Chapter 2
Title: Follow the Magic
Author: Clarissa
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
Distribution: Please ask permission before posting elsewhere.
Timeline for BTVS is between Seasons 3 and 4.
A/N: I have chosen a Hogwarts Scooby gang for Willow, but you won’t see it take shape for a few more chapters.
Chapter 2
Willow strolled down Charing Cross Road and turned onto Shaftesbury Avenue as she followed the magical path she’d mapped out in her mind. She thought back to last week in Sunnydale.
After graduation, they had all been in a daze. A rare calm had settled over Sunnydale while everyone, good and evil, regular and supernatural, absorbed the emotional and magical recoil. Barely a week into this fog, Willow felt a need to just be out in the sunshine, hoping the warmth and light would drive away her unsettling memories of graduation.
Spreading a beach towel in the backyard, she pulled out a novel (a classic– Daddy-Long-Legs), lay on her stomach and settled down to escape into a world far from her own. Absorbed in the story (the main character had just been sent to college by a mysterious benefactor), she hadn’t even noticed the odd sight of an owl soaring above her. As the letter landed lightly atop her outstretched back, Willow jerked back into reality. She glanced around, half expecting Xander to be standing there ready to crack a joke about her total immersion in her book. But no one was there, not a soul (or un-soul, as the case often was).
Turning over the envelope in her hands, she noticed the odd address penned in emerald ink:
Miss Willow Rosenberg
The Backyard
240 Camino del Arbol
Sunnydale, California
It was weird, to be sure, but so were a lot of things in Sunnydale. Looking up, she nearly jumped as she came face to face with an inquisitive-looking owl. Nervously, she offered him some crackers she’d brought outside with her, and he accepted with gusto. Shrugging off the oddness of the whole situation, she opened the seal. Inside she found two pieces of cream-colored parchment covered with elegant green script. The letter read:
Dear Miss Rosenberg,
It has come to our attention that you are a practicing witch but have no formal training and no experience with wand work. Although the Salem Witches Institute has been lax in its duties by not extending an offer of admission to its educational program, we at Hogwarts feel you should not miss out on future opportunities, such as university, in the magical world because of this lapse.
Training at Hogwarts normally begins at age 11. However, in your case, we are willing to make a compromise. We would like to offer you summer tutoring in addition to one year of class instruction at Hogwarts to prepare you for a magical university education.
Because this is a timely issue, we expect your owl no later than June 25.
Should you decide to accept our offer, we will have a representative of the school meet you in London July 1.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
“This has to be a joke,” Willow whispered in disbelief.
Her novel forgotten, she slipped her shoes on and stood up. Giles would know if this letter was real. Turning to the owl, she said, “Just... don’t leave. Have all the crackers you want.”
Either the owl really was magical or her imagination was working overtime, because Willow could’ve sworn the owl winked at her.
* * * *
The moment Giles opened the door, Willow launched into full-scale babble mode.
“Are there magical owls? Or demon ones? And wands? Who uses those? If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it’s not funny, mister. If this is a joke, there will be major pouting and frowning.”
Overwhelmed, Giles said simply, “Why don’t we have a cup of tea?”
* * * *
With a steaming kettle of Earl Grey between them, Willow and Giles sat at the kitchen table. The letter lay beside it.
“My knowledge of the ‘magical world’ is rather limited, I’m afraid,” Giles began. “I have had a few occasions over the years to run into magical folk, although they don’t practice the same sort of magic as us. There are different skills and tools used in Wiccan and wand magic, and frankly, they rarely cross over.”
“You mean most people don’t do both?”
“Most people can’t, Willow. Both require skill, talent and practice. For Hogwarts to be making you this offer, they must consider you to be very talented and studious but also quite powerful.” Giles paused. “It would mean a year away from all your friends, but if this offer is legitimate, you ought to take advantage of it. They can offer you magical guidance and instruction that I can’t. I certainly don’t want you to learn the dangers of magic the hard way, like I did. Think about it. I’ll check it out with my contacts.”
* * * *
Giles’ contact, whoever he was, had confirmed that the offer was legitimate.
“And that’s how I got here,” Willow mused.
Shaking herself from her memories, Willow realized that she was on the street she’d seen in her mental magic wanderings. And there it was, just past the bookstore. The grimy pub sign was dark, but Willow could just make out the name: The Leaky Cauldron.
She grasped the door handle, and it seemed to crackle with magic, like static. The feeling lasted only a moment and was gone. Checking her watch, she pulled the door open and stepped inside. 1 p.m., right on time.
The pub was musty and dark, but the atmosphere seemed friendly enough. A variety of oddly-dressed people sat at the tables and the bar. The faint aroma of fried fish reminded Willow it was lunchtime, and her stomach grumbled.
As she stood by the entryway, scanning the room for someone who looked like a school representative, a girl about Willow’s age walked up to her.
“Hello. Are you Willow?” she asked.
Willow nodded, and the girl continued.
“I hope you’re up for some shopping. Professor McGonagall sent me to help you get school supplies and then bring you back on the train.”
A/N: Can you guess who Willow’s guide is?
I wrote this chapter on a plane to Cleveland-- maybe it'll bring me luck from the Scoobies ;0)
I couldn't find an address for Willow pre-university, so I made one up.
Stay tuned for shopping in Diagon Alley fluff!
*Review please*
