HARRY POTTER AND THE FLACK-JACKET MAFIA
by Canadibrit

(Note to TLAS readers -- this fic takes place instead of Tour of Duty.
For Potterfans, this is sort of my crossover answer to Order of the Phoenix.)


(Scene: McIntyre Manor, kitchen. Carol is sitting at the kitchen table, leafing through a bunch of coupons. AP comes in, looking a little sad and apprehensive.)

AP: Hey ... Mom?

Carol: (not looking up) Yes, dear?

AP: Just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving for England in a few days.

Carol: Didn't you do that?

AP: Last Christmas, Mom. We're gonna stay at Purple Peril's aunt's again.

Carol: Purple...?

AP: (sigh) Lynn Cullen, Mom.

Carol: Oh, your little girlfriend...

AP: (wince) No, Mom. See, first I went out with her and then she moved and then we moved and then I went out with... (begins to realise that the concept even confuses him) Never mind.

Carol: (whose mind has drifted elsewhere) You said England?

AP: (sad) Yeah, Mom.

Carol: Well, you should probably drop in on Arthur while you're there.

AP: (fear; "is she taking a turn for the worse?") Who?

Carol: Arthur, dear. My brother. I haven't seen him in ... oh, the longest time. I don't even remember...

AP: (looking askance at her) I guess, Mom. Where does ... Uncle Arthur live?

Carol: I think his address is with your father's little black phone book. But he wouldn't like you looking in there, so...

AP: Don't worry, Mom. I'll find ... Uncle Arthur.

Carol: Oh, and send my love, will you? I haven't seen him in ever so long...

AP: Sure, Mom, no problem...

(He steps out of the kitchen and into the main hall. As he exits, he stops and shakes his head in utter confusion.)

AP: (mutter to himself) Uncle Arthur?

(He spies Fred asleep on the sofa, and his briefcase on the armchair near the front door. He flips it open and digs, finding the little black phone book in question. He scribbles out a note on a Post-It and drops the book as Fred stirs and grumbles his way awake. AP shuts the briefcase, but too late to escape detection.)

Fred: What are you doing in my briefcase, Andrew?

AP: Uuuhhhh... Looking for Post-Its! I needed a few for an experiment I'm working on cos if I don't mark which is which I'm gonna...

Fred: Okay, okay, that's enough! Now can I go back to my nap without worrying about you rocking the house on its foundations?

AP: Sure, dad! (big grin)

Fred: I don't know about you sometimes, Andrew.

AP: No one does! That's half the fun! (Fred groans and settles down. AP steels himself, then...) Dad?

Fred: (eyes still closed) What, Andrew?

AP: I met your sisters, but I never met any of Mom's family. Doesn't she have any brothers or sisters anywhere?

Fred: (emphatic) No. And keep an eye on your mother if she ever starts mentioning ... things like that. It could be signs that she's getting unstable again.

AP: (looking askance at his dad this time) Right, Dad. Sure. I'll see you later.

(Fred settles down to his nap as AP tromps up to his room.)


*** Now talking in #dv8s
*** Topic is 'If you wanted affection, buy a puppy. We bite.'
*** Set by Purple_Peril on Jun 27 14:45:38
<Psycho-Maverick> Hey ho, Purple Peril...
<Purple_Peril> Salutations, Maverick. You 'sound' dubious about something.
<Psycho-Maverick> I am, kinda.
<Purple_Peril> Do I have to *pry* it out of you?
<Psycho-Maverick> Noooo... see, you know I thought MOm didn't have any sis' or bros or anything?
<Purple_Peril> Yeah. Turns out she does or something?
<Psycho-Maverick> Yeah. In ENGALND.
<Purple_Peril> *chuckle* Your typing sometimes...
<Psycho-Maverick> I'm upset, K? I got the news that I got an uncle!
<Psycho-Maverick> & 7 cousins!
<Psycho-Maverick> IN *ENGLAND*!
<Purple_Peril> Okay, okay, calm down.
<Psycho-Maverick> But dad lied to me about it too! he said that mom didn't nave any bros or anythign & if she told me she did he might have yer locked up!
<Purple_Peril> CHILL!
<Purple_Peril> You know where these people live?
<Psycho-Maverick> Yeah. They don't have a phone or an email or anything, so I guess I better send a telegram or sommethign.
<Purple_Peril> To...?
<Psycho-Maverick> Let em know i'm coming! I gotta MEET em, Peril!
<Purple_Peril> Well ... I'm sure there are B&Bs in ... wherever.
<Purple_Peril> We can do that, sure.
<Psycho-Maverick> Cool! It's ... Ottery St Catchpole.
<Purple_Peril> Ottery ... St Catchpole?
<Psycho-Maverick> Yeah! Heard of it?
<Purple_Peril> Think Lorna mentioned it. Once.
<Purple_Peril> What are their names? I never did ask Carol's maiden.
<Psycho-Maverick> Says here Weasley. Arthur and Molly Weasley.
<Purple_Peril> O_O
<Psycho-Maverick> ?
<Purple_Peril> Nothing. Just something I saw somewhere.
<Purple_Peril> I have to go. I have to make a call.
<Purple_Peril> Pizza King. Eight.
*** Purple_Peril has quit #dv8s (Quit: "Beautify America. FOD.")
<Psycho-Maverick> ...you have a DSL connection...
<Psycho-Maverick> Drat.


(Scene: Pizza King, evening. AP is sitting at their booth, poking ice to the bottom of a cup of soda with his straw. Enter Jane, sketchbook under her arm. She stops short when she sees AP.)

Jane: She called you too, huh?

AP: Nah. I was on IRC with her.

Jane: Oh. (beat) AP, you know there is a little invention called the phone? Very convenient, and you don't have to push as many buttons?

AP: Well, yeah, but my phone line's always tied up with the 'puter anyway. Besides, typing I can do. With a spell check. It's handwriting that's a bitch.

Jane: I gotta give you that. (sits down) So do you know what's going on this time?

AP: Nope. Not a clue. You expect me to know? (bitter grumble) I mean, I've only been her best friend since we were running around keeping Chris Hutchins from beating the crap outta us...

Jane: Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's hiding stuff from her own sister.

AP: Been there, done that...

Jane: Ate the T-shirt?

AP: Ha. (beat) Seriously. Mom just told me I have an uncle and some cousins in England. And Dad said that if she started telling me that, we should have her looked at by the doc again. But I saw the name in his phone book.

Jane: (blink) Another mystery afoot? Sheesh, when are we calling in Robert Stack?

AP: Dunno, but I think it's beginning to suck.

(enter Lynn, looking a little unnerved)

Lynn: (sitting down next to Jane) Where's Daria?

Jane: Oh, she had to get around Quinn ... something about, if she can be in a school play, she must want to look good some of the time. She's gonna rat out Quinn's last scheme for staying out past curfew and wait for the fireworks, then run like hell.

Lynn: So she'll get here soon? I don't want to have to repeat this.

AP: Purple Peril? What's going on? I mean, what happened to that tour of the US?

Jane: Yeah. I hope you realise I'm only going along on this England thing again because I can't take Trent's whining about losing his singer and a great tour to "family crap".

Lynn: Something came up and it seems I need you guys along too. For company if nothing else.

(Enter Daria, looking annoyed, carrying a bag.)

Daria: I'm staying at one of your houses tonight, no questions asked.

Lynn: I'm curious now.

Daria: Somehow I got blamed for the window breaking.

Jane: Whoa! You went Lynn? Way to go, Daria!

Daria: I didn't do anything...

(Flashback to Morgendorffer living room. Daria steps downstairs with Quinn trailing after her, arms flailing as she rants.)

Quinn: Daria, you don't understand! When you were in that school play thing, you had to wear makeup and look attractive, right?

Daria: If by "attractive", you mean something the audience could immediately dismiss to get on to the actual acting ... correct.

Quinn: Look, even you have to admit that they made you look better and everything. So can't you see that you should have to look good normally?

Daria: "Normally"? I never thought I'd hear you admit that there are special occasions where fashion can take a firm backseat.

Quinn: EWW! Don't you know me at all, Daria?

Daria: Unfortunately, yes. But on the plus side, knowing your opponent is an advantage in any battle of wits, even when your opponent is practically unarmed.

Quinn: (probably didn't understand it; moving on) Anyway, It's not like that freaky Lynn girl. I mean come ON! Who would want to dress like a depressed psycho freak all the time?

Daria: (frowning; raising her arms slightly to emphasise her own outfit) Excuse me...

