The New Littles C. Vierling Closed

─────Calypso Vierling began to make her way to the table of green, the previous unwelcome mix of apprehension and anxiety fading away, instead allowing the sweet feeling of relief knowing that it was over to fill her mind instead. Her pulse thundered in her ears, deaf to the sorting that was still continuing as she ignored a few lingering stares. Slytherin, she repeated to herself, finding her thoughts dwelling on it. The sorting hat had said something about those in Slytherin being cunning, though that was the only thing she had actually heard about it trait-wise.

The sorting was far more dramatic than what Calypso had expected for her first day at Hogwarts, though she had no doubt the majority of it was a slog for older students, or did they find some enjoyment in anxious first-years and the climax of the hat yelling their houses out? Well, she would probably find out for herself in the upcoming years at Hogwarts, a period of seven years that seemed at once too long and too short.

Empty spots were scattered around the Slytherin table, the pupils around them possessing no familiarity to Calypso except for a few she had seen on the express. Seeing the sea of robes emblazoned with green and coiled serpents, there was a strange feeling fluttering inside her chest knowing that those people would become something akin to a second family, following her throughout the majority of her years at Hogwarts. The intimate itch of nervousness appeared again, faint but still there, sticking to her similarly to tar. It wasn’t every year that she was anxious on her first day at school, Calypso was social and independent enough to be on her own, at least that's why she liked to believe. However, she was entering a new world of wizardry, a world where fantasy came to life and miracles could be performed with a flick of a wand. It certainly wasn’t an ordinary school and it would be strange if she didn’t feel slightly nervous.

Locating an empty seat closer to her than the others, Calypso began to make her way towards it. On one side of it was a taller girl who seemed quite far into her journey at Hogwarts, with fair skin and dark hair, though whether it was a dark shade of brown or black slipped her mind, the warm lighting of the candles muddling up Calypso’s perception. She was pretty, as best as an eleven-year-old could judge, though possessed a certain quality that made her look cold and aloof. Perhaps a bit intimidating as well, serving as a warning signal to not bother her, but Calypso had never been one to take warnings seriously until she experienced it herself.

The ends of her black robe flowing around her, Calypso took a seat next to the older girl, intrigue urging her to ask the other student what exactly she would learn at Hogwarts. Spells, of course, and potion-making, the most basic of information she could gather using a mix of common sense and checking the supplies she was meant to buy, though she knew nothing else. That train of thought attracted the looming notion that she was already most likely behind other first-years whose parents had attended Hogwarts previously, so she would be eager for any morsel of information to prepare her for lessons.

Still, she swallowed back the burning question, a small smile playing on her lips as she waved hello, tilting her head up due to the rather noticeable height difference. “Hey,” Calypso greeted in a hushed voice so as to not interrupt the relative silence in the hall as yet another student got sorted.

─────The older girl’s gaze fell on Calypso, a gaze that felt probing, that felt as if it was seeing beyond exterior appearances. It brought some unease to the first year, who still maintained her own gaze at the witch, watching as they twirled their finger in the air. Taking a second to interpret the gesture, she gave a slight nod before redirecting her attention to the sorting ceremony. The response was more lacklustre than what Calypso had expected, but not exactly what she would consider unfriendly. Perhaps it could be categorised as indifferent, or stern.

Now that she wasn’t waiting in restlessness for her turn to be sorted and rather sitting as part of the audience, she found the process slightly monotonous, if not tedious. Patience had never been a strong trait of hers and she could only fight the urge to fidget or withdraw her attention from the ceremony taking place, though often she found her gaze gravitating to the decor of the hall.

Eventually, the sorting finished and the cohort of first-years had all been seated. A quiet “Oh, wow,” couldn’t help but slip from Calypso’s lips, an expression of mild wonder after seeing the platters of food appear stretching from one end of the lengthy table to the other, each seeming decadent and appetising. For someone who spent the majority of her early life in a rural village without much variety in foods and rarely fully quelled her hunger after meals, a faint trace of awe couldn’t help be present after viewing the feast laid out in front of her. This combined with the hunger from the train ride on the Hogwarts Express which spanned hours, with only a few snacks as sustenance made Calypso all the more eager to taste the food.

Still, as she contentedly ate, a sliver of a nagging doubt remained. It was a circling pest, the knowledge that Calypso had absolutely no idea what would happen in her lessons or how to even cast spells. She hated the lack of information, leaving her with no control of the situation and no chance to prepare herself. What if she failed at casting a spell? Or didn’t know something basic? And while she had read through some of the books she had bought, she didn’t know what information she should be paying attention to and what she didn’t need.

This had always been a concern for her, that she would fall behind all her classmates. If others were paying attention, they could probably sense the unease of Calypso with her ruminating doubts which she desperately wanted to ignore but couldn’t. Wanting to appease her burning anxiety, she realised her best chance of gaining some foresight was to ask someone who had already experienced the first year lessons. Hesitating slightly, she turned to the older witch who had gestured for her to pay attention to the ceremony after she sat down.

“Excuse me, are…are the first lessons hard?” The girl asked, a thick German accent coating her words. Slightly stumbling over her question, she fidgeted with the fabric of her robe, waiting for the answer.

“Excuse me, are…are the first lessons hard?”

─────There was a prolonged moment where the older girl glanced at Calypso before looking around, causing her to think that they would brush the question off and simply ignore her. She felt a hint of awkwardness, too unused to the foreign idea of asking someone else for guidance, a concept which she possessed an inherent dislike for. If anything, she actively tried to avoid it, exhausting all her options before turning to someone else, but what could she do in this situation, faced with a world she hadn’t even known existed until a couple of weeks ago? Watching the older girl expectantly, she disregarded the discomfort and thankfully soon enough, they began to speak.

Calypso intently listened, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. The answer seemed too vague, maybe a satisfactory response in some other situations, but not now, not for her. Still, she nodded, preparing herself to express her gratitude and hide the faint disappointment she was feeling. After all, she did put the older girl on the spot, and it could be hard to scrounge up the right words to say when approached with questions like the one she asked herself. If push came to shove, there were plenty of other people for her to ask, the only question was how many times she had to swallow her pride to do so.

Her string of thoughts was then interrupted as the other witch began to speak again. The last line of what they said reminded Calypso of a quote in an old self-help book her mom had bought second-hand, though it was entirely applicable in this situation. “Thanks,” she said, a small smile on her face, tugging at the corners of her mouth. The advice hadn’t exactly been what she was looking for, though it did reassure her, at least a little. Feeling as though the older girl deserved a reason for the sudden question and pushed by the more talkative side of her, she soon continued speaking. “Sorry for springing the question on you, I was just…kinda nervous about the classes. I barely know anything about magic and I’m worried I’m going to make a fool of myself or something.” she earnestly explained.

It felt somewhat nice to get off her chest, she realised. After a couple of moments, she felt that it would only be courteous to introduce herself in case the older girl didn’t pay much attention to her sorting or didn’t remember. “I’m Calypso by the way, if you didn’t already know from the sorting. What’s your name?”

─────“Illo-Illovy? Illowy?” she muttered quietly to herself, pronouncing the ‘w’ as a ‘v’. Scrunching up her nose, she attempted to smooth out her accent as she repeated the name. Frowning slightly, she asked another question. “Sixth year? What spells have you learned so far?” the first year asked, a slight tilt to her head. Calypso doubted this was the first time the older girl, Illowy(what country did that name originate from, she wondered) had heard this question, but intrigue had gotten the best of her. Her eyes were filled with curiosity, what spells would she herself eventually learn? What spells even were there? There were several - some outlandish, ideas circulating in her head, derived from the various attempts at capturing magic from movies and books alike.

The older girl had already attended Hogwarts for five years, a vast amount of time in Calypso’s perspective, close to half of all the years she had lived, and it was difficult to imagine herself that forward in time. What would she be like five years from now? What was she like five years ago? Her memories pertaining to when she was around seven or eight were already fading, only a few specific ones remained etched in her mind. Her first instance of magic was around that age, a moment that was still vivid in her mind’s eye, filled with a strange mix of fear and relief. Calypso certainly wouldn’t forget about it anytime soon.

Illowy’s continued talk scattered the rest of her thoughts, saying something about muggle-borns and what Calypso had to assume were two creatures of the wizarding world. “Yeah, I suppose. That’s one saving grace at least,” she replied, a small sigh at the end of her words. Calypso was pretty sure that she was a half-blood, her father being a wizard, at least according to her mother. However, she was as good as muggle-born when it came to her prior knowledge of the wizarding world. Still, according to what the older witch explained, she hopefully wouldn’t be too behind.

The older witch brushed a few strands of her hair back as they resumed talking. Calypso nodded, what Illowy was saying being quite obvious, a truth that she had never bothered to dwell on. She would have to mess up at one point, she would be delusional to think otherwise.“Hopefully it’ll be later rather than sooner,” she remarked.

─────Confusion was evident on Calypso’s face when faced with the unfamiliar term of ‘poppet’. She was decently fluent in English, though some slang and specific idioms were lost on her. She could swear she had heard the term somewhere before, most likely from some channel on the television or a movie that she had already forgotten. The girl didn’t bother to scour through the mediums she had consumed for an answer to what the word meant, instead choosing to focus on the levitation charm Illowy had described. There was an inkling of trepidation knowing many wizards before her had struggled with the spell, though that was quickly overshadowed by excitement. “Ooh, a levitation charm?” she responded; a spell to make things float was near the top of her list for cliche magic spells. “Could you show me?” Calypso inquired, excitement and intrigue transparent in her eyes.


A somewhat guilty small smile bloomed on her face as the older witch began to laugh, before continuing to talk. Potions blowing up? Spells completely backfiring? Calypso had had some lingering thoughts on whether that was a thing before coming to Hogwarts, but now it was confirmed. It wasn’t a pleasant realisation, one she mentally added to the ‘worry about it later’ section in her mind. It was like what the older girl had said moments before, she was bound to mess up at one point so there wasn’t any use obsessing over it, although the girl had a feeling she wouldn’t be sticking too close to that in the future. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes once moving staircases were mentioned. It seemed like a challenge to the girl, just like the towering trees back at home which she had climbed often - though much less after her first instance of magic. Calypso wanted to get a look at the moving stairs for herself, deciding that she would probably get a peak at the staircases once the feast was over, if not go on them.

“Huh, yeah.” Calypso began, a pondering look on her face once Illowy stopped talking “When you say it like that, it sounds a bit better.” she admitted, looking up at them. “You know, you give good advice. You could make a good philosopher.” the girl remarked, an off-hand comment that she wasn’t sure if the older girl would think of as praise or an insult.

“So duelling is a thing in this school?” the young witch continued. The thought of duelling was certainly an interesting one, reminding her of the fencing and martial arts she had always wanted to do, only to be met with a firm no from her mom. “What’s it like? And if you’re duelling with someone, couldn’t you seriously injure the other person?”