Chapter Text
The letter from Hogwarts
When Ian saw the owl flying in, he knew it was finally there. His Hogwarts letter. He was 11 years old after all (and judging by the fact that he accidentally managed to set fire to his father’s desk he was most certainly not a squib.
Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme
Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr O’Connor,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find
enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later
than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
After reading his letter through and through a couple of times. Knowing it would be coming was after all not the same as actually having your letter in your hand. When a voice suddenly asked, “What do you have in your hands Ian?” He immediately stopped reading.
“My Hogwarts letter little sister”, Ian answered, knowing well enough that Mary O’Connor (his sister) hated being called little sister.
“I still need to wait one more year, that’s so unfair”, Mary answered, “and I’m bigger than you Ian.”
Which was actually true, between Mary and Ian it was clear who would inherit their father’s height. Not that Ian was small at that.
“I know Mary. Just between you and me, I actually don’t think they allow giantesses at Hogwarts”, Ian joked.
“How Funny Ian”, Mary answered, not remotely upset, she had after all heard much worse from her brother.
“I’d better send Morrigan to Hogwarts”, Ian said after a bit of bickering with Mary. Morrigan was Ian’s black owl.
“Hogwarts, does that mean your letter finally came”, Ian suddenly heard his mother yelling.
“It finally did”, Ian answered.
“Do make sure you won’t be in your father’s old house”, Sinead O’Connor (their mother) teased.
Their father, Michael O’Connor, was a Slytherin. Sinead was a Ravenclaw.
“We can go to Dublin Saturday”, Sinead eventually decided. There were quite a lot of magical shops in Dublin, if you only knew where to find them.
The train
Since they had arrived rather late at the platform, most seats were already taken. In the last cabin there were only 2 girls.
“would you mind if I sat here?”, Ian asked.
After the girls answered that it was no problem, he sat down.
“Are you first years as well?” Ian decided to ask.
“Yes we are”, the redhead answered, “I am Tamara Primrose.”
“Fiona Dragonheart”, the blond girl now said.
“Ian O’Connor”, Ian replied, “nice to meet you.”
After a while, Fiona and Tamara had resumed their earlier conversation, so Ian wisely decided not to interrupt them. Carefully he took an old book out of his bag and started reading it. He quickly gave up.
“What’s that book about”, Fiona asked (it was after all not that usual for people to start reading ancient books in the train).
“An old Irish spell book”, Ian answered, “but I think it is still too difficult for me. But I’ll do plan to become proficient in Celtic magic by the time I finish at Hogwarts.”
“Is there a difference with other magic then?” Tamara asked.
“Celtic magic is less structured than the Latin magic we’ll learn at Hogwarts”, Ian answered, “not many people still know it nowadays, which gives you an advantage if you do know it.”
A couple of hours later, Ian noticed they would almost be at Hogwarts, “you’ll better get changed, I’ll leave you and change myself in the bathroom.”
In his school uniform, Ian headed back towards his cabin and sat down.
“Do you have any idea which house you’ll be in?” Ian asked, “I know I’ll probably be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, since my parents were in them.
“I don’t know”, Fiona replied, “probably Ravenclaw or so.”
“I have no idea”, Tamara answered as well.
When the train arrived at the station, they were awaited by a gigantic man (who’s size made Ian decide to never again call his sister a giantess again).
“First years, follow me”, Hagrid (who else) called out. The first years followed Hagrid to the boats and crossed the lake.
The Sorting Hat
At the castle gate, a Scottish woman (McGonagall) took charge of the nineteen first years. She brought them to a small room right outside the Great Hall where she told them to wait.
A few minutes later, she took them in and made them wait in front of a small stool with a battered hat on top, the hat began to sing. When the hat finished its song, all first years knew what to expect.
“Fiona Dragonheart”, McGonagall said.
Fiona walked forward and put the hat on her head. “Ravenclaw”, the hat yelled a few seconds later.
“Ellen Geerts”, McGonagall said. Curiously, Ian watched a small redhead take the hat, that was most certainly no British name.
“Slytherin”, the hat yelled after almost a minute.
A few more names passed, then Ian’s name was called. Ian now walked forward and put on the hat.
“An O’Connor again”, the hat spoke in Ian’s mind, “it has been a long time. But it’s no time for reminiscing on the past. Let me see: a good brain, a lot of curiosity. Those traits would be valued in Ravenclaw. Your curiosity is however not limited to benign magic, you wish to know every magic which can help yourself. Those traits are maybe better suited for Slytherin. I think I might go for...” “Slytherin!” the hat now yelled across the Great Hall.
Ian went to the Slytherin table and sat down next to the non-British new Slytherin. Tamara was now sorted into Gryffindor.
Dumbledore now stood up and began to speak, “good evening students. Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I won’t hold you up much longer however, eat well.”
McGonagall quickly spoke to him, after which Dumbledore added, “as Professor McGonagall reminded me, I still have to inform all our new students that the Forest is off-limits to all students.”
Now the Headmaster had stopped speaking for the second time, food appeared on the tables. Ian and the other Slytherins began to eat. When they were almost saturated with food, Ian began to speak.
“I couldn’t help noticing your name”, Ian told Ellen, “I presume you’re from the continent?”
“I am”, Ellen answered, “I considered it better to study outside my country.”
“How so?”, Ian asked, “I personally study outside my own country as well, but Ireland has no Magical Academy.”
“That’s not my problem”, Ellen answered, “we have two Academies, one in Antwerp and one in Namur.” Knowing that this wouldn’t stop the questions, she continued: “My father is the Belgian Minister for Magic. That’s why I don’t want to study there.”
A discussion about quidditch drifted over from a couple of other students, they were asking each other about their favourite quidditch teams. After a while, one of them decided to ask Ian and Ellen their favourite teams.
“Antverpia”, Ellen answered, “it’s my home city’s team. They did quite well in the European League last year.”
“I don’t follow quidditch”, Ian answered now. Knowing how this could be interpreted, he continued, “and no, I am not muggleborn, I just don’t like the sport.”
“You’re not afraid of flying aren’t you”, another first year student sneered.
“Most certainly not”, Ian answered still quite polite, “I am quite fond of low altitude cross country flying. But I don’t suppose a sasanach like you has ever heard of it.”
“What did you just call me?” the student replied.
“An Englishman”, Ian answered (which was perfectly true, although in this context he actually meant is as an insult), “the sport is virtually unknown outside of Ireland. So I merely clarified the reason why you probably don’t know the sport.”
“I do know it”, Ellen now intruded, Trying to at least diffuse the tension between the other student and Ian a bit. “The sport is practiced in Flanders as well. It’s simply flying at high speed with maximum one metre above the ground, usually in a forest with lots of elevation”, Ellen continued.
“That sounds dangerous”, the boy mentioned.
“It is”, Ian answered, “but the accidents are usually non fatal. Anyhow, I am Ian O’Connor.”
“David Stiles”, the boy now introduced himself.
Potions
The first day passed rather uneventful, Ian and the others did get lost a few times. Having doors pretending to be walls, walls pretending to be doors and moving stairs. That didn’t really help in navigating through the school. Potions however was one lesson in which they had no problems whatsoever finding the classroom. The three Slytherin first years arrived in the classroom before the five new Gryffindor students.
Ian quickly learned that Snape had a huge bias in favour of Slytherin (luckily for Ian, he was a Slytherin). It began with a couple of simple questions, “who can tell me where I can find a bezoar?”
“You can find one in the stomach of a goat, or if you have half a brain in your pocket as well”, Ian answered.
Luckily for him, Ian was a Slytherin (and furthermore: Snape actually had a bezoar in his pocket). “Correct on both accounts”, Snape answered, “15 points for Slytherin.”
“And why don’t we use a copper cauldron?”
“Copper can react with magical ingredients resulting in failed potions”, Tamara answered.
“An incomplete, but essentially correct assessment”, Snape admitted, Gryffindor received no points.
This obviously resulted in dissatisfied Gryffindors, one of them even dared objecting, after which Snape docked five points from Gryffindor.
“You should now all have your ingredients and your cauldron”, Snape said, “you are to make me a potion to cure boils. The recipe can be found in your workbook. You have one hour.”
Ian immediately began, this was something in which he had no problems whatsoever. With ten minutes to spare, he handed in his potion. The Gryffindor student Tamara was right behind. When the hour was over, Ian and Tamara were still the only ones who had handed in a completed potion.
“This potion has exactly the right aroma and colour”, Snape now told the class, while pointing at Ian’s potion (although the aroma and colouring of Tamara’s potion was nearly identical). “I award ten more points for Slytherin.”
On the way back to the Slytherin common room, David was still laughing about the 25 points Slytherin received.
“The look on the Gryffindor students’ faces was priceless”, he said.
“I’m not sure it’s that good for us tough”, Ian replied. “How can getting free points not be good”, David retorted.
“Because you can be sure that those Gryffindor students aren’t happy with us now”, Ian explained, “it’s never a good thing to make too many enemies.”
“I agree”, Ellen answered, “while my father was still at the Antwerp Academy, they still had French speaking and Dutch speaking students in one school.”
“Tensions between both groups became more and more severe, especially between the last years. Duels in the corridors happened more and more, the teachers were barely able to contain them.” When this had sunk in, Ellen continued, “Twenty years ago, in 1968, a Dutch speaking first year student accidently came in a crossfire between seventh year students and received no less than eight stun spells against him. The boy died. Later on they build a new Academy in Namur and moved all French speaking students there. I’m personally glad the tensions aren’t like that here, but they could be.”
The end of year
The year passed rather uneventful, the three Slytherin students all managed to pass their examinations (although David’s pass in History of Magic was only barely so).
No one in Slytherin was surprised when the green banners draped the ceiling during that year’s end of year feast, they had after all won the house cup as well during the three previous years. Ian was certainly quite proud about it, he had after all worked quite hard (there was a reason why the sorting hat had hesitated between Slytherin and Ravenclaw).
During the ride home. Ian, Ellen and David sat down together.
“I’ll miss you guys”, Ellen admitted.
“I’ll make sure to write loads of letters to both of you”, Ian promised, “just watch out for Morrigan...”
“She bites”, Ellen and David answered together.