Quinn: I mean, she goes around being rude to people and fine, maybe she did help me get some money for some new clothes and I guess she did make sure you got some kind of boyfriend by talking to that ... that thing you were seeing... (Daria frowns again and begins to clench her fists. She is, quite obviously, approaching that state known as Grand High Piss-Off.) But I mean, seriously, I don't know why you hang out with her; she's a psycho!

Daria: Maybe because, unlike some of my blood relatives, she doesn't railroad over everything I have to say.

Quinn: Well, if you even listened to me ever, you'd have a lot more friends. Instead of that freaky art girl and that psycho other sister and that ... that thing.

(Daria's fists clench that little bit tighter and two windows behind Quinn shatter. Daria blinks, unclenches her fists and steps back in the same movement, looking startled and completely confused.)

Jake: (Offscreen) Damnit! We just replaced those windows a month ago!

Quinn: Don't blame me, Daddy! (little smirk at Daria) I bet Daria and that little freak girl who looks like her rigged them to, like, explode or something.

Helen: (OS) DARIA! You get in here right now, young lady!

(Daria shoots a shocked look at Quinn, who smirks like a snake and walks off. End flashback and return to Pizza King, where Jane and AP are staring at Daria in bewilderment. Lynn, however, is looking at the table; she looks a little guilty.)

Jane: What's with her?

AP: I'm thinking either trouble in paradise or she's on the... (cuts his eyes to Lynn) Uh ... y'know. Girlie stuff.

Daria: Actually, things with Ted are fine. That's kind of the problem. He's basically decided to focus his attentions on his biological daughter and Quinn's resenting it. Not that she isn't using it to her advantage when she can, but he's starting to put real pressure on her about Ted. To be honest, even without today's surprise attack, I'll be glad to get out of the house for awhile.

Lynn: (avoiding Daria's eyes) Right. You can stay at mine, no problem. (beat; businesslike) For now, I wanted to fill you all in on what's going on for the British summer.

Jane: Great idea, seeing as all we know is the date we're flying out...

Daria: Yeah; we don't even know how long we're staying yet.

Lynn: That's not something you need to worry about.

Daria: Dad's starting to get ... persistent. He might not let me go, the way things are going.

Lynn: Well, let him try. But given some of the history here, I doubt he'll go that far. Or think he has the right to.

(Daria's turn to look away.)

AP: So what's the plan?

Lynn: We need to stop at Lorna's for a couple of days first, but then we're all going to Ottery St Catchpole.

AP: What?

Daria/Jane: (unison) Where?

AP: Ottery St Catchpole. That's where my uncle Arthur lives.

Daria: Since when do you have an uncle Arthur?

AP: Since forever, seems like, but Mom only told me this afternoon. Why are we going there?

Lynn: I told you Lorna mentioned the Weasley family. We're going to be paying them a visit for a fair bit of the summer. Hope no one minds.

AP: Butbutbutbutbut...

Jane: Motorbut.

Lynn: I should warn you: just in case, pack anything you couldn't live without for a long while. I don't know how long we're staying any more than you do.

(Daria, Jane and AP facefault at her. Lynn looks back with equanimity.)

Daria: Okay. And we leave in two days?

Lynn: First class all the way. (beat) Pizza?

Jane: You're buying.

(Lynn shrugs with a Mona Lisa smile.)


(Scene: Heathrow airport. Lorna waiting -- she's in eveningwear, her hair's a little tousled and her makeup is ever so slightly smudged. AP struggling with a luggage cart behind a sick-looking Daria, an excited Jane and an outwardly calm Lynn, who raises an eyebrow at Lorna's appearance.)

Lynn: You didn't even have time to go home?

Lorna: Oh, I could have, probably, but it's the proliferation of sensitive new-age men. They just don't feel right unless they get to serve the lady tea in the morning.

Daria: Tea sounds really, really good right about now.

Jane: Could you maybe just drop me off at Tate Modern? I hear there's a Hirst exhibit...

Lorna: Sorry, but you'll have to get there yourself. By the time we get back, I'll have just enough time to shower and make myself presentable before I meet my appointment and then I have stop by the bank -- those irritating little goblins are giving me gyp about my business account.

(She snatches the luggage cart from AP and stalks off. Daria looks at Lynn a little oddly.)

Daria: Irritating little ... goblins?

Lynn: (sounding tired) Don't the British have the most interesting expressions?

(With that, she stalks off after Lorna. Jane *poing*s off after her, visions of bisected cows in tanks of formaldehyde dancing in her head. AP, equally oblivious, follows them and Daria, after shaking off the seriousness with which Lorna mentioned goblins, does the same.)


(Scene: Smythe living room. Daria steps out of a room and into the hallway, noticing Lynn and Lorna seated in the living room, having a quiet conversation. Daria, frowning, inches closer.)

Lorna: I take it you still haven't told them?

Lynn: And it's the easiest thing in the world to break to people? Think what we're related to.

Lorna: Dear girl. Even the most oblivious get the news with that silly yellow letter, or at least one just like it, when they turn eleven. You weren't granted the same dubious courtesy, or even an owl from your father, but they should at least know. It's not as though they're Mug...

(And Jane slams out the same door, nearly knocking into Daria.)

Jane: Whoops.

(Daria turns to the living room. The conversation has officially broken up. Daria slams a fist onto the floor, at which Jane raises an eyebrow.)


(Scene: the Intrepid Fox, Soho -- a pub. Its main features are a] scarred wood furniture b] rock band posters covering every square inch of wall c] leftover Hallowe'en decorations and d] statuary made out of old auto parts -- a spider hovering over the bar and a crucifixion scene in the corner. It's next to this latter that Daria, Jane and AP are sitting.)

AP: "Mugs"?

Daria: Well, that's how they've been treating us. And I can't think of any other way of finishing the word.

AP: Muggee, muggyver, muggruff?

Jane: Don't make it painful. (to the stares) Big men in dog suits and trenchcoats... (she shivers)

Daria: (let's move on from this) Anyway. It's the comment about the owl that confused me ... unless the Smythe family business is a bird sanctuary.

Jane: Who knows? Maybe it's a family expression.

Daria: (raised eyebrow) You mean like "goblins" at the bank?

AP: Well, what else is it gonna be? I mean, it's not like there are gonna be real goblins or real owls, right?

Daria: I guess you're right. But this is one strange thing too many.

Lynn: (approaching with drinks) This is London. There are no limits to the strange things that go on around here.

AP: We weren't talking about that; we were talking about...

Jane: (interrupting but not changing the subject, exactly) Hey, how long a drive is it to Ottery St Catchpole?

Lynn: A few hours; why?

Daria: Good. That gives you a captive audience while you tell us what's been going on with you lately.

Lynn: Well, you'll be a captive audience, all right, but I somehow doubt that's what you'll be listening to from me. (to the quizzical look) Remember what I had to say the last time I drove in this country?

(Off Daria's "Oh, Christ, I wish I didn't" look, smash cut to...)


(Scene: the open road. Lorna's yellow van roars past at a speed that far exceeds the posted speed limit.)


(Scene: Van interior. Lynn driving. Daria shotgun. Jane and AP in the back with the luggage. The three passengers are looking a little pale; Lynn's slightly flushed but calming faster than the others are.)

Lynn: Feeling better?

Daria: What is it with you and British roads? You're fine in Lawndale...

Lynn: Ever seen me at Seven Corners?

Daria: No...

AP: And you don't wanna, believe me. The swearing's a little better but it's more with the near-death. She once came close to rear-ending some goofball of a guy in a red jeep.

Daria & Jane: Kevin.

Lynn: Well, he deserved it. He just plain stopped...

Jane: STOP THE CAR!


(Scene: open fields. Van stops and Jane leaps out the back. Daria, Lynn and AP follow, bewildered. Jane has dragged out with some pastels and a sketchpad.)

Daria: Muse attack. I should've known.

Jane: I never see fields like this back home! We're almost there; it's not like we're going to be late!

(She steps into the field and approaches some hedges, looking around. She turns to the others.)

Jane: This is a perfect spot; I swear, it'll take five minutes ... well, maybe fifteen. I want to sketch that weird-looking house over...

(She starts pointing to a really eclectic-looking house and is hit full in the face by something small, brown and screaming. Jane starts screaming herself as the others step back -- even Lynn is nonplussed.)

Gnome: Gerroff me! Gerroff me!

Jane: You gerroff me! I mean get off me!

(As Jane manages to grab a hold of the gnome and fling it off behind her, a red-haired boy looks over the hedges and facefaults.)

Boy: Oh, bugger ... uh ... (the boy raises a wand and points it at Jane.)

