Chapter Text
Twilight had turned the white stone blue and purple by the time Penelope arrived. Light filtered through the entrance hall's windows, throwing long shadows onto the steps. The castle's massive doors were closed, and the whole place held a sense of eerie foreboding, like the building itself was expecting something. The sorting ceremony. She let out a breath of relief when she realized no students had yet crossed the circular hall — there was the Gordian Knot still unmarked from footprints, the house statues still immobile — she hadn't missed anything. She edged her way across the balcony, ignoring the glares from fellow students.
"Where were you?" hissed a voice to her right, but Penelope shushed him.
"Glad you saved a seat for me," she whispered, hardly breathing. She got a sharp elbow to the side. There was only a moment of blessed quiet. Leave it to Augustus to spoil the picturesque view of the hall by talking.
"I see you dyed your hair. Again."
"School spirit." She waved a hand dismissively, "Be quiet, August, I don't want to miss anything."
Augustus rolled his eyes, but turned back to the floor below, resting crossed arms on the balcony's railing. Penelope ran a worried hand through her hair, now dark purple and blue to match her robes. Where were the first years? Surely by now —
The doors flew open. Huddled behind them was this year's new students, looking nervous as ever. Had she looked that small? She glanced at August, who was leaning over the balcony to catch a glimpse out of the windows. When had they grown up? Both of them, nearly eighteen: horrifying to think of. Just yesterday, it seemed, they'd been standing where those first years were now. They'd hated each other — Augustus, the know-it-all, the golden child, and Penelope, the troublemaker. But few things cured hatred like being trapped in a haunted forest together, and despite their teasing, they'd been friends ever since. Where had that time gone?
She couldn't hear the speech that the first years were being given by a dark-robed teacher, and could hardly see the faces of the new students, but the first name rang out loud and clear.
"Madeline Allendale!"
A young girl stepped forward timidly, and the teacher gestured encouragingly to the knot tiled into the middle of the hall's floor. Penelope knew what the girl must have been seeing. Four huge statues looming menacingly, a shadowy group of people watching soundlessly from the balcony that circled the round walls, a ceiling that seemed to stretch into the sky itself. Intimidating to walk in there all alone. But the girl did, eyes glued to the floor, and stood in the middle of the knot for a long second.
Silently, the Pukwudgie raised its arrow, and the girl's new house cheered, shattering the quiet. The Pukwudgie bowed to her, and she stepped with a nervous smile to the stairs under its pedestal.
The next name was called, and another new student stepped to the center of the hall. Wampus.
"There's one for you," August said over the roar of the six-legged wildcat, which paced and reared on its podium, and Penelope cheered with the rest of her house.
"Does he look like a duelist?" Penelope asked, leaning over the balcony to get a glimpse of the new student when the cheers had died down.
August shook his head. "You can't enjoy this for even a moment, can you?"
Penelope shot him a glare, but August was spared further punishment when the next student was called.
"Michael Brandt!"
Penelope pointed excitedly, "It's your brother!"
August rolled his eyes. "I did warn you he was coming."
"He looks — nothing like you!" Penelope said, drawing her voice to a whisper at the glares from the other students. The boy that stood below them had black hair to August's red-brown, and round features to her friend's sharp cheekbones; he wore thick-rimmed glasses and midnight blue robes. "Is he —?"
Augustus groaned when the Horned Serpent's stone lit up. "I thought I'd have another year free of the little miscreant," he sighed, and settled to glare in every direction but at his brother, chin resting on his arms.
Penelope tilted her head at him, but she knew he didn't like his family much, so she didn't say anything.
By the time the last names were called, it was nearly dark, and floating orbs of golden light had appeared from the ceiling to shine on the students like huge jellyfish, drifting above the balcony. Shadows were cast in dark shades of blue and purple, almost Ilvermorny colors.
"And the last student goes to Thunderbird!" cried Professor Bennett, a wide-eyed man who reminded Penelope of an owl. He taught one of the Charms classes, and had been, Penelope could see now, the teacher who had been leading the first years. "If everyone would join us through these doors, we have a great dinner planned for you all!" And he hurried the first years away.
The rest of the students streamed out of the doors, leaving the balcony strangely empty.
"Purple isn't a good look for you," August remarked, and when Penelope turned to say something foul, she found him smiling.
"Tease all you want," Penelope declared, "Tomorrow it's going back to blonde."
August started towards the stairs, leaving Penelope to catch up. "Uh-huh. So, see any good talent?"
"You joke, but you know we need to be on the lookout this year."
August snorted.
"Seriously! It's our last year, our last chance at that cup, and all we've got on the dueling team this year is us and —" she wrinkled her nose — "Tyler Atkins."
"What've you got against Tyler? He's a fine athlete."
"Yeah, a Quodpot athlete. He wouldn't know the front end of his wand if it poked him in the eye — he's a terrible klutz off the broom — he hasn't even read the dueling manual! You laugh —!" Penelope set her shoulders, indignant, "But he is literally all we have! The dueling team won't exist when we're gone. Ilvermorny needs a dueling team, August. We can't be the last ones." The dueling team had been getting smaller and smaller every year, until last year, when it had just been two seventh-years, her, August, and Tyler Atkins. They'd failed spectacularly, and Penelope refused to go through it again.
"We'll get some new members this year," August assured her as they rounded the corner. "Just you wait."
They stopped at the Great Hall's open doors with the last of the stragglers to admire the decorations. Ilvermorny colors decorated the hall, banners and ribbons draped along the rafters like wild vines, midnight and cranberry. In each corner of the hall danced a sparkling illusion of each house's mascot above its group of tables. There was Wampus, prowling majestically with its head in the air, and Horned Serpent, a translucent ribbon above the tables. A shimmering Thunderbird arced above a far corner, twisting and diving, and in the last corner was a sour-faced Pukwudgie, standing guard with its bow. The entire castle was made of the same white-grey stone, but the lights turned the Great Hall gold as a sunrise.
Augustus left to join the rest of the Horned Serpents at their tables, and Penelope wandered over to Wampus. Instead of long tables with benches, the Ilvermorny Great Hall was full of circular tables, and often mixing of groups was encouraged. But not tonight; tonight they celebrated their houses, and Penelope would be on her own.
Little stone six-legged cats prowled as centerpieces under the Wampus banners, delighting the first years and annoying the upperclassmen. One of the tables Penelope passed was attempting some kind of transfiguration on their statue, but it backfired and left their faces full of smoke. She stifled a laugh. There were students who would decidedly not be making the dueling team.
Penelope looked for her usual spot closer to the Horned Serpent side of the hall, but the only open seat was between a gaggle of first years on the other end. Just her luck.
"Hello," she said, sliding in between a yellow-haired boy and a dark-skinned girl. She struggled to remember their names. "I'm Penelope Alden, and you two must be... Willow Morris, and — Lincoln Erikson?"
"Edwards, Lincoln Edwards," the boy corrected her. He spoke with a Southern accent, but Penelope couldn't place which state. "Are you a seventh-year? My brother said to watch out for the older kids, said they always play pranks on the first years — he also said the staircases move, but I looked that up, and only Hogwarts staircases do that — but I heard this building is still magical — is it? I bet it is — only my brother likes to make stuff up, and my parents just laughed when I asked —"
Penelope met August's eyes across the hall, and mouthed a silent "Help me," across the room. The first year went on talking. August only smiled, and turned to one of the sixth-years he was sitting with to jump in on their conversation. Penelope sighed.
"Students, may I please have your attention!" It was Headmaster Fontaine. He was standing at the head of the professors' table, and tapped his glass again, a sound like a bell echoing through the hall. The students settled into quiet. "Before the food arrives, I would like to invite you to join us in our yearly rendition of the school song." He clapped his hands, and various tables broke out into wild animal calls, stunning the first years into shocked silence.
"Purr-purr!" Penelope called, laughing at the startled faces of the first years. "Come on, you're Wampus, too. Purr-purr!" she cried again, and this time several of them joined her. Around the room were yells of hisses and caws, and it sounded like a zoo had joined together to form a choir. Penelope couldn't help but smile, dueling temporarily forgotten.
And then they broke out into song.
Penelope was so busy trying to get the first years to join in that she missed half of it, joining in with her table on the third stanza:
Oh! Ilvermorny-Massachusetts!
We choo-choose it!
We choo-choose it!
The wizard school supreme.
Your castle walls, they kept us safe.
The days with you, a dream
You taught us all our magic
And now one thing's quite clear
Where'er we roam
Where'er we roam
Our one true home
Our one and own
Is Ilvermorny dear! *
"My brother made this sound so much worse," Lincoln exclaimed, cheeks red, "It's just like a pep rally! Does Ilvermorny have cheerleaders?" He asked Penelope sincerely, but she was spared from answering by the Headmaster calling for quiet once more.
"A warm welcome to all our new students!" Fontaine said, letting applause roll around the room like thunder. He rolled back his sleeves, and a wand appeared in his hand. A smile spread across his face. With a spontaneous gesture, fireworks broke out above the tables, red and blue and purple. "Let the school year begin!"
The students cheered, and only grew louder when piles of food appeared on the tables. Penelope laughed when glitter from the fireworks settled in her hair, waving at August when he glanced her direction. She must have looked ridiculous, surrounded by first years, sparkles in her purple hair, but she didn't really care just then. For one last year, she was home. And she was going to enjoy it.
"I'm Delilah Schroeder," announced a first year across the table as Penelope and the rest of the group gathered food onto their plates. "Did you remember my name, too?"
Penelope hadn't. She nodded anyway. "Of course." Change the subject, before they all start asking you to recite names, she thought frantically, trying to think of something she could talk about with first years. "Are you all, um, excited to learn magic this year?"
"Oh, yes," said Delilah, "I think I'm going to be the best witch in the class!"
Willow, the girl sitting beside Penelope, spoke up. "Says who?"
"Says my sister," retorted Delilah, sticking her nose in the air. Oh no, thought Penelope, eyebrow raised, a first-year power struggle. "She says I'm going to be the best at charms. And I asked that teacher we were with earlier, Professor Beckett, and he said —!"
"Alright," said Penelope, loudly. "Enough. How about we all just wait until you get to Charms in the first place. And all of you quote your older siblings too much. Be your own person."
She thought this was sage advice to be distributing to first years, but the rest of the table didn't seem to agree. They pointedly ignored her the rest of the meal.
August didn't seem to share this problem. He was in the middle of some grand story at his table, gesturing wildly around the room. She stuck her tongue out at him, but he didn't appear to notice.
Just when the hall was starting to get quiet, and Penelope had eaten so much cheesecake that she could hardly stand to look at it, Headmaster Fontaine called for silence, tapping once more on his glass. He cleared his throat, and, reading off a sheet of parchment, began: "Before we send you off to the dorms, we have some announcements to make! First, Quodpot tryouts will be held in two weeks, and you can see your house leader with any questions. They'll be introduced to you shortly. Second, this is our yearly reminder that the West Woods are strictly off limits for all students. Again, all students. Third, class rosters will be posted in the house common areas tomorrow, so keep an eye out! I believe —" he raised a pair of spectacles to his nose, "Yes, that concludes the announcements. Any questions?"
There was a moment of silence in which the students, ready to slip into food-induced comas, didn't say a word.
"Well, then, we'll be on our way to the dorms. House leaders, if you would?"
Around the hall, seventh-years stood up. With three for each house, house leaders were like Hogwarts' Prefects. They were in charge of making sure their students knew where to go, and later in the year, stayed out of trouble. At the end of each year, the previous year's leaders would pick from the nominated sixth-years, and choose three to lead the house when they were gone. Penelope hadn't entered her name to be nominated, but August had, and, golden boy that he was, had been one of the three chosen for Horned Serpent.
Penelope followed her house down the hallways, bringing up the rear with one of Wampus's leaders.
"Penelope! It's good to see you again!" Sorrel enthused, a smile lighting up her face. Her excitement didn't spread to Penelope. "It's a shame about the dueling club, though."
"What's a shame?" Penelope demanded.
"Oh, I only meant — since it looked like it was getting disbanded this year —"
"The dueling team," Penelope declared, "Is far from being disbanded. We're making a comeback this year."
"Oh, sure," Sorrel said, quiet. They didn't talk for the rest of the way to the common room.
Ilvermorny branched off into two parts behind the Great Hall. One for dorms, and one for classrooms. The dorms side branched off into four parts of its own, one for each house, in the common area. A huge living room-study hall combination, all houses were invited to gather there together, but they slept in different towers.
Penelope sunk into one of her favorite cranberry armchairs outside Wampus Tower. She felt like she could melt into it and disappear. The dueling team, disbanded? Where had Sorrel gotten that idea? And if Sorrel had heard about it, Penelope was sure that the rest of the school thought the team was done for. Sorrel was often the last one to catch up on house news, engrossed as she always was in schoolwork.
Absently, she braided strands of her hair, staring at the opposite side of the common room. Specifically, at a square on its wall. Old posters for school dances and class field trips peeled away from tacks. She started to form a horrible, stupid idea. Oh, August would hate her for it. But the dueling team would not die — it couldn't. Penelope would do anything, everything, to bring it back.
* The Ilvermorny school song is taken from this page, and was written by Alison Sudol and J.K. Rowling