherry was secretly very relieved the Sorting wasn't anything difficult, she was scared they would have to perform a routine of spells and they would realise she was a fraud and send her right back home.
"Davies, Roger!" McGonagall called out, and a small boy with buzzed brown hair stepped forward to sit on the stool, letting McGonagall place the dirty hat on his head.
There was a moment of silence, then, "RAVENCLAW!"
The table wearing blue ties cheered happily, and welcomed the boy over to their table. Cherry wondered whether the hat could read minds, or if it just...knew.
"Diggory, Cedric."
Again, a boy with a confident grin had the hat placed on his head, where it fell over his eyes and twitched slightly.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted, barely after touching the boy's head.
More names were called and kids sorted, and Cherry's nerves did the opposite of settle. She clapped when both George and Fred were sorted into Gryffindor. They'd mentioned that they'd rather not go to Hogwarts at all than be sorted into Slytherin. Apparently, Slytherin produced a lot of dark wizards and most of them were blood purists.
"Fontaine, Cherry!"
Finally.
Cherry made her way up to the stool, making sure not to trip over her robes. She held her breath for a second when the hat was placed on her head, unsure whether it would smell like wet dog or not. It actually just smelt dusty. Like Tommy's car after it sat in the garage for too long. To her surprise, the hat hummed quietly, as if it were contemplating something.
"Interesting..." it murmured, and Cherry hoped no one else could hear. "A loyal heart, and a decent mind. Considering your history, Slytherin might be a good fit..."
"Slytherin?" Cherry gasped. "Just 'cos I grew up in a crappy town doesn't make me wanna be evil."
The hat seemed to chuckle at her, "Alright, must be...GRYFFINDOR!"
She let out a shaky sigh of relief, and hardly noticed the deafening cheers from the table she headed towards. She spotted George and Fred waving to her. They were with a boy who introduced himself as Lee and told her he had a few chocolate frogs in his pocket he planned on setting loose in the hall, as well as a girl with long braids who said her name was Angelina, and a dark haired girl with pretty eyes who was called Alicia.
A tall wizard with a long white beard, velvet robes and a pointed hat stood up to open his arms welcomingly to the students. Cherry had seen him on the chocolate frog cards from the train ride. Albus Dumbledore.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls of the hall. "Before we feast, I would like to congratulate our first year students! Quidditch trials will be held in the third week. Finally, welcome our new Muggle Studies professor, Quirinus Quirrel."
With that, Dumbledore sat back down and picked up his cutlery eagerly. Cherry had always thought she had a strange name, but she was constantly being surprised at what wizards thought was acceptable to name their children.
Cherry had never eaten as much as she did that night than she had in her entire life. She felt guilty for some reason, taking second helpings of pudding. They'd never had enough money at home to be able to even have pudding most nights.
She went to bed full and excited, still partially convinced the whole day had been a weird dream. She'd been so tired, she'd fallen asleep in part of her uniform and with her unpacked trunk at the foot of her bed.