...And Away We Go!

That strange feeling of being new was hanging heavily in the air – you could really feel the tension in the compartment; you could almost cut it with a dull butter knife. But still, everybody soldiered on and tried to hide the nerves thatwere bubbling right under the surface.

When Elspeth started to speak, it was as if an electric shock went through his body; everything sprang into action, and he clung to her every word, afraid of missing something important. – ‘Oh, an Unspeakable.. I’ve heard of them, my papá is working at the ministry, and sometimes during dinner he mentions them…’ Marcus avoided any eye contact and focused on his shoes, - ‘But nobody really knows what they are doing. Except themselves, of course. It is top secret and all that.’ He knew that it was something very mysterious and very secretive about what they worked on, and that was why they were called Unspeakable. Though one time he overheard by mistake a conversation between his papá and someone from work talking about something that had happened in a “time-room”.

-‘She is running an inn? That’s some completely different, and a different pace. What is the name of the inn?’ Marcus was almost sitting on the edge of the seat, and this feeling spreading through his body was absolutely something new; he usually doesn´t get this involved in people’s lives or stories, especially not this quickly.

Marcus sat with wide eyes when Elspeth said: - ‘I don't know many our age who read the Quibbler. What's gotten you interested in it?’ and immediately he looked down at the magazine. - ‘Actually, I’ve been reading the Quibbler for some time now, and yes, you’re spot on about the reader-demographic is more for “grown-ups”.’ Marcus runs a hand through his curly hair and smiles awkwardly - ‘But I find it refreshing in some strange way. My nonna always says that you need to see all sides of the hill to get the full scope of it. Aaaand also for pure entertainment.’ He locked eyes with Ripley and replied, - ‘Well, there are two articles that caught my eye; “Erumpent horn: New explosive ways in your daily potions.” and "The dark side of the Montrose Magpies!”’ With the last article title, Marcus gives a little cheeky smile…

The conversation was moving now and Ripley was overjoyed. When people are comfortable enough to shift from topic to unrelated topic and candidly admit to being interested in the place of erumpent horn in modern potion-making, they're really getting somewhere. Ripley glanced out the window -- the journey to Hogwarts was underway! Hopefully the snack cart would be coming through sometime soon, he thought. Living between non-mag and wizarding worlds meant that he got less of a chance to indulge in magical sweets than the average wizard child and so they held a special attraction for him. But did Marcus just say something about the Magpies?

"The dark side of the Magpies, eh? Is it that they're awful, they cheat, and their kit makes them look like referees?" Ripley was always up for a little light-hearted trash talk, especially about the precious Maggies, "Now the Kestrels, on the other hand, play in a truly splendid green! Let's see the Quibbler try to tussle with that." He added, giving Marcus a wink.

He hoped his fellow traveler had a sense of humor, but just as well they'd talk about something else. Likely Elspeth, and maybe the others had no feeling for Quidditch. Actually, it was probably most tactful for the group not to get into an all-out donnybrook about the game. Heaven forbid there was Cannons fan among them -- there was no way to avoid stepping in it with one of those. A change of subject would be most propitious, Ripley thought, and said:

"Where do you come from, Crawford? And, more importantly, did your nonna play Quidditch at Hogwarts like Aunt Nessie?"

Nobody has a boring family, Ripley mused, few were topics that were quite so fertile.

Marcus looked quickly, up and down Ripley. – It was clear that he was a more athletic build than Marcus. Beside his physic, Marcus also noticed that Ripley was looking towards the door like he was expecting someone or something, - ‘Are you expecting someone?’
Ripley resembled his older brother Enzo, with a perfect build to play the physical sport, Quidditch. So, it came as no surprise that he had a favourite team, and Marcus found himself at a disadvantage with his lack of sports knowledge, but he mustered a good amount of confidence and flashed a smile combined with a simple chuckle. – ‘Well, I guess somebody isn’t a fan of the Magpies. You will find this article veeeeery interesting. It’s all about how the magpies are performing dark ancient rituals to keep the success rolling. It’s a typical Quibbler article, the usual funny and strange theory and allegation about the things that could be…..’ Marcus was out of breath after speaking so eagerly and fast. – ‘True… I like the stories and theories, but I must admit that I perhaps also find it interesting due to my brother Enzo, who is a Beater for the Magpies.’ Marcus saw Ripleys wink – and kind of knew that it was all in a light-hearted tease. Marcus felt a quiet relief inside himself and automatically leaned back into the seat and became more comfortable in the situation.

There was a break in the talks, it was one of those situation his nonna had told him about, she had called it “letting the room breath” and was a normal and good thing, letting the conversation sprouting roots, Marcus could feel that it was different compared to those awkward talks he have had with far out relatives or other children he was forced to spend time with.

The very short silence was broken by Ripley – he sounded very sincere that he wanted to know Marcus, he even gave him a nickname, Crawford. Marcus straightened up a bit and turned to both Elspeth and Ripley so he would speak to both, -‘hmm. How to explain it. You can say that I’m sort of a mix, my mamma is Italian and from the beautiful city of Venesia, and papá is from Lanarkshire in Scotland.’ Marcus goes silent for a moment before continuing, - ‘Maybe you know him, or I mean, my family? Usually, people know them or of them.’ His face falls a bit after that statement, but not for long, not after Ripley's question about his nonna.

Marcus chuckles a bit before replying -‘I haven’t asked, but my nonna Morag, is one tough witch. She also went to Hogwarts, was captain of the duelling team, and head of the charms club. You would like to be on the wrong side of her hexes. I could definitely see her play on the house team, but my nonna Angelica, that’s a different story. She is my favourite nonna, she is sweet and helpful. My mamma once told me that her mother used to run a small and very popular bar in Venesia…. I don’t know if you know, but a bar is sort of a coffee or tea house in a very Italian way…’ Suddenly, he realized that he had been talking for quite some time. His face turned a bit red, and a warm flush spread over his ears. – ‘Anyway, that's a bit about me… what about you guys? Where are you from??’….

Stephanie looks a bit startled about the story she had interrupted "Well...I suppose breaking her crush's leg is certainly one way to get his attention." She remembers being told that if a boy teases you, then that means she likes you, but she never really believed that; perhaps it was true. "Quidditch?" She leans forward in curiosity; she had no idea what that was, and the words beater and the team names confused her mind further.

"And what is a Quibbler?" she tries to get a glimpse of the front cover hoping to provide some clarification as to what this 'Quibbler' was. It was a rather strange name for...well, anything and it had her wondering about its origin, and if it was named after anything in particular, whatever it was.

She makes a mental note as to the people in the carriage. Okay, so there's Elspeth and Ripley, who she met first, followed by Laurie, and finally Marcus. That wasn't too hard to remember. They all looked quite nice, and she hoped at least one of them was in at least 2nd year, she needed so much advice, and barely knew anything about the wizarding world she'd ended up in.

"What year are you all in?"

Ripley looked around the compartment, Elspeth and Laurie were off in their own worlds distracted from the conversation at hand. Marcus and Stephanie, however, were here and engaged. Fine, he thought, it was those that wanted to converse that would keep the conversation fresh and warm, not unlike the smell of fresh bread at a Parisian bakery. Speaking of foreign places, Stephanie seemed confused about Quidditch and Quibbler both. This hadn't come up during their previous conversation, but she must be from an non-mag family, Ripley thought, to not know Quidditch -- that would be like growing up in the UK and not knowing about soccer.

He'd had a foot in both worlds through most of his life so, in a way, nearly every person he met had some cultural blind spots. His non-mag friends would find it unthinkable that there was a whole world filled with hexes and broomsticks, just as his purely wizard peers couldn't imagine a broomstick that didn't fly or a still photo. That is all to say that Ripley understood Stephanie's predicament and it was never too late to learn something new, provided one was curious.

"Quidditch, Stephanie," he smiled at her, "is the football of the wizarding world, only way more exciting. It's played on brooms..." and he went on to give her a short but rollicking introduction to the world's most action-packed sport. The Quibbler, though, that wasn't one Ripley was as keen to go into as quidditch. Still, it would be uncivilized to leave his friend hanging, he proceeded cautiously:

"The Quibbler, well, it's like Crawford here said, it's a magazine that's usually for grown-ups that gives all sides of issues. Like, really, all sides, even ones that are not so close to reality. For example, the one about the Magpies using dark rituals to keep on winning..." Ripley pokes Marcus playfully, "...could be true, not sure how else they would win otherwise (Crawford's brother's play notwithstanding) buuuut it probably isn't. You'll find all sorts of weird stuff in there."

Satisfied that Stephanie was now mostly up-to-speed on wizarding world trivia, Ripley felt comfortable moving on to another important topic, himself! He looked at Marcus.

"I was born in the beautiful city of Kilkenny and suppose I could call it home, but it wouldn't be totally accurate. My family spend part of the year there, in between my travelling for our parent's work. My father is a robe designer -- I doubt you've heard of him. We go with him around the world creating unusual pieces for clients, as well as working on different robes for art galleries and museums, and his own runway collections. My mother is a journalist and presenter, mostly about travel and lifestyle, for TV and the like. Originally, she worked with media on both sides of the magic line, but these days she's more on the mag side.

If I had to say where my true home was, I'd say it was wherever my family is at any moment. It's home when we're all together whether it's in an airport or hotel room in some city we've never been. But...now I'm here and they're...somewhere else."

Ripley paused, mind hooked on his parents and sister, temporarily losing his confident, composed aura. Nearly instantly, however, the mask came back up and he smiled broadly at Marcus and Stephanie.

"This is going to be my first year at Hogwarts! Following in my father's footsteps. It looks like a few of us will be doing that with El's aunt and Marcus's nonna and Enzo...But not Stephanie." He looked at the girl who appeared just a little bit bewildered at being singled out by the sudden turn in the boy's monologue, "I imagine you'll be blazing your very own path!"