The Arrivals
Chapter 13: The Arrivals
Much to Rowena’s horror and surprise, the other three founders were not up early the next day, despite the significant amount of work they had to do before the pupils arrived. It was the first day of September, and the students were scheduled to arrive at noon via various portkeys, except for Orion Black, whose mother, for some unfathomable reason, had decided he would arrive the next day. Flustered, Rowena shot furtive glances at the Great Hall door as she sat, wringing her hands, unable to eat. Suddenly, Helga entered, followed shortly by the boys, all looking like they’d just wrestled a troll.
“Where have you been? We have so much to do!” Rowena cried anxiously.
“Not so loud, Row,” Godric winced, cradling his head. He plopped himself down and helped himself unceremoniously to breakfast.
“They’re not coming till noon,” Salazar said, trying to calm her. He, too, was not feeling wide-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“I could get used to these house-elf breakfasts!” Godric declared.
Rowena, more frustrated with them now than ever, asked, “What did you three do last night?”
“The question, I think you mean to ask, is what did us?” Helga groaned.
“I think it was definitely that last batch of mead!” Godric replied, taking a swig of drink.
“We have to organize the rooms and the house-elves. We haven’t even started on dividing the pupils up!” Rowena cried, her voice trembling slightly as she shuffled some pages in front of her, which she had brought down.
“Divide them up?” Helga asked, confused. “What on earth do you mean?”
“Well,” Rowena hesitated, clearing her throat, “I thought it would be helpful to divvy them up, you know, have specific pupils we are responsible for—”
“That doesn’t sound like too bad an idea,” Helga admitted. “Our own sort of groups to specifically look out for and care for, you mean?”
“Yes,” Rowena said encouragingly.
“Care for?” Godric questioned, putting his spoon down. “What do you mean care for? Are we expected to be mothers as well as teachers?”
“I was thinking,” Rowena ignored him and ploughed on, “that we would call them our houses. Then each house could be rewarded for their studiousness and penalized for their rule-breaking.”
“Rule-breaking?” Godric exclaimed, eyes raised.
“Penalized?” Helga cried, eyes raised even higher.
“Well, yes,” Rowena replied. “We have to have a consistent strategy for disciplining the pupils in case of any rule-breaking.”
“Discipline?” Helga exclaimed again.
“I assumed we were going to whip them,” Salazar said nonchalantly. “Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
“Salazar!” Rowena cried, horrified. “I hope you’re joking. I was thinking of a point system. Points awarded to a house for good behaviour and points deducted for bad behaviour. Then a reward for the house with the most points at the end of the year. Of course, we can give specific punishments too.”
“Like beatings?” Salazar asked flatly.
“No, Salazar, not beatings,” Rowena said, frustrated. “I mean, removing privileges, giving them chores, detaining them during their free time.”
“How many points are we going to award and deduct for things?” Godric asked inquisitively.
“I don’t know,” Rowena exclaimed, thinking. “We will each be free to decide, depending on the situation and the severity or the intellectual prowess they’ve displayed.”
“So,” Godric mused aloud, “if someone did something particularly bad, I would say—one point from the house of—”
“Gryffindor,” Rowena finished.
“Gryffindor!” Godric blurted out, annoyed. “Why would you assume it’d be a Gryffindor who did something wrong?”
“We’re naming our houses,” Helga said, narrowing her eyes in disbelief, “after ourselves?”
“Yes,” Rowena confirmed.
“I’ll have Perry Faulkner, then,” Godric announced, calmly putting his spoon down on the table, subconsciously.
“We’re not going to pick,” Rowena cried in astonishment. “We’re going to do it randomly, fairly, logically—”
“I’ll take Orion Black,” Salazar said triumphantly.
“Course you would, wouldn’t you,” Godric said, looking at him knowingly.
“I’ll have Rabeena Sabeen then,” Rowena yielded, sighing, her eyes rolling.
They all turned to look at Helga.
She said, “I don’t care how much you look at me, I’m not going to do it. You’re all an utter disgrace to the profession, picking and choosing your favourites. I’m not going to do it just to make you feel better.”
“Helga doesn’t mind then. Give her the leftovers,” Godric said, rubbing his hands together. “Fyfe Farringdale.”
“Osprey Faulkner,” Salazar announced.
Rowena looked at the list. “Valda Hyde.”
Helga continued to refuse to relent and pick names. But she sat with her arms crossed, looking furiously at the other three, and regularly tutting. There were a little under forty children, and after having picked their share, Helga accepted those that were left. Godric and Salazar appeared to favour the boys, and Rowena the girls. Only Helga seemed to have an almost equal mix. Having decided this, and with breakfast finished, they went about their separate tasks. Each needed to ensure their house's sleeping quarters were prepared. They would need to take an office. They would then need to ensure that their classrooms were prepared. Helga also made sure that the house-elves knew what they were supposed to be doing. They would have to take up each of the pupils' luggage to their respective rooms and prepare a great feast for the first evening.
Salazar’s house sleeping quarters were far beneath the ground floor in the dungeons. He had not realised how deep they would go; they were practically beneath the Black Lake. There was a common room from which two corridors led off, one for the boys and one for the girls. The common room walls were lined with dark wood paneling. There were shelves and cupboards as well, in the dark wood. No doubt he would fill them with ancient scrolls and powerful books for his selected students to learn from. The chairs were made from black leather. It all looked very smart and sophisticated. With the help of a particularly scrawny house-elf named Wimpey, he managed to arrange three suitable rooms for the boys and a room for the girls. He had great hopes for the pupils in his charge. They were all from fine, upstanding magical families, including the Black boy, the Lesters, and the Sharpes. Osprey’s home had not been particularly impressive, but he had shown a bit of initiative when Salazar visited them. He thought that there might be something there.
Salazar returned to the entrance hall. There, he was accosted by Godric.
“Blimey! What on earth are you doing down there?” Godric asked inquisitively. “You can’t seriously be making your students sleep below ground?”
“Why not?” Salazar asked, straightening up. “My classroom will be down there. I’ll be down there. It’ll be a lot more convenient.”
“You are a mystery, Sal!” Godric replied. “Mine’s in one of those blinking great towers. Huge place, really cosy.”
“Wonderful,” Salazar said. “When’s lunch? I’m famished.”
“Need to find a classroom. Somewhere big, I think.”
“You haven’t set your things up yet?” Salazar asked, frowning.
“My things?” Godric replied, confused. “I’ll just get everything when I need them.”
“Godric,” Salazar said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have designed your lesson plans, haven’t you?”
“My what?” Godric replied, just as perplexed.
“Whatever you do, do not tell Rowena that!” Salazar implored.
“Tell me what?” Rowena demanded immediately. She had just appeared at the top of the marble staircase and was about to descend.
“Erm, that Godric can’t find his classroom,” Salazar said quickly.
“Yes,” Godric joined in, incredulous. “Why on Earth did you make all the staircases move? This is a school, not a labyrinth!”
She eyed them both suspiciously. “Well, find it quickly. The students are about to arrive at any moment now!”
*
The scene on the castle grounds that afternoon was like nothing they had ever witnessed before. It was utter chaos. Portkeys were exploding into existence left, right, and center, flinging children off like merry-go-rounds. Many children, especially those who had never traveled this way before, were projectile vomiting from motion sickness, particularly those who had travelled the furthest distances. Anxious parents, now either covered in vomit or trying to help their offspring clean themselves, added to the mayhem. Helga was running around like an army nurse, attending to the sick, conjuring buckets, and shouting back to Salazar, “We’ve got another one! Get some more potion!” Meanwhile, ten excitable, fretful house-elves were trying to steal luggage from very reluctant families to disapparate it to their rooms while also offering food to the already queasy guests, which only made matters worse. It was quite a start to the term, and it was decided, fairly unanimously, that nothing would happen until dinner that evening, allowing time for the pupils to rest and recuperate, and the house-elves to recover from their traumatic experiences. Being a pleasant day, portkey-induced sickness aside, the students predominantly stayed outside to enjoy the fresh air. There was also a lot of castle to marvel at, and most couldn’t get over how big and impressive it was.
This was the first time many of them had met each other. Two larger groups formed, one of boys and one of girls, while a few others kept to themselves. In charge of one group seemed to be the Farringdale boys—two blond-haired, good-looking, and muscular boys bred on a farm. One was particularly outgoing and boisterous, befriending some of the quieter boys.
“Fyfe Farringdale,” Fyfe said, introducing himself to a brown-haired boy of a similar age.
“Perry,” the boy replied, “Perry Faulkner.”
They shook hands. Fyfe had a good strong grip and a beaming smile. He seemed friendly enough.
“This is my brother, Osprey,” Perry indicated, introducing his brother, formally.
Osprey was quiet and looked uncomfortable. His social fear was apparent, and he nodded in Fyfe’s direction without smiling. Unfazed, Fyfe only grinned wider. His bravery was compensating in an overly cheerful manner.
“This is mine—Caedon,” Fyfe said, slapping his brother on the back. Caedon was about a head shorter than his older brother, a little shyer, but with a stronger build. “Caedon can throw a bale farther than any man I know!”
“Farmer Auberry would have kittens if we threw his bales,” Perry laughed, and then Fyfe joined in.
Nearby, Aldridge and Theodore Lester stood with disdainful expressions, acting as though they could still smell the farm on the boys.
“I thought Black was going to be here,” Aldridge said loudly to his brother, sneering.
He clearly thought his family background afforded him some pride.
“Who’s Black?” Fyfe asked curiously.
“You don’t know Black?” Aldridge asked scathingly. “Orion Black? Cousin. Best wandsman our age. Probably decided he doesn’t need to come to this place.”
“Our loss,” Perry replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at Fyfe. His sarcasm was lost on the Lester boy.
The Harts were the largest contingent there, with three children attending: Gwenda, the eldest, then Geraint and Vaughn. Gwenda, with bright red hair and freckles, was talking to a girl called Valda Hyde. Valda had curly black hair, was quite tall, and wore an expressionless look.
“Look at it!” Gwenda was saying, pointing at the castle. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She marvelled.
“Suppose,” Valda replied unemotionally. She though being impressed was so uncouth. Then she flicked her hair back. “Not many girls, are there?”
“No,” Gwenda replied, looking around her. “I don’t suppose there are. We look like the oldest.”
From inside the castle Salazar was watching the scene unfold, with little regard. He believed it best not to interfere and to let nature run its course. It was only natural that there would be order and hierarchy to the pupils' relationships, and it was wise to let them figure that out for themselves. The thought that any might be homesick was abhorrent to him. The thought that any might find it difficult to integrate themselves with the others was a sign of weakness.
He turned and walked toward the Great Hall when it was time for the evening meal to commence. Entering by a side door, he sat at the top table. Godric and Helga were already there. Godric looked excited and was practically bouncing up and down on his chair. Helga was fidgeting and nervously looking for the pupils.
Soon, the Great Hall doors were flung wide open, and Rowena marched in at a brisk pace. Trailing behind her were the students. As they walked in, their reactions were all of similar amazement. They looked forward first and gaped at the size of the place, then their gazes drifted up, marveling afresh at the ceiling and the cloudless sky that twinkled down on them. Their faces were lit by the flickering, hovering candlelight. Salazar inspected the students carefully. He noticed, at the back of the group, a tiny, unimpressive boy shuffling along the Great Hall with a long wooden stick propped under his right arm, clopping on the stone floor. The boy had no right leg; it had been amputated above the knee. Salazar didn’t mind this, but he wondered what impression it gave. They did not want people to think they had to scrape the proverbial barrel for students. Then again, surely this boy wouldn’t last long.
When she reached the top table, Rowena turned around dramatically. She faced the children, who then formed an arch around her, avoiding the other long tables in the hall as they did.
“Good evening, students,” Rowena said with great clarity.
There was an audible response.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she continued. “I am Professor Ravenclaw. This is the Great Hall. This is where you will eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Before you sit to enjoy your first banquet at Hogwarts, you will each be placed into one of four houses. Each house will be looked after by one of the four teachers. While you are at Hogwarts, we hope your house will be like your family. Should you have any questions or concerns, you may bring them to the head of your house. Throughout the year, you will be awarded points for your successes and deducted points for any misdemeanors. At the end of the year, the house with the highest number of points will win and be awarded the House Cup.”
In response, there was stunned silence. Then, in turn, she called their names out, and they sat at each of the long tables, corresponding to their different houses. When she got to Helga’s table, which was the final one, she at last read out the name, “Tip Pickles,” and the crippled boy moved, hopping along slowly, to join the table. He looked happy and shy as he joined the other children. Salazar surveyed his table. There seemed to be fewer students there, as Orion was not present. But it gave the impression that it was more select. A house cup seemed pretty much guaranteed.
Rowena announced the start of the banquet, and the plates and bowls that were laid out on the tables suddenly burst with food. There was so much. They each stared at the concoctions in curious amazement. When the house-elves had had time to hunt rabbit and game, no one knew, but Salazar, for one, was not complaining.
“Look at this pie!” Godric exclaimed to Salazar. “Have you ever seen the like? It is absolutely stuffed full of meat!”
“Stop prodding it, Godric!” Rowena berated him, slapping his finger away. “We all have to eat that!”
Helga looked concerned. “I will have to speak to the house-elves about their workload. This is too much. They have to do less!”
“Are you mad, Helg!” Godric grunted, with a mouth full of succulent pie. “They love it. Besides, this is the best blooming thing I’ve ever tasted!”
There was more meat than some of the children had ever had in a month. Once they were stuffed, their bellies visibly bulging, they sat back, unable to force another morsel into their mouths. At this point, Rowena got up again. She reiterated the rules, making a great point to mention that members of the opposite sex were prohibited from entering the other sex’s dormitories. She then outlined the boundaries of the land, stressing emphatically that the forest was strictly forbidden, and proceeded to wrap up. She was just starting to say that if there was nothing else, they would all return to their common rooms when she was interrupted by an ‘ahem’.
Godric, much to the astonishment of everybody else, had cleared his throat. “Erm,” he began, “it occurred to me that it would be nice to have a school song we could all sing!”
He looked at Salazar at this point, grinning, exceedingly proud of himself. Salazar groaned internally. What was he doing? He couldn’t say that poetry had ever been Godric’s forte.
Rowena sat down helplessly, and Godric coughed again, “Right then,” and he conjured scrolls to appear on all the different tables. “Repeat after me:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald,
Or young with scabby knees…”
The song seemed to carry on forever. But eventually, Godric sat down, thoroughly pleased with himself, and everyone could finally retire.
*
That first evening the pupils returned to their houses with trepidation and excitement.
Godric showed the Gryffindors to their new home. Then he lounged about in the common room with them.
He looked around. It was round and cosy, with deep comfortable seats. Fur rugs covered the floor in front of a roaring fire. Then he looked at the pupils. It was like he had eight new friends.
“Congratulations all!” Godric roared, high-fiving the students. “You’ve all made it into the best house!”
The students looked bright and eager, and they cheered back.
“That House Cup should be a cinch!” he declared, sitting back.
“Professor Gryffindor?” Fyfe asked curiously.
“What did you call me?” Godric said, shocked.
“Professor Gryffindor,” Fyfe repeated, uncertainly.
“That sounds good, doesn’t it?” he grinned. “Say it again!”
“Professor Gryffindor,” Fyfe laughed. “Is the food here always going to be like that?”
“I certainly hope so, Farringdale!” he replied, then asked curiously, “What’s everybody’s favorite food?”
He questioned the room eagerly. He liked them all enormously so far. He found that the older boys were really fun and quick. The younger ones were just on the edge of being great too, and with some careful guiding and watching the older lads, they would be as well. The two young girls, Sussanna and Isla, were confident enough to hold their own in the room full of lads and would not be pushed to the side easily.
After a while, he sent them all up to their rooms: Perry, Fyfe, and Henry, the eldest, in one room; Benjamin and Caedon in another; and Ruddy and Simeon, the youngest, in the last. As he left, he couldn’t help thinking how much fun they were all going to have. What an adventure it must be for them. They probably had never been away from home before.
*
It was very different story in the Slytherin rooms that evening. When Salazar entered the common room a hush fell over the whole room.
“It’s good to have each of you in my house. Each of you will have a part to play in the fortunes of this house. Each has a responsibility to oneself and to everyone else. I trust each of you wants to achieve greatness and glory during your time in this school.” He paused, looking at them in turn. “Stick close to me, and you will do. As for the house cup, it already has our name on it.”
Some of the boys chuckled. Salazar smiled at them.
“Aldridge, you’ll be sharing with Orion.”
“Oh good!” Aldridge said. “I wasn’t sure if he was coming.”
“Orion is already a very accomplished wandsman. You will have to learn fast to catch up to him. Osprey, Theodore, you will be sharing. Nostra, Malchiel, you two will be sharing as well. Cleopa and Eldrith, you will be sharing too.”
He looked at the girls. They were pale, but their features were strong and determined. He nodded at them.
“Teamwork,” he said pointedly. “Do not underestimate the power you have in numbers. Stick together. Use each other's strengths, negate each other's weaknesses. Get a good night’s sleep. The hard work begins tomorrow.”
Then he rose, bidding them goodnight, and left.