Jane: What the...

Lynn: (panic; she knows what he's about to do) Oh, for the love of God, Weasely, don't...

Boy: Obliviate!

(Jane's face suddenly takes on a blank look.)

Lynn: (resigned) ...use a Memory Charm...

Daria: (running over to Jane, concerned) Jane? JANE?

Jane: I'm standing in a field. (beat) Why am I standing in a field?

Lynn: (to the boy) Which one are you?

Boy: George. Who're you?

Lynn: Lynn Cullen ... Smythe. One of your visitors. She's a witch, you ... pillock!

George: You what?

Daria: Lynn? What medication did you not take?

(Fred and Ron run over to join George at the hedges.)

Ron: Oh, George, you know we're not supposed to do magic outside school! You'll have us in it up to our necks! And what are you doing carrying your wand around anyway?

Fred: After that business at the World Cup, Ron? Are you mental?

George: And you think the Ministry wants Muggles running around telling people about being hit by garden gnomes? And I don't mean those miniature Father Christmases.

Lynn: She's Muggle-born, yes, but she's not a Muggle, you ... you daft prat!

Daria: What's a Muggle? What are you talking about? (beat) And I take it you're the Weasleys?

AP: You're my cousins? (beat; looking at the three freckle-faced redheads) I guess I can see that, yeah.

Lynn: (to Daria, Jane and AP) Okay, I'll give you the basics. We're witches. Well, apart from you, AP; you're a wizard. And this ... this pillock just wiped Jane's memory.

George: I wasn't to know, was I? I mean, you all look ... well, so much like Muggles!

AP: What in the name of whatever is a Muggle? I'm not that bad with words...

Jane: (still dazed) I didn't get drunk again, did I? I said I was never going to drink again...

Lynn: Can we explain this inside? I think Jane needs caffeine ... or a Wit-Sharpening potion ... or something.

Fred: Yeah ... that'd be right. Come on, you lot.

George: Yeah, c'mon; I think we all have some explaining to do.


(Scene: The Burrow. Fred and Ron enter the house, followed by Daria and Lynn, who are supporting a dazed-looking Jane. George and AP follow them. Molly looks up from her cooking with a smile.)

Molly: Oh, you're here! I'm ever so glad to meet you finally, Andrew dear...

AP: Uh ... I like AP. It's a nickname.

Molly: Oh. Sorry. Uh ... is something the matter with your friend?

Fred: We thought she was a Muggle!

George: We didn't know we were having visitors!

Fred: Even she didn't know she was a witch; how were we supposed to?

George: We were degnoming and she got one of Ron's in the face.

Fred: We needed to practice 'Obliviate' anyway, so if the Restriction of Underage Magic people come calling...

Molly: But ... she didn't know?

Lynn: (guilt personified) None of them did. Except for me.

Daria: Wait. ALL of us? You're telling us we're a wizard and three witches?

Lynn: I said, didn't I?

Daria: I was a little more worried about Jane than you saying weird stuff about 'Muggles', Lynn.

Jane: But there's no such thing as witches, Daria. You and Lynn proved that ... right?

Daria: Case. Rested.

Molly: Oh dear. Perhaps I should let Arthur explain this to you. I'll just contact him by Floo; I'm sure the Ministry won't mind if this is an emergency...

(Molly bustles distractedly out of the room, leaving Ron, Fred and George staring at the new arrivals.)

Ron: So you're our cousin?

AP: Yeah. Dad's an accountant for a firm somewhere in the US.

Fred: He must be the one we don't talk about!

George: No, that's a second cousin.

AP: No, Mom's your dad's sister.

Ron: What, the one that never sends owls to Dad anymore?

AP: 'Owls'? The only owl I've ever seen really close is the stuffed one in Dad's office.

(Ron, Fred and George look at each other.)

George: It ... wasn't a barn owl, was it?

Fred: About a six-foot wingspan?

George: Little white spot on its forehead?

AP: Yeah...

Fred: The git killed Raine!

George: Last time we saw that owl was after Dad sent her out to Aunt Carol. He'd invited her to visit. We were really little and no one got why Dad never got word back.

Fred: Dad thought she'd died or something. (beat) Your father's a pillock, you know that?

Daria: I'm not sure exactly what a "pillock" is, but I can only assume that it's too soft a term for what Fred McIntyre is.

Fred: He's called what? (beat) I never used to hate my name, but with that pillock using it...

AP: (looking really guilty) Uhh...

George: Well, we can always just call you Gred.

Fred: Shut it, Forge.

Ron: (let's change the subject) And you're Lynn and Daria Smythe?

Daria: Morgendorffer.

Lynn: Yes.

Fred: Dad mentions your dad sometimes. You don't hear much about Aurors in Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, but the Order of the Phoenix is historical and that!

Daria: Order of the... No. I at least know all those words. Aurors?

Ron: Dark wizard-hunters. Since You-Know-Who has been on the rise again...

Daria: I don't know who...

Lynn: Lord Voldemort. (Ron, Fred and George flinch) The most powerful Dark wizard in a thousand years. He's back and his main ambition is to kill Harry Potter -- 'The Boy Who Lived'. (to Daria's lost look) It's in all the history books, but Dad told me most of this awhile ago.

Ron: And if he kills Harry, he'll go on to take over the wizarding world!

Jane: I don't get this. You're telling me that there are witches and wizards all over the place and one of them is set to take over the world. And I'm supposed to believe this? It all sounds like something out of a book.

Fred: We'd show you, but...

George: We're not supposed to use magic outside of school.

Lynn: You used a Memory Charm on Jane and the Ministry has yet to beat a path to your door. Trust me; it'll be fine. Or, if you're that worried...

(Lynn grabs George's wand, which he never let go of, and waves it at a milk jug on the table.)

Lynn: Wingardium Leviosa!

(The milk jug rises into the air, somewhat shakily. Daria, AP and Jane just stare.)

Ron: Wicked! I had the worst time with that one to start with.

AP: Uh ... do I wanna know how you did that? (beat) Oh, hell, what am I saying, of COURSE I wanna know how you did that!

Lynn: You'll learn. You can do this too, if you put your mind to it.

Jane: Whoa. Cool!

Lynn: Ladies and gentleman. Welcome to the wizarding world.

(Enter a tired-looking Arthur Weasley with Molly.)

Arthur: Hallo... (spots AP) Um...

AP: Hey ho, Uncle Arthur!

Arthur: ...Uncle...? You must be ... Carol's boy. Andrew, isn't it?

AP: AP, actually. But yeah, that'd be me. And that's my ... um ... friend Lynn, her sister Daria, and Jane.

Daria: Hey.

Jane: Yo!

Lynn: Nice meeting you, sir. Dad talks about you.

Fred: She's Jerome Smythe's daughter.

Arthur: Oh my. I suppose we have some things to talk about. Molly?

Molly: Uh ... why don't you go through to the sitting room and I'll make tea. Ginny?

Ginny: Oh, but Mum...

Molly: But me no buts, young lady.

(Molly keeps a hand on Ginny's shoulder as the entire gang move out of the kitchen.)


(Scene: Weasely sitting room. Daria, Jane, Lynn AP have crammed themselves onto the sofa. Arthur is seated tiredly in an armchair. Ron, Fred and George have taken seats on the floor.)

Arthur: So how much has been explained to you all?

Jane: Well, most of us don't know anything. Hell, I'd be happy enough to know how I got here.

Arthur: Well ... it appears you're a Muggle-born. It's a little surprising, I grant you, that you all got together, but I suppose like calls to like.

Daria: And ... the Order of the Phoenix?

Lynn: It's a group of Aurors -- the dark wizard hunters mentioned earlier. They were set up by my grandfather Gerald some years back. They called him the Phoenix because of ... well, you won't know about Animagi yet, but let's just say he could turn into one. The Smythes were the founders of that group of Aurors and we've been involved with them ever since.

AP: (grinning) It's like the Force, isn't it? (to the looks) Well, it is! Magic runs strong in your family.

Arthur: So it would appear.

Daria: Let me get this straight. You're a witch. And yet you need guns to defend yourself?

Fred: "Guns"?

Ron: Metal wands Muggles use to kill each other. Remember, from the Prophet report on Sirius Black?

Lynn: (sigh) I'm a witch with no wand, little training and against a Muggle under the Imperius curse?

AP: The who?

Arthur: Well, you see, there are three Unforgivable Curses. Imperio puts you under the control of the person who casts it on you.

Jane: We're lucky Ms. Li couldn't use that one.

Lynn: Why do you think Li did what she did in the first place?

(They all facefault.)

AP: She ... she ... who ... muuuuuh...

Arthur: It would have been a Death Eater that did that to your headmistress.

Jane: Death. It's what's for dinner?

Lynn: Servants of Voldemort.

(Weasleys wince.)

Fred: Say 'You-Know-Who', will you?

Lynn: Why? It's just a name.

AP: (grin) "That which we call a rose"...

Daria: That's not your line, AP.

Lynn: Can we stay on the subject, please?

Daria: So. Three Unforgivable Curses. What are the other two like?

Arthur: One -- Crucio -- is pain. The other...

Lynn: Avada Kedavra. Instant death.

Jane: The wizarding equivalent of a nuke?

Lynn: No, more specific. And a lot harder to arm. There's no fighting that one ... but the Order started by teaching me how to defend myself against Muggles under the Imperius curse. So that the Jackboot Affair didn't happen again.

Jane: Whoa.

Arthur: And now I suppose it's time for all of you to learn how to use the powers you have.

Lynn: I have a question. Why Hogwarts? Why not one of the American schools?

Arthur: Ah. Well. Uh. Mostly because most of you have family here.

Jane: Maybe all of us. Dad was talking about doing Welsh landscapes again...

Lynn: Jane, you don't think your dad...

Jane: Well, he's new age enough... (looks around the place) But that doesn't seem to be a criteria.

Arthur: And because ... well ... we can help you catch up a bit. So you can join Ron's year at least.

Fred: You will explain who this ... Ms Li, you said?

Lynn: Sure. If you're not afraid of total mayhem.

Ron: Afraid of? They thrive on it!

AP: Wizard mischief-makers! Kick!

George: We recently got ... some funding ... for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Arthur: Oh, George...

Fred: Ton-Tongue Toffees...

(The twins share a snicker with Ron over what they did to Dudley...)

George: Canary Creams...

Ron: (aside to the erstwhile Muggles) You really have to have a care what you eat here.

(Lynn gives an evil smirk)

AP: I want in too!

Jane: God help the wizarding world...

Daria: Bit late for that, it seems.

Arthur: Oh dear... Just ... don't let your mother know...

Lynn: I have a book these guys have to read.

George: Can you work around 'Accio'?

AP: Hell, she can work around FBI.

(Blank looks from the Weasleys.)

Lynn: Never mind. I think we all need some down time. Can we start the lessoning tomorrow?

Ron: Sure! But ... are you sure the Restriction of Underage...?

Arthur: Oh, that's all sorted out already.

Fred: Wow, Dad! How'd you manage that?

(Enter Molly, a little too well-timed...)

Molly: I made the tea! Oh, do leave them to rest a little, Arthur! They've come a long way today.

(Arthur shoots a grateful look at Molly; everyone looks suspicious.)


(Scene: Ginny's room. Ginny's fast asleep in her own bed; Daria, Jane and Lynn are in sleeping bags on the floor [there's not enough space in Ginny's room for three camp beds]. They're still awake, staring at the ceiling and talking softly.)

Daria: So why haven't we done anything ... I don't know ... magical ... before?

Lynn: What I got told was that we sometimes have. When we were scared, hurt or angry...

(They muse over this point for a moment.)

Daria: So when that stupid cabin in the woods nearly collapsed and killed us both...

Lynn: Probably us.

Daria: Well, if this whole wizarding world thing doesn't work out, I could make a fortune in the demolition business. (beat) And you with your "I have a feeling that something incredibly stupid's going to happen" over that dance...

Lynn: Oh, please. We were living in Lawndale. That wasn't a prediction; that was a sure thing.

Daria: Jane? How about you? Ever do anything...

Jane: Who knows? It's not like I had parents around keeping tabs on me when I was growing up. I could have levitated the house into the ionosphere and the only reaction I'd have got was Trent rasping "Hey, man, what a cool dream" and going back to sleep.

Lynn: (shrug) Well, whichever way you look at it, whether we did weird things as kids or not...

Daria: Oh, I think it's safe to say that we all did weird things as kids. It's whether they could be considered 'magical' that's at issue here.

Lynn: ...The point is, we're here now. And this is what we have to work with. (*sigh*) I am beyond jetlagged -- it's been a day. Night, you two.

(She rolls over and falls asleep as Daria and Jane continue to stare at the ceiling, pondering.)

Jane: What're you thinking now?

(pause)

Daria: As much as I hate to say it ... this is probably going to be cool. (beat) You?

Jane: This is going to be damn cool. (beat) Except for the whole Death Eater thing.

Daria: And to think you were once so set on finding the silver lining.

Jane: (smirk) 'Night, witch.

Daria: Good e'en, oh foul and secret midnight hag.

(Jane chuckles and they both close their eyes.)


(Scene: Ron's room. AP's asleep in a camp bed next to Ron's empty bed. All of a sudden, there's a crashclatter and several small explosions. AP jumps upright.)

AP: AAAAAAAAAGH! WhadIleave? WhadIleave? Wh...uh?

(He scrubs a hand through his hair as the door opens and Ron sticks his head in.)

Ron: Alright then?

AP: What the hell?

Ron: The clattering's the ghoul in the attic. He thinks it gets boring first thing in the morning.

AP: And the...

(Something goes *BOOM* and there's a sound of falling roof tiles.)

Molly: (OS) FRED! GEORGE! ENOUGH!

AP: (wide-eyed) They make stuff blow up?

Ron: Oh, nothing to worry about, but sometimes...

AP: (big grin) Great! (bounds out of bed) Hey Fred! George! Whatcha using?

(AP scrambles out of the room. Ron looks very confused.)


(Scene: Weasley kitchen. Molly's dishing out porridge into bowls. Percy is looking over the Prophet.)

Molly: Well, what do you want to go looking at flats for? Percy, this is your home!

Percy: Mother, this place is bursting at the seams. And with everything that's going on at the Ministry ... trying to get to grips with Mr Crouch's replacement ... I need my own space! Bill and Charlie have their own private residences...

Molly: Oh, Percy dear, please don't think that we want you out because you think it's inconvenient...

Percy: But Mother, I don't want to stay just because my leaving would be inconvenient. I know the gold coming in makes things easier...

Molly: Oh, Percy, don't be ridiculous; we'll manage, same as we always have. If moving is really going to make you happy...

(*BANG!* *fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee* *POP-POP-POP* *BOOOOOM!* and the flat *thwack* of a door blown off its hinges hitting the floor. Then, after a shocked silence, there is laughter.)

George: (OS) That was incredible, AP!

Fred: (OS) Yeah, Snape won't know what hit him!

Molly: RON! FRED! GEORGE! DOWNSTAIRS NOW! (beat; kindly) And you too, AP dear!

(Enter Ginny, who pulls up a chair and starts pouring treacle into her porridge.)

Ginny: Lynn's up there with the boys. They blew the door right off. And they wouldn't let me in.

Molly: (puffing up) Just as we-- What on earth would you want to go in there for?

Ginny: To see what's going on!

(Daria and Jane clump in. Molly goes from stunned to beaming in 0.2 seconds.)

Molly: Good morning, dears; breakfast's on the table.

(She bustles off to the whistle of a tea kettle. Daria and Jane sit down and the clump-clump-clump of several sets of feet come down the stairs. Ron, Fred, George and AP descend upon the table like a plague of oversized locusts; Lynn follows behind at a more sedate pace.)

Ginny: So what were you doing up there?

Molly: Ginny!

Fred: Don't worry, Mum; we weren't going to tell her!

George: Sorry, little sister, but Mum'd kill us.

Fred: Anyway, we want to keep the baby of the family safe!

Ginny: I'm not a baby, Fred; I'm fifteen!

George: And we want to make sure you reach sixteen.

Daria: Jane, you have the biggest family of all of us. Are they always like this?

Jane: How should I know? Most of mine scattered to the four winds before I really knew what they were like.

Molly: Oh, how dreadful! (with a pointed look at Percy) It must be horrible to live away from the ones you love, without a real family around...

Jane: Actually, it's more horrible with a real family around. The phone's never free, the place is packed with people talking and yelling and hitting each other with foam rubber bats, never a room to call your own...

Percy: That's exactly my point, Mother!

Molly: (scowling) Well, we're different!

Percy: Yes. Here there are explosions.

Daria: Speaking of family ... how are we supposed to explain all of this to our parents?

Jane: Daria, my only question is how I'm supposed to find my parents.

Daria: You have it easy. And Lynn and AP's parents presumably know all about this. I just can't see Mom and Dad being very accepting of British schools or having a witch for a daughter.

Molly: Oh, don't worry, dear. Your parents will receive an owl from Hogwarts explaining everything.

Ron: Most Muggle parents get used to it quick enough. Hermione Granger's parents did.

Daria: And if my parents decide not to take the word of an ... owl?

Molly: Well ... I ... suppose I don't know, exactly. Not that it's the owl itself they'll have to believe, but the letter the owl's carrying...

(Speaking of owls, a massive one flies through the window and drops a letter at Lynn's place, circling the table and flying off again without once touching solid ground. Lynn frowns and tears the letter open, and her eyes widen.)

Daria: Lynn?

Lynn: It's from Dad.

Molly: Not bad news, I hope...

Lynn: Not for us, anyway. But I'm not sure it's so good for Jake and Helen... Or for Fred and Carol, for that matter.

(Daria frowns at Lynn; Lynn just hands over the letter. AP gets up and reads over her shoulder. Both of them look at Lynn with wide eyes.)

Fred & George: (avid unison) What?


(Scene: Morgendorffer kitchen. Jake, as per usual, behind a paper. Helen working on papers. Quinn quietly eating behind a fashion magazine. Helen looks up with an expression that reads "I just thought of something...")

Helen: Jake ... did Daria say anything to you about when she'd be coming back from that place in England ... Ottery St somewhere? I mean, after that silly thing with the owl...

Jake: (still behind the paper) Damn flying vermin...

Helen: (getting frustrated) You're thinking of pigeons, Jake, and... Oh, will you put that paper down?

Jake: I'm trying to remember, Helen! Please! (doorbell rings) Who could that be?

Quinn: (getting up) I'll get it!


(Scene: Morgendorffer front hall. Quinn opens the door and sees Jerome standing there. His hands are in his pockets and he looks a little sheepish ... but he relaxes slightly when he sees Quinn.)

Jerome: Good day; I'm Jerome... And you must be Quinn. You've been blessed with your mother's looks.

Quinn: What do you want? And who are you, anyway? I mean, like, it's weird enough at home right now with Daria's stupid joke with the owl and everything...

Jerome: (back to sheepish) Ah, I take it the Hogwarts letter arrived.

Quinn: You're not telling me that's for real! I mean, God, I stopped believing in that magic stuff when the love spells in "Waif" didn't work!

Jerome: It might be wise for you to re-evaluate that opinion, m'lady.

Quinn: Oh, I'm through talking to you... MUH-OM! THERE'S THIS FREAK OF A GUY NAMED JEROME OUT HERE AND HE HELPED WITH THAT STUPID OWL JOKE!

Helen: (OS) WHAT?

(She and Jake both appear at the door behind Quinn a few seconds later, and they both freeze when they spot Jerome.)

Jake: Who are you?

Helen: J-J-Jerome? What are you doing here?

Jake: This is Jerome?

Jerome: I'm here to speak to you about Daria. And her new school.

Jake: What the hell's wrong with the school she's in now?

Jerome: (slight sneer) It's American, isn't it? That speaks for itself.

Quinn: Waitaminit. You mean Daria's going away to boarding school? This is great! I can finally get that walk-in closet now!

Helen: Quinn, we are not turning Daria's room into closet space. (turning to Jerome) Now explain to me exactly what Daria's supposed to be learning at this Hogwarts place that she couldn't learn right here?

Jerome: In a word ... magic.

(long pause)

Quinn: I so want to not have to believe you.

Jake: You don't have to believe him! I mean, what proof do we have that this man isn't some ... some sort of bird-loving lunatic?

Helen: Now, Jake, maybe we should...

Jake: We should just call the police and make him give my kiddo back! Damnit, Helen, who knows what kind of crap he's filling Daria's head with? (He grabs Jerome; Jerome shoves him back) Look, you bastard! I want my kiddo back, and if I have to beat where she is out of you...

Jerome: (sigh; whips out his wand) Petrificus Totalus!

(Jake freezes up and falls flat on his face. Quinn and Helen scream. Jerome kicks Jake onto his back and looks down at him.)

Helen: Jer--ohmygod! Jake! What did you do to him?

Jerome: Perhaps now we can have a civilised conversation like two mature adults. (beat) Oh, don't fret; I'll unfreeze your husband when we're through, no harm done. And I had to do something to prove that magic exists, didn't I? How else would you believe that your daughter's capable of similar acts?

Helen: You mean my daughter is a ... a...

Quinn: I always knew she was a freak, but this...? (beat) Does that mean I'm one too?

Jerome: Hardly. Apparently, this particular trait appears on my side of the family.

Quinn: Oh. (something really nasty hits) That Lynn girl too?

Jerome: Most assuredly.

Quinn: We're all gonna die, aren't we?

Helen: Quinn!

Quinn: No ... no, you don't understand. The only person I can think of who it'd be worse if they had magic would be that ... thing Daria was seeing once. That AP freak.

Jerome: AP McIntyre, you mean? (nasty little Mona Lisa smirk) He's attending Hogwarts this year as well.

(Quinn whimpers and flees for her room. Helen, meanwhile, has finally managed to shake the shock.)

Helen: All right ... if Daria needs a ... a special school... Whereis this place, anyway?

Jerome: The town is called Hogsmeade, Helen. It's on the England/Scotland border. She'll have the best education England can provide from a magical perspective.

Helen: And what about her real education, Jerome, did you think of that? What about college?

Jerome: M'dear, I attended Hogwarts for the full seven years, and I was admitted to Harvard. Daria will be more than qualified to attend any university that takes her fancy. What she lacks of Muggle teaching, she can make up herself; from all I hear, she's an autodidactic little thing.

Helen: (grudging) Well, she takes after you that way.

Jerome: She'll likely send an owl for you in a few days. Be easy in your mind, Helen.

(He smiles slightly at her, then turns to leave.)

Helen: (slight panic) Jerome! (he turns back) What about Jake?

(Jerome blinks, then smirks apologetically.)

Jerome: (pointing his wand at Jake's chest) Enervate.

(Jake sits up screaming. Helen flinches backwards until Jake gets hold of himself, then helps him up. By the time she's dragged Jake to his feet, Jerome is gone -- likely Disapparated. Jake looks at Helen, his face confused and angry.)

Jake: (through clenched teeth) Explain. This. NOW.

(Helen sighs and leads him into the house.)


(Scene: McIntyre household. Jerome Apparates on the front doorstep and rings the doorbell. Ten seconds pass, and the door is opened by Carol.)

Carol: (slow as always) Oh ... hello. (beat) May I help you?

(Jerome blinks loudly and proceeds to watch her very carefully.)

Jerome: Good afternoon, Carol. I'm Jerome Smythe -- perhaps you remember me? (after a moment of Carol's blank stare, he sighs and gives up) I'm here to speak to you about your son.

Carol: (after a short pause) Oh. Andrew. Yes. (beat) I hope he's not in trouble at school again.

Jerome: Carol ... it's July. (slightly sotto) For two Sickles, I'd have you in St Mungo's right now.

Carol: (even more blank than usual) Where?

Jerome: (slight sigh) Never mind. Is Frederick at home?

Carol: One moment, please. (calls into the house) Dear? Someone wants to speak to you about Andrew's school.

(Enter Fred, who takes one look at Jerome and unceremoniously steers Carol back into the house.)

Fred: I thought this state was rid of you, you preppie British freak.

Jerome: Pleasant as always, Frederick.

Fred: It's July; what are you talking about Andrew's school for?

Jerome: I was referring to his new school, Frederick. Or haven't you received the owl?

Fred: I shoot owls around this house on sight.

Jerome: (scowl) This one was property of Hogwarts, Frederick. That'll cost someone a tidy few Galleons.

(Fred goes white, then brick red)

Fred: You mean that ... that ... freak haven my wife came out of? Hell, I knew your little bookish freak would wind up somewhere like that, but we...

(Jerome visibly restrains himself from reaching for his wand -- the Ministry's going to have enough problems with what he did to Jake.)

Jerome: What you will have to do is accept the fact that your son has been accepted to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.

Fred: If I'd have known my son was one of ... of those, I'd have...

Jerome: (accusatory) You'd have done what, Frederick? Beat the tendency out of him? You'd have found yourself firmly attached to the ceiling if you'd so much as tried. (very slight smirk) Or perhaps you'd be inflated ... though some'd say that it would just be an addition to the hot air you're already full of.

(Silence as they face each other down.)

Fred: (backing down) What're you doing being that freak school's errand-boy, anyway? That ... that world didn't want you for anything but donkey-work?

Jerome: We happen to believe that your son is destined for great things, and wouldn't entrust this sort of thing to anyone but the best. (now he does pull his wand) Would you like to test me?

Fred: (caving completely) There's a letter from that ... that damned place, I suppose?

(Jerome tosses the letter at Fred in a manner that suggests he'd much prefer embedding it somewhere between a couple of his ribs.)

Jerome: Always a pleasure, Frederick.

(With that, he Disapparates. Fred looks at the letter ruefully and walks inside with it, slamming the door behind him hard enough to make the glass set into it rattle.)


(Scene: Ginny's room. Lynn, Daria and Jane are lounging on their sleeping bags, each with their nose in a book -- Jane's got "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2", Daria's got "Intermediate Transfiguration" and Lynn's mid-way through "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them". Lynn's boom box sits on the floor between them, blaring loudness. Enter Fred, George, Ron and Ginny; they look mystified.)

Fred: Oi, you three! You're going to burn your eyes out.

Ron: You don't think they got one of those books you just can't stop reading, do you?

George: Nah; we'd've got it all before they did. (walks up and grabs the book from Jane) Now, take a break, you lot!

Daria: (not looking up) We've got a lot to get through before we get to Hogwarts. You didn't expect us to take it easy, did you?

Ginny: (pointing at the stereo) What is that, anyway?

Lynn: (also not looking up) Boom box.

Ginny: What, you mean like that thing Fred and George built for my fifth birthday?

(Now they do look up, levelling raised eyebrows at Fred and George.)

Daria: I seriously doubt it. Unless AP rigged the wiring again.

Jane: It plays prerecorded music.

Ron: That's music? Weird!

George: C'mon. Time you got some practical work in.

(The looks are now quite interested.)


(Scene: Weasley garden. Fred and George exit the back door with Daria, Jane, Lynn and a soot-covered AP in tow. They stare around the garden; Fred and George look around carefully.)

Jane: We're going to learn Herbology?

Fred: Not really, no.

(He plunges his hands into a bush, which shakes viciously; from the bush, he produces a gnome.)

George: We never got to finish degnoming, so we'll use this to teach you pest control.

Ron: (from doorway) How're you going to teach them magic this way? You know we're not supposed to use...

Fred: Special dispensation, remember?

George: Ickle Ronniekins never used to miss a trick when it came to rule-breaking...

Fred: (holding up his gnome) Now who wants to show us how well they learned a Banishing charm?

(Jane raises an eyebrow with a smirk. George hands her his wand and she aims it at the gnome.)

Jane: Say bye-bye, Mister Potato-Head...


(Scene: field next to the Burrow. It seems so quiet ... until the Dopplering scream of a garden gnome travelling at high velocity fills the air. The gnome flies into shot and becomes buried face-down in a large pile of sheep muck. Applause is heard from out of shot.)

Fred: (OS) Wow, Jane, that even beats Harry's record!


(Scene: Fred and George's room. It's like a wizard's version of AP's room -- there are ... well, best just to call them things ... scattered everywhere. A bunk bed as rickety as the house is flush up against the wall; neither bed is made. The wardrobe doors and dresser drawers are open to various degrees, with robes and what could be describes as Muggle clothes sticking out. Fred and George usher Daria in, and Daria stares around her.)

Daria: And I thought the Techno-Weasel den was bad.

Fred: (who doesn't get it) The what?

George: (who doesn't have to) The Techno-Weasel Weasley! I like that!

Daria: And you've brought me in here just to show off the extent of your housekeeping skills?

Fred: We thought that this would be the best place to give you some practice on Summoning charms.

Daria: Well, there's certainly no shortage of targets...

George: Just point at something and say "Accio". Like this. (points at the pillow on one of the beds) Accio!

(The pillow shoots off the bed and George catches it. Fred hands his wand to Daria and looks at her expectantly. Daria looks around, looking a little nervous. Eventually she points to the desk vaguely.)

Daria: Accio!

(Something green, gelatinous and nasty-looking flies off the desk; she sees it coming and lets it go right past her. It hits Fred in the face with a *squelch* and sticks there. George gapes at her and she lifts a hand in a vague and overly belated attempt to stop the gooey thing as in the canon opening credits. Fred, meanwhile, is struggling to get the thing off his face.)


(Scene: Weasley paddock. The gang is standing with Fred, George, Ron and Ginny. Percy is standing off at a distance, obviously as a chaperone.)

Percy: I still think we should wait for Mother and Fa...

Fred: Oh, shut it!

George: It's alright, Percy; Mum said that she'd be no good at these kinds of charms. And Dad's at work.

Fred: So they put us in charge.

Ron: C'mon, Percy; just let us get on with it.

Fred: Right; you'll each need a partner...

George: We'll start. Daria, you partner Fred. I'll take Lynn.

Fred: After we've gone, Ron'll take Jane and Ginny'll face off against our dear cousin.

Ron: You're joking! She's far closer to your style than, say, Daria; she'll massacre me!

George: She'll go easy on you.

Jane: (suspicious) Why are you so set on doing it this way, anyway?

Fred: Symmetry.

Lynn: (raised eyebrow) Symmetry.

Ginny: Well, I suppose ... it would be interesting to look at...

AP: It would be damn scary to look at! Why'd you wanna freak us out that way?

Daria: Because it's not us he wants to freak out.

(They all turn around to look at Percy, who squirms under the blossoming smirks. Then Ron and Ginny hand their wands to Lynn and Daria respectively and the two sets of look-alikes face off. Cutting to Percy, we see that the sight two identical duelling pairs have had the desired effect on him. Whether it's because of the eerie mirror effect or the identity of the combattants themselves, Percy looks like Armageddon would be a blessing. Back to the gang.)

George: Alright? Now, let's start simple. Disarming?

Ron: Oh boy...

Fred: Just point the wand at your opponent and say "Expelliarmus".

Percy: You will be careful, won't you? I don't want to be responsible for explaining your injuries to Mother!

Lynn: (pointing the wand at Percy) Petrificus Totalus!

(Percy freezes; falls over. They all look at Lynn.)

Fred: Uh...

George: Lynn...

Lynn: (innocent blink) What? Weren't we doing Freezing Charms yet?

(Fade out on the slightly scared, slightly admiring looks she's getting.)


(Scene: Weasley kitchen. Lynn's poking at the kettle. It's poking back. She sighs and reaches in the draining board for a saucepan when AP barges into the room.)

Lynn: (nodding towards the kettle) I swear that thing can see me. I brought out the Turkish and it refused to let me within a few feet of it. (beat; seeing the look on his face -- somewhere between angry and panicked) What's with you?

AP: Get me OUT of here! I mean, Uncle Arthur's cool and everything, but if I have to explain ... (*shudder*) escapators one more time, I'm gonna rip out what hair he has left!

Lynn: (filling her saucepan) It can't be that bad.

AP: He tried to use my laptop, Purple Peril! I always thought the 'white-out on the screen' thing was a geek myth!

Lynn: He knows from white-out?

AP: He has a bottle. One shelf down from the plug collection. Along with a few Dictaphones and a stapler held shut with an elastic band.

Lynn: Held ... shut?

AP: I took the rubber band off. It tried to staple my hand to the shelf.

(Lynn raises an eyebrow but the water has started to boil; she dumps the contents of a packet into it and stirs briskly. Enter Jane, looking a bit dishevelled with various ... things ... stuck in her hair.)

Jane: You know ... I thought magic was gonna be a lot more fun. (to the lack of looks) Well, seeing as you're so interested, I had Accio lessons. And none of Daria's foresight. Or reflexes.

(Lynn adds sugar to her concoction -- neither she nor AP are looking at Jane. Jane looks incredibly peeved by this.)

AP: Though I guess I see his point about the money. I mean, English money's warped. Why's it all funny shapes and sizes?

Lynn: (stirring again) It's friendliness to the blind and partially sighted. They're an equal opportunity sort of country.

AP: What, you mean like opportunity to no one? (Lynn nods and goes mug-hunting) Figures.

Jane: (sniffing) I'll forgive you for ignoring me if you pour me some of that. You have no idea how sick I am of tea.

(Lynn has produced four mugs and is pouring ... glop that smells too much like coffee to actually smell like coffee into them. She hands one to Jane, who swallows some of it undiluted, shudders, and heads for the faucet to add some water. AP goes milk-hunting as Lynn moves the other three mugs to the table -- she uses Wingardium Leviosa to do it. Then she goes to the table and takes a swig of her own brew.)

AP: Where's Erudite Emerald? I guess the fourth cup's for her...

Jane: Good luck. She prefers tea. Now that she's found a way to take caffeine that doesn't involve involuntary muscle spasms...

Lynn: Good thing it's not for her, then, isn't it?

Jane: But then who...?

(As if in reply, Arthur staggers in. He looks tired, like he didn't get enough sleep.)

Arthur: Morning, all. Is there tea?

(Lynn just holds up the mug. Arthur, too tired to argue, takes it and swigs. He nearly chokes on the first mouthful, then looks at Lynn.)

Lynn: (as if talking to a very small child) Cof. Fee.

Jane: Like tea, only ... looks stronger, smells stronger, tastes stronger and ... well, is stronger.

AP: And the way she makes the stuff, you won't be tired for awhile.

Jane: Like, for days.

AP: Milk might help, if you want to tone it down some...

Arthur: (cradling the mug protectively) No! Er ... no, thank you; I'll take it as is.

(With that, he takes another mouthful; obviously the effects, if not the taste, are growing on him. He leaves still carrying his mug, and Jane and AP look at Lynn, who shrugs and takes another sip of her drink.)


(Scene: Weasley sitting room. Daria is holding a a little rubber ball, squinting at it. Jane wanders in, with Lynn right behind her.)

Jane: It's an interesting piece. What does it say to you?

Daria: (bringing out her wand; pointing it at the ball) Lumos Sphericus.

(The ball lights up green; the other two girls look at it, eyebrows raised.)

Lynn: You can say that again.

Daria: I thought the Lumos spell that lights up wand tips was interesting. I thought I'd see if it had other applications.

Jane: Yeah, but what are you going to do with a glowing rubber ball? Apart from submit it to the MOMA?

Lynn: (smirk) Aussie Rules Quidditch.

(Ron, Fred, George and AP poke their heads around a door. Ron has broken out in rainbow-coloured polka dots.)

Fred: Did someone say Quidditch?

George: And what's Aussie Rules?

Fred: Come to that, what's an Aussie?

Ron: (unlike those two, he looks panicked) I've heard of this from Dean. I told you this, remember?

Fred: What, with the...?

George: And then when they...?

Fred & George: (unison) Ooooooooooooh...

AP: That's the thing that's with the "no death, no foul", right? (when Lynn nods) Oooooooooooh!

Ron: But you can't play Quidditch outdoors at night! What would happen if you lost the Snitch? Or if a Bludger flew into that Muggle town?

AP: Who said anything about "at night"?

Lynn: Who said anything about "outdoors"?

(Fred, George and Ron exchange looks. Jane and Daria do the same.)


(Scene: Weasley kitchen. Molly and Ginny are in the kitchen, conjuring up a meal [literally]. Molly's stirring something in a saucepan on the hob and Ginny's rooting through the cupboards.)

Molly: (not looking) Oh, Ginny, while you're there, could you get me the...?

George: (OS) QUIDDIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!

(*WHAP*)

Ginny: Ow!

(Now Molly looks 'round and sees Ginny rubbing the back of her head; her hair's full of flour and she looks vastly put out. They both look at the little glowing green ball, which is now lying on the floor. Then they look up at the door between the kitchen and the sitting room, through which AP barges. He grabs the ball off the floor and then freezes at the looks he's getting from the Weasley women.)

AP: Sorry. Forgot how much torque a Beater could give a ball.

Molly: What on earth are you lot doing in there?

AP: Aussie Rules Quidditch. (to the still blank looks) You basically got a dark room, a glowing ball and you peg it at each other as hard as you can.

Molly: Well, that's the daftest idea I've ever heard--

Ginny: And I want to play!

AP: (big grin, handing her a Beater's bat) Here's your "broomstick"!

(Ginny grins back, grabs the bat and runs into the darkened sitting room, with AP right behind her. Molly looks scandalised.)


(Scene: Weasley kitchen. AP is sitting at the table, poring over a large book. Lynn is sitting across from him, lacing her boots. Daria walks in, shrugging into her coat, and AP slams the book, looking disgusted.)

AP: This sucks. Don't they have any of this crap on CD-ROM?

Daria: Would you be able to use it on your computer anyway?

AP: Yeah, well, you try getting white-out off a computer screen. It's wrecked! And I can't ask Uncle Arthur to replace it because even if he knew what to look for and how to buy ... well, anything in the normal world, he couldn't afford it!

Lynn: Would it help if I promised to replace the machine out of my trust fund?

AP: Aw, c'mon, Purple Peril; I mean, it's nice of you and all that, but I couldn't... (Lynn glares at him; he stops, blushing and a little afraid) Uh ... eee ... I...

Daria: I believe the words you're groping for are "thank you".

AP: Yeah. Uh. Eee. I...

(Enter Jane, Fred, George, Ginny and Molly.)

Molly: Now, dears, Arthur won't be able to join us for this shopping trip; something about a necklace with a minor rash curse in it going to a pawn shop in Electric Avenue. Wizards can be very petty... (when Fred and George snicker) And it's not funny, you two! And if I ever hear of you doing anything like that...

Ginny: Mum, you should explain about Floo Powder. Remember when Harry wound up in Knockturn Alley that time...

Molly: Oh dear, we'd better not have that happening again. Ginny, you go first and show them, would you?

(Ginny graps a pinch of Floo Powder from the pot by the fireplace, chucks it into the fire and steps in.)

Ginny: (loud and clear) Diagon Alley!

(Ginny vanishes. Fred goes next as Daria looks green and Jane reaches for her sketch pad with the speed of a gunslinger.)

Jane: Wow.

Daria: That's not the exclamation I'd use.

Ron: (as George goes) You and Lynn might want to take your glasses off, Daria. Harry had his broken last time.

Molly: Why don't you go next, Daria dear?

(Daria pockets her glasses, nervously takes a pinch of the Floo Powder, and tosses it into the fireplace. Then she steps in.)

Daria: (very deliberate) Di. Ag. On. Al. Ley.

Molly: (as Daria vanishes) Very good, dear! Jane?

(Jane reluctantly puts her sketchpad away, takes a pinch of Floo Powder and approaches the fireplace. As she does, Lynn and AP share a look.)

Jane: (OS) Diagon Alley!

(Molly turns to Lynn and AP.)

Molly: AP dear?

AP: Ladies first.

Molly: Lynn, then?

Lynn: He said ladies first.

(Molly looks at her a little strangely, but takes her turn at the floo. When she goes, Lynn and AP smirk.)

AP: (obviously practicing his innocent act) She went just ahead of me; I don't know what could've happened! (beat) Hey, y'think she accidentally went down Knockturn like that Harry kid?

Lynn: (practicing too; and she's better) I got a mouthful of soot and was coughing a bit. Guess I wasn't clear enough. (With that, she grabs a pinch of Floo Powder and chucks it into the fire) Knockturn Alley!

(As Lynn vanishes, AP looks at the fire, which is burning a little low. He piles some more wood on and looks at it critically again. Satisfied, he goes for the Floo Powder.)


(Scene: Diagon Alley. Daria, Jane and AP are in front of Fortean Florescue's ice cream parlour, nibbling at small cones.)

Daria: And you really expected anyone to believe that?

AP: Well, it fooled Aunt Molly...

Daria: Fine. And you really expected anyone who isn't unbelievably naïve to believe that?

Jane: She could have at least let me in on it. It could have been great drawing material in there!

Daria: And you haven't got enough artistic inspiration to last you for the next thirty years? I mean, look at this place.

(Pan around at Daria's orders. The white architechture and gleaming brass doors of Gringotts dominate the alley. Cauldrons of every size and metal gleam in the sun. Wizards and witches in brightly coloured robes mill about, carrying bags and boxes. It's bright and colourful and very beyond the realm of Muggle experience. It's very easy in the light of that to see Daria's point.)

Jane: Okay ... I'm just planning to live another seventy years, at least.

(Daria rolls her eyes. Lynn approaches from around a corner; she looks dirty and a little shaken.)

AP: So how was it?

Lynn: Take one of the worst nightmares you've had, marry it up with The Fall of the House of Usher and throw in a little Lovecraft for seasoning.

Jane: And you didn't let me in on it?

(Without a word, Lynn throws a small yellow box at Jane. She examines it -- it's a disposable camera. Jane beams.)

Lynn: It wasn't any fun without any money anyway. Come on.

Jane: It's not going to be as easy as using an ATM, is it.

Daria: Knowing the wizard world, it's not. But console yourself with the fact that it will be more impressive to look at.


(Scene: Gringotts. Lynn and Daria lead the way into the bank and Jane and AP follow along. Daria, Jane and AP stop dead when they notice the Gringott staff.)

Daria: Goblins. (beat) Actual goblins.

(Jane has just pulled out her sketchpad until AP grabs her by the arm.)

AP: Make with the memory storage and do the drawing later.

(The trio move towards the tellers, where Lynn is showing one of the goblins a token she's wearing around her neck -- it's a silver disk embossed with the emblem of a striking falcon.)

Griphook: Ah, Ms Smythe. You're here about the domestic accounts -- vaults 745 through 748. Right this way, please...

Daria: (facefault) Four vaults of this wizard money?

Lynn: No, more like one and a half. Vault 745 is mine. Vaults 747 and 748 are for the four of us to use for however long we're at Hogwarts.

Jane: Funny; I don't remember filling in any scholarship application forms.

AP: Are you complaining?

Daria: And ... vault 746?

(In response, Lynn just digs through a pocket and produces a small pewter disc on a pewter chain. That disc is also embossed with a falcon. Daria looks at Lynn in shock as Lynn presses it into Daria's hand.)

Lynn: Come on. Let's not keep the goblin waiting. (beat) Oh, one thing. Could you transfer about a quarter of the contents of vault 745 to the Weasleys' vault?

Griphook: Certainly, Ms Smythe. Let me just get the appropriate forms and a quill.

Daria: (sees what Lynn's doing and likes it) Make it two.

(As she says this, the Weasley clan approach. Griphook nods and moves along the counter.)

Molly: Hello, dears. Is there a problem with your vaults?

Lynn: No, just moving some gold around. I felt it necessary to pay my recent tutors.

Molly: Oh, that's really not necessary, dear; we were glad to have you...

(Griphook returns with two quills and two rolls of parchment. As Daria and Lynn unroll them to have a look, Fred and George move behind Daria and Lynn respectively and peer over their shoulders. They see the amount being transferred, presumably, because they nearly keel over with the shock.)

Fred: Ginny! Ron! Come look at this!

George: This makes our Galleon Prize Draw win look like chicken feed! Wow; cheers, you two...

(Ron moves next to George; Ginny stands on tiptoe to see over Fred's shoulder. Molly comes up behind them, stern.)

Molly: No, dears; it's most kind of you to think of us but... (she sees the amounts as well, stops dead) Oh my.

Daria: We're glad to do it, Mrs Weasley. And believe me -- I might take no for an answer, but I'm not sure Lynn knows the meaning of the word.

Lynn: Sure I do. When it's me using it.

(With a flourish, Lynn signs her name to the parchment and hands it to Griphook. Daria does the same, minus the flourish. Molly looks from one look-alike to the other, speechless.)

Griphook: Now, you'll be wanting vault 747 to start with? For your school things. Someone will be with you in a moment, Mrs Weasley.

(Griphook leads Daria, Jane, Lynn and AP off somewhere. AP looks back, then awkwardly jogs back to the stunned Weasleys.)

AP: Uh ... you might not know to do this but ... never mention that to Purple Peril again. She doesn't like people throwing it in her face that she's ... y'know... nice sometimes. If you want, just think of it like you're my family and she takes care of her own.

(Molly nods a little spastically.)

Jane: (OS) Come on, AP!

(AP grins at the Weasleys and jogs off again. The Weasleys exchange looks. Then Fred and George grin.)

Fred: A Nimbus 2001?

George: Nah; Malfoy's got one of them. 2000 will do.

Molly: Fred! George!

(They fall to bickering.)


(Scene: Vault 747, ext. Two carts wheel to a stop in front of the vault doors; Griphook is with Lynn and Jane in the lead car while AP shares the following one with Daria. Jane, Lynn and AP look like kids at an amusement park. Daria, however, just looks very, very sick.)

AP: (slightly grossed out) You're putting these jeans in the wash, Erudite Emerald.

Daria: (weakly) Sorry.

(Lynn, meanwhile, is fitting her pendant into a slot in the wall near the door. The door opens, and they all peer inside. It's huge and its contents are predominantly gold. There are just no words, as evidenced by the looks on the faces of the gang.)

AP: Eeeeeeeeeeeee...

Daria: It's school money. I take it our fees are coming out of this?

Jane: Are theirs this size?

Griphook: Ever so slightly larger, actually.

Daria: (weak smile) Not anymore, they're not.

Lynn: Come on; let's collect some money and get out of here. We have a lot to get before we meet Ron again.

AP: What, like our own wands?

Jane: If they have Quik Quotes Quills, I want to see what else they've got for art supplies.

Daria: I'm interested in magic texts myself.

Lynn: There's something else we have to get. And given the nature of the shopping, we should probably get it over with first.

Jane: Come on, Lynn; it can't be that bad.

(Lynn raises an eyebrow at Jane, who begins to doubt her own words.)


(Scene: Madame Malkin's. Daria's up on the platform being fitted for her Hogwarts robes. Her face is miserably deadpan.)

Daria: It's the bridesmaid's dress all over again. (beat; slightly evil smirk) But at least I'm not suffering alone this time...

(She looks over to the other platform, where Jane is looking decidedly less than thrilled.)

Jane: I will kill you. And bury your body in these robes.

Daria: Like it'd make a difference. I have to wear them anyway.

Jane: True. (beat) Solidarity?

Daria: Humiliation in numbers.

Jane: I thought that was safety in numbers.

Daria: We're going to a school for juvenile witches, run by a nation that gave us Monty Python. And you expect safety.

(short pause)

Jane: I really hate it when you're right.

(Pan to the other side of the room, where AP and Lynn are waiting in chairs.)

AP: Floor-length robes? Jeez, I have enough trouble walking in pants!

Lynn: You think you've got it bad. I wear this crap, and that's months of street-fighting training down the drain.

AP: (blink) I don't wanna know, do I?

Lynn: (lost in her train of thought) I mean, imagine trying to execute a flying kick to someone's windpipe in this thing?

AP: Purple Peril? Take the Fifth before you scare me. (beat) Never mind, too late. Just ... take it anyway, huh?

(Lynn looks at him, shrugs and shuts up. AP ponders that with a slightly nervous look. Daria and Jane finally step down from the fittings.)

Daria: Let me out of here.

Lynn: Wands next?

Daria: Suits me, so long as it's nothing to do with clothing. I felt too ... much like Quinn.

Jane: Here's a thought that's guaranteed to cheer you up.

Daria: Jane ... this is me.

Jane: Even you'd get a kick out of this. (beat) Quinn ... wearing ... this stuff.

(Short pause, then they all start laughing and remove themselves from the shop as Madame Malkin gives them an odd look.)


(Scene: Ollivander's. Enter TFJM, who look around at the near-empty shop.)

Jane: Wow. (pulls sketchpad) It's like something in a Gothic horror story.

Lynn: 'The Telltale Heartstring', maybe.

(Jane ignores that, content to sketch the room. Daria groans. AP just looks confused.)

AP: Not even gonna ask this time. (beat) Is there a bell we ring to get some help, or what?

(Ollivander appears as if from nowhere behind them.)

Ollivander: Good morning.

Daria/AP: Gah!

(Daria, Lynn and AP spin round to face Ollivander. Jane keeps sketching, oblivious.)

Lynn: Hello. You must be Mr Ollivander. Your reputation precedes you.

Ollivander: Ah, yes, you would be Miss Smythe. I remember your father -- twelve inches, cedar, supple ... heartstring of Hebridean Black.

AP: (impressed) Guess I'm not the only one with a memory...

Ollivander: And this must be the half-blood Weasley. Your mother was Carol, was she not?

AP: Yeah... Wait, she was in here?

Ollivander: (nods) Six inches, rainbow eucalyptus, pleasantly bendy, hair from the mane of a particularly friendly unicorn mare. Does she still find use for it in the Muggle world?

AP: (sad) Not lately.

Ollivander: A pity. It's a fine wand. (sees Daria) Another Smythe?

Daria: (reluctant) So it would appear.

Ollivander: The resemblance is uncanny. How remarkable. (nodding to Jane) And this young lady?

Jane: (absent nod; still sketching) Yeah hi.

Ollivander: I believe I have the perfect wand for this one. Eleven inches, balsa, somewhat whippy, phoenix feather. (removes it from a shelf, extends it to the still oblivious Jane) Try it out, if you would...

(Jane absently sticks her pencil behind her ear, takes the wand and gives it a wave. It gives off a shower of red sparks and Jane drops her pad in shock.)

Jane: Whoa! (looks at wