Chapter Text
Statistically, it is not possible for five children with IQs of over 150 and far too much energy to all be born in the same smallish suburb, but reality is, on occasion, a terrible statistician, so it happened anyway. This came as a great relief to both the children in question, who were all bored out of their respective minds and also to their parents, since hearing “chess got boring, its too easy to win” out of your six year old is only a good thing until you consider the logistics. It is a statistical certainty that five energetic genius children living in the same quiet suburb will become best friends. That happened too.
So John met Sam and Kelly who knew Fred who knew Linda and the result was a roving pack of children no one quite knew what to do with. The martial arts thing started because John, as everyone was quick to remind them all, needed to learn how to not break anyone else’s arms. But Sam, Fred, Kelly and Linda, being six, weren’t going to not do something John was doing, so it became the designated group activity. The thing they all did even when they cycled through disciplines and got old enough to have different schedules. Still, no one else got their wrist broken playing capture the flag, so it worked. Even if they people did go from calling them “that lot” to “those alarming children” when they thought no one was listening. They were wrong of course, because Linda heard them and told all the others.
Those alarming children were in the park on a Saturday two days after John’s eleventh birthday, when a plump woman, with flyaway hair bustled over to them. “Excuse me,” she asked Fred, “Are you John Daniels?” Probably because he was the only one sitting still, deeply absorbed in the magic trick he was practicing.
“No,” he said, looking up, “Hey John!”
John turned to look, and was, as a result, flipped onto the ground and pinned by a triumphant Sam. “Get off,” he muttered, squirming out from under his bigger friend and trotting over, “I’m John.” Sam followed him, and Kelly, who had been sprinting around the park jogged over to see what the fuss was about.
“Oh, hello dear,” said the woman. “My name is Professor Pomona Sprout. I’ve come to tell you something quite important, are your parents here?”
“They’re at home,” said John.
Professor Sprout looked a little perturbed. “Well, why don’t we go and talk with them. I’m sure your friends will wait for you.”
“Why are you trying to kidnap John?” Asked Linda, dropping out of the tree she’d been climbing. “Its creepy.”
Professor Sprout jumped and squeaked a little, then turned to face Linda, “Oh my, I didn’t see you there my dear.”
Linda stared flatly straight into Professor Sprout’s eyes until the professor looked away and turned back to John. “I’m not trying to kidnap anyone. I’m a teacher at a rather special school which you’ve been invited to.” She smiled at John and handed him his Hogwarts letter.
John turned the letter over in his hands in his hands. It was made of old-fashioned parchment and sealed in wax, which was a more than a little weird for a school acceptance letter. He was very not sure about this woman, schools with special programs came to your house, or your class, they didn’t track you down in parks. Besides, she couldn’t meet Linda’s gaze, and she called people dear, and those were not traits he liked in an adult. “If you’re from a special school, you must want to talk to all of us,” he said.
Professor Sprout frowned at him. “Well, no dear, I’ve just got a letter here for you.”
John looked up at her. “Well, I don’t think I want to go to a school without my friends. Sorry.” Then he handed the letter back. “Come on guys, let’s go.”
Then John, Kelly, Linda, Sam and Fred turned and dashed off. Professor Sprout heard the tall girl with the long blue braid shout “Race you!” as they disappeared around the corner.
“And so I was quite at a loss Minerva,” Pomona explained, “I couldn’t very well chase after them, they were already suspicious. The boy barely looked at the letter, I’ve never heard of such a thing, and quite odd children they were too.”
Minerva put her head in her hands, “No Pomona, I quite agree, I’m not quite certain what I would have said to that either. What was that name again? Daniels?” she asked, digging around in her desk for her list of new students. “In Elsingford?”
Pomona nodded briskly.
“Oh my,” Minerva muttered, as she looked at her list, “It seems someone will be quite a number of trips to Elsingford in the next little while. How peculiar.”
Poppy visibly steeled herself.
“No don’t worry Poppy. I think I’ll take care of these ones, they will clearly require a firm hand.” Minerva said, trading grimaces with Pomona as her friend headed back to the greenhouses.
Faced with the prospect of five trips to Elsingford in three months Minerva elected to wait and deliver her news all in one go and waited for the eighteenth of May, when the last of the letters was due to be delivered. By that time John and his friends had almost completely forgotten about the woman from the park so they were as surprised as Linda’s mother when Minerva McGonagall arrived on the doorstep. Minerva, for her part, was quite surprised to find not one child, but five and a pile of sleeping bags arrayed around the room when she arrived.
“Hello,” said Minerva, “My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall and I’m looking for Linda Pravdin. Is she here?”
Linda’s mother, for her part, handled the whole situation rather well. “I’m Kathleen, Linda is my daughter, can I help you?”
Minerva stepped inside. “Hello Mrs. Pravdin, I’m the Headmistress of a very unique school and I’m very pleased to say that your daughter has been accepted.” She pulled Linda’s letter out of her pocket, and Linda stepped up to take it. Unlike Professor Sprout, she met Linda’s gaze squarely. Linda smiled.
Sam, John, Kelly and Fred all immediately crowded around her to have a look at it.
“Linda, Sam, John, Kelly, Fred, go upstairs while I talk to the professor.” Kathleen rattled off, “and don’t just sit on the stairs and eavesdrop. I’ll call you when we’re done,” she added.
Naturally, Linda led everyone upstairs and into the bathroom, where you could hear everything going on in the living room through the heating vent if you laid down on the floor.
“Well Professor, I’m not quite sure what to tell you. We’ve considered sending Linda to a number of special programs in the past, but she’s doing so well here and making friends that I just don’t think that moving her would be worth it.” Kathleen explained.
Minerva, who had no idea about Muggle gifted programs, IQ tests or academic enrichment, let alone Linda’s specific history with them, frowned briefly at Kathleen before continuing, “I can assure you that Hogwarts is nothing like any other school you may have considered in the past. Hogwarts is a school of Magic and I’m happy to say that your daughter is a witch.” This was a well-practiced speech for Minerva, and she gave Kathleen a quarter of a minute to stare at her before moving on. “I understand how fantastical this must sound to you. Don’t be concerned, I am perfectly well prepared to offer you proof.” Then she turned the settee into a tiger.
Kathleen yelped like there was a tiger in her living room and all five children skittered back downstairs.
“Is that real?” Asked Sam, leaning over the bannister.
“Quite real I assure you, Mr –“ Minerva inquired, pursing her lips and resting her hands on her hips.
Sam either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the hint, thumped down the stairs and held out his hand. “Sam Adler.”
It took Minerva a full ten seconds to compose herself and shake Sam’s hand. “I beg your pardon, but did you just say Adler?”
“Yes that’s me,” said Sam, grinning.
“And I don’t suppose you live at 37 Clematis St?” Minerva asked.
“Yeah,” said Sam, “how did you know? Or is that another magic trick.”
Technically Hogwarts acceptance letters were addressed by magic, but Minerva shook her head. “No, it seems that I have a letter for you too.” She fished the letter in question out of her pocket and handed it to Sam, who darted back up to show it to his friends.
“Was that other Professor from Hogwarts too?” John asked, from where he was standing at the top of the stairs, “Pomona Sprout?”
“John Daniels I presume,” asked Minerva, with only the slightest of delays this time. After only a moment more she also managed to ask, quite graciously “And I don’t suppose you two are Kelly Berman and Frederick Ellsworth?”
Kelly nodded brightly.
“Its Fred,” said Fred, but he came and took the letter anyway.
Kathleen spared Linda of total despair before she turned back to Professor McGonagall. “I’m sorry, I’m going to need some more time here. You lot, why don’t you all go and get your parents. And get away from that.” She said, turning to the kids who were deeply involved in patting the tiger, which had started purring.
They left, but only after a certain amount of preadolescent eye rolling.
Kathleen turned back to Professor McGonagall. “Could I please have my settee back?”
Minerva rather distractedly turned the tiger back into a settee, which was left in the middle of the living-room rug. Kathleen sat down on it with a sigh. “A witch? Linda? Really?”
“I’m quite certain. Surely your daughter has, at some point done something you can’t explain? Something remarkable?”
“Well that’s just the thing isn’t it. Linda does remarkable things all the time. We bought her some Lego when she was four, and she built a working catapult. We hid them so she wouldn’t throw things at people, and she found it again, three times! Those five are ahead in every class you know, they’re all brilliant, we checked.” Kathleen explained. “I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. I haven’t been able to explain anything Linda does for years, I’m just a hair dresser. I love my daughter, but I can’t claim to understand her all that well, I’m afraid.”
Minerva nodded slowly. “Well, I can assure you that she will find Hogwarts to be a very stimulating place and she may well find more people like her.”
While Minerva was trying to reassure Linda’s mother, Linda and her friends had elected to wander through the neighbourhood collecting their parents in sequence rather than parallel to give themselves a chance to talk.
“So that did just happened right?” Sam asked.
“Well, I suppose we could all be hallucinating the same tiger.” Said Fred, “and the lady calling us wizards. And the crazy lady from the other day, and Linda’s mother could be too.”
“Well the other option is magic.” Linda pointed out. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never done magic.”
“Well there was that time with that teacher.” John pointed out, “remember Mrs. Shelby, you were in her cupboard and she looked straight at you, and she never saw you.”
Linda frowned, tilting her head this way and that as though she could jog the memory loose. “She was pretty oblivious, but you have a point.”
They stopped then, to tell John’s parents that Linda’s mom wanted to speak to them. Then continued down the street to Sam’s. Kelly tore her envelope open and pulled out the letter so they could have a look at it. “Robes and a magic wand? Student may bring an owl?” She asked as she read down the list. “This is a bit much.”
“Tiger.” John reminded her, as they stopped at Sam’s house.
“Oh I dunno,” said Fred, “It could be fun, unless you don’t think you’re up for it.”
“I,” said Kelly, flipping her long blue braid over her shoulder, “am up for everything, and if we’re going to go and learn magic, I’m going to learn more than you.”
John didn’t point out that Fred made a point of never being the best at anything if he could help it. He still hadn’t decided what he thought. A new school and a new set of subjects would be a good challenge, but wands and robes and pointed hats did sound silly.
Kelly dashed ahead to reach her house before them and then dashed back just because she could. They continued on to Fred’s.
In short order everyone was back at Linda’s. Minerva described the situation to the adults and the children were once again banished, and listened in via the bathroom vent. In slightly longer order decisions were made and trips to Diagon Alley were organized. And that was that.