• Claude’s summer break, just as all the holidays previously had been, was spent alone. He was studying Chinese in his room most of the time, and so his parents were undisturbed in their business. It became apparent to Claude that his parents wouldn’t notice at all when he left, and trying to tell them what was going on would be absolutely pointless. And so, as June dragged very, very slowly into July, and then into August, Claude counted the days painstakingly until the 26th.

    By that time, he had learned enough Mandarin to get along, but was by no means fluent. He packed one of his Chinese textbooks which he had purchased into his backpack, so that he might get a chance to study up while he attended Hogwarts.

    Just the thought of Hogwarts made him giddy. He was finally leaving his life of exclusion and abandonment behind. It was a transition in his life, he thought, as he pulled the pouch of Floo powder out from under his pillow and practically flew down the stairs as he went through an imaginary checklist in his mind. His backpack was overfilled with books, snacks, a cell phone, some puzzles and mindbenders to do in his spare time, and he had also packed a lunch, which he carried in his left hand.

    Just because his parents didn’t talk to him or acknowledge him in any way did not mean that they didn’t have some spare cash to fund his journeys.

    In his right hand, he had the floo powder. Setting his lunch down for a moment, he took a pinch of the powder and tossed it into the fire, which he had lit just for the occasion, despite the summer heat. Reciting the address of his destination which he had memorized precisely, he stepped into the silent, harmless green flames. “67, Hunchlin Place, London!” He announced clearly and loudly as he allowed himself to be engulfed by the fire. A rush of scenes flew past him; he was seeing several dozen different rooms as he spun rapidly through some sort of vortex, from the perspective of inside the fireplaces. Finally, he basically fell onto a wooden floor, feeling fairly nauseous from his first floo travel.

    “What’ll your name be, then?” A young man’s voice asked cheerily. Claude, who was sprawled on all fours from disorientation, looked up to see a young man with a clipboard. He took the man’s offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

    “I’m Claude.” Claude told him formally, holding out his hand, and it was shaken. “I assume this is the place for foreign students heading to Hogwarts?” Claude glanced around as the man with the clipboard checked off his name on the list. The room was small, roughly the size of Claude’s bedroom, the walls of which were covered with fireplaces.

    “Well, nice to meet you, Claude,” he said. “I’m Spencer, and yes, this is the Foreign Student Arrival Center. If you’ll follow me, I’ll send you on your way. Oh, and you won’t be needing those,” Spencer pointed at Claude’s bags as they walked outside of the room and down a hallway lined with doors.

    “So what do I do with them?” Claude asked. “I have some valuable things in here.”

    “Sorry, chap, but nothing except school supplies actually make it into the school, and you haven’t actually got any of those yet. You can store all of your valuables here until the end of the school year, if you’d like. You can pick them up when you come back here over the holidays.”

    “But, Spencer,” Claude pleaded, “How will I get my school supplies? All I have is some muggle money.” He pulled some folded Euros out of his pocket.

    “Oh, we have our ways,” Spencer assured him, and from a table they passed, he plucked a large lumpy package. “Here you are. All paid for. If you want anything extra or an owl or something, you’re going to have to buy them yourself. These are just your books, your cauldron, etc. Tomorrow, we’re taking you all to Olivander’s to get your wands.”

    “All of whom?” Claude asked. “Are there more?”

    “Oh, just a dozen or so. We’ve got a few Irish students, a pair of Russian twins, and a Pole, if none have turned up since I last checked.”

    “So this is some serious business, then?” Claude asked rhetorically, impressed.

    “Oh, definitely. So here you go. Just wait in there with the others. I’m going back, I think I heard a new arrival.” Spencer turned and power-walked towards the other end of the hall. Claude opened the door at his own end.

    Inside, there were, as Spencer had described, several red-headed-freckle-spattered Irish children sitting together on folded chairs, two very tall, intimidating, and identical twins standing together and mumbling, and one small, shy-looking girl sitting alone and staring blankly at the wall. “Hello,” Claude said cautiously as everyone looked up at him. There were several seconds of silence. This made Claude nervous. There was always silence when he introduced himself. Had he really thought he could escape his own identity? He might as well turn around and floo powder himself back home right then.

    “Welcome, and hello,” said one of the Russian twins, his accent thick. “You are foreign as well?” The other added.

    “Yes,” said Claude, the tension fading slightly. “I’m French.”

    “Then why do you not go to Beauxbatons?” The first spoke again.

    “Why don’t you go to Durmstrang?” Claude asked, not wanting to seem rude, but also not daring to reveal the real reason for his rejection.

    “Good point.” Said the second. “I am Ivan,” “And I am Dimitri.” The first added. “Nice to meet you.” They both said this in unison, and both of their hands were offered.

    “I’m Onri,” said Claude, not taking any chances as he shook the twins’ hands. “Nice to meet you as well.”

    “Hello, Onri.” Said Ivan. Some of the other seated individuals stood up. After several introductions and good wishes, Claude had been acquainted with all of the children in the room under the false name. That is, everyone except for the shy, Polish girl.

    “Hello,” Claude said, now feeling rather comfortable, socially. “My name is Onri. What’s yours?” He held out his hand politely. The girl blushed and turned away, abashed. Ivan laughed, and Dimitri gave a thumbs-down. “Come now, I’m not that scary. We’re all first years here, aren’t we?” Claude looked around for encouragement.

    “Yep. Just wait until we get to Hogwarts. I’ve heard the headmistress, Professor McGonagall, can turn into a fire-breathing dragon!” Exclaimed one of the freckled kids. “And she makes her students live in the dungeons if they don’t turn in their homework!”

    “Oh, shush, you,” said Claude, although he couldn’t help chuckling. To his relief, the girl was giggling, too.

    “I’m Alisa. She said, and shook Claude’s hand. Her voice sounded very weak, as though Alisa were suffering from a terrible cold. “Nice to meet you.”

    She flinched when the hulking twins walked over to introduce themselves, but soon everyone in the room was talking to each other and getting to know one another. Ivan and Dimitri were just telling a story about a Quidditch game they had watched recently when Spencer came back in. He was leading a tall girl, who looked to be a first year as well. She had hair so blonde it was almost blinding, and her blue eyes scanned the inhabitants of the room in a bored fashion. When her eyes fell on Claude, though, they narrowed slightly.

    “This is Danielle Jacquette. She’s from France. Do you speak much English, Danielle?” Spencer asked, putting an arm around Danielle’s shoulder.

    “Yes, I can speak it. I learned it over the summer.” Danielle pushed a long lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Claude thought she was very pretty, with her small, pointed nose and red lips. “I believe that being in an English school will help me become fluent.”

    “That’s the best way to learn, I’ve heard.” Said Spencer, as he patted Danielle on the shoulder one more time and left to go search for more arrivals. Some of the other kids stood up to introduce themselves. Claude tried to shake her hand and say hello, but she sat down the moment he stood up. Claude, knowing rejection when he saw it, sat down without a word. Spencer came in a minute later, alone.

    “Alright, guys. It’s time to go to the Leaky Cauldron. Leave anything you brought along in here, and we’ll store it until the end of the year. Sorry, Dimitri, but it’s just policy.”

    “Hey, Spencer,” Claude said, thinking heavily. “Why are all the foreign students first years? Did the others leave already, or what?”

    “Well, this is the first year we’ve accepted foreign students into the school. You’re all history in the making, if that’s how you’d like to think about it.” Spencer said cheerfully, throwing his arm around Claude. Obviously this was not a breach of personal space to him.

    They came out onto the cobblestone street. It was about midday, and the street was busy with cars. Claude noted that the automobiles were much different than the ones he was accustomed to seeing. Large trucks and long limousines bumbled past noisily, and there wasn’t a single vehicle that didn’t appear twice as large as any in France. When there was a gap in the traffic, Spencer shepherded them all across the street and onto the opposite sidewalk. “This way, folks. We’re almost there. Ah, here it is. The Leaky Cauldron.”

    They turned into a pub that Claude hadn’t even noticed until Spencer pointed it out. The crooked boards and slanted look to the building would normally have snatched up Claude’s attention immediately, and it seemed strange to him that he had overlooked it. Now that he looked into it, None of the people passing by them seemed to take any notice of it either. Was it invisible to muggles? It must be, if it’s a wizard establishment, Claude thought as they entered the shabby building.

    “Hey, Tom.” Spencer said to the man behind the bar. “How are you this fine day?”

    “Oh, not too bad, Mr. Dean. I see you have some new students. It’s only my pleasure to provide lodging for them.”

    “This is where we’re staying then?” Dimitri whispered into Claude’s ear. “I’ve seen cozier prisons.” Ivan whispered into Claude’s other ear. “And he’s seen plenty of prisons.” Dimitri added from Claude’s right. “Oh, shut up, Dimitri.”

    As Spencer and Tom exchanged some useless conversation, a maid showed the children to their rooms. Two by two, the students were assigned rooms all down a hallway on the second floor. Dimitri and Ivan went into the first room, Alisa and one of the Irish boys into the next, and so on. Soon, the only two left were Claude and Danielle. Both of them were feeling a bit uneasy about sleeping in the same room. It felt weird being in the same room as a girl, and Claude was sure Danielle felt similar sentiments. Not only that, but Danielle seemed to dislike him already.

    Either way, they were put in the same room, and they each chose a bed. Claude just lay down on his and shut his eyes. He was very tired for some reason. He heard Danielle’s mattress creak to his right as she sat down on her bed as well. Then the gentle shucking of her shoes being removed and the clatter of them being tossed aside.

    “What did you say your name was?” Danielle’s voice started Claude.

    “Uh… Onri. And you’re Danielle, right?”

    “Yeah.”

    “So why are you being sent to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons?” He didn’t mean to ask the question, it just sort of slipped out.

    “My parents just suddenly declared one day that I was going to England for school. How about you?”

    Claude’s eyes opened and he rolled on his side to face Danielle. It was panic time inside of his mind. “I have no idea. One day, I just got a letter from the headmistress saying that I was accepted. I never got a letter from Beauxbatons.”

    “These things confuse me.” Danielle said, who lay down on her back to stare at the ceiling. It’s like the schools know everything about everything.

    “Yeah, it is. I've wondered how the owls found me.”

    There was no answer, and so Claude closed his eyes and maneuvered onto his back again, sighing. “So where do we change clothes?” Claude asked, a sudden thought coming to him. “Surely they don’t expect us to undress in front of each other.”

    “Already, you are becoming a vulgar man.”

    “What?” No, I just meant—”

    “Don’t argue. All men are the same. It’s not your fault.”

    “Hey! That’s not fair! You can’t just—”

    “Shush.” Danielle said stubbornly, holding up a finger to silence Claude and rolling over to face away from him.

    “You have no idea how ironic you are being.”

    “I don’t understand.” Claude felt a bit triumphant inside. He had hooked her.

    “You say that all men are the same, when really you are being just like every other woman.”

    “I’m not listening to you anymore. Your company is not pleasing to me.” This was truly her final word. She thought so, anyway.

    Claude began to play absentmindedly with the empty dresser drawer, making it open and close with magic. The shuffling noise annoyed Danielle and she turned around to make Claude stop, but froze, open mouthed, when she realized he was opening and shutting the drawer without touching it. “How are you…?” Danielle choked, pointing at the drawer.

    “It doesn’t matter, you’re not listening to me.” Claude said, setting the trap shamelessly. He told himself he was doing this charade just to annoy Danielle, but he knew deeper that he was really trying to impress her.

    “Seriously, how are you doing that?” She asked, sitting up, still not looking away from the drawer, which was still opening and shutting gently. “You don’t have a concealed wand, do you? Of course you can’t. That’s impossible. Even if you had purchased a wand, the Ministry of Magic would come and arrest you.” Claude had to admit, this was clever, and if he truly had a wand, he would have fessed up immediately. It was a lucky thing that the Ministry couldn’t trace magic unless there was actually a wand, Claude thought.

    “Oh, this?” Claude said, pulling the drawer out of the dresser completely and levitating it in the air. “You mean you haven’t learned any magic yet?”

    “What do you mean?”

    “They don’t let you into Hogwarts unless you pass a test. They make you do magic, and if you’re no good, they turn you out.”

    “They do not.”

    “Yeah, they do. Ask anyone.”

    “I’ve heard all you have to do is be sorted into your house.”

    “They only let you try on the sorting hat if you passed the test. You’re going to fail, because you haven’t got any magic to use.”

    “You’re lying.” Danielle accused, but Claude smiled gleefully at the note of panic in her rising voice. Her blonde hair had fallen out from behind her ears and some strands fell in front of her face. “You’re lying, I know it.”

    “I swear upon my mother’s grave, I’m not lying.”

    “I’m sorry.” Danielle said, suddenly looking apologetic.

    “Naw, I’m just kidding. My mum’s not even dead.”

    Danielle, her concern rapidly dissolving into fury, stood up and slapped Claude upside the head. “Onri, you jerk!”

    Practically squealing with glee, Claude fell back onto his bed and laughed. When his laughing fit had finally lessened to the point of control, he looked up to see that Danielle was trying very hard to stay angry. She couldn’t help the corners of her mouth from twitching, though, and soon she let out a giggle, which she suppressed quickly and forced her face to frown. “You know, there’s no test. I’m just pulling your leg.” Claude said, and Danielle seemed confused as to how to answer.

    “I don’t know whether to slap you again.” Danielle said, and her right hand wriggled slightly.

    “I vote no on that one.” Claude said.

    “Your vote doesn’t count, you’re a boy.” Danielle said, finally allowing her smile to spread mischievously.

    “Now you’re getting into sexism as well as monarchism. This room is a democrity!”

    “It’s called a democracy, Onri.” Danielle smirked as she plopped back onto her bed.

    “You know, you never really answered my question.” Claude said, recalling what had started this whole feud in the first place.

    “Oh? And what was that?”

    “What are we supposed to do when we change clothes?”

    “I’m not moving. You can go out in the hallway, peasant. This is a monarchy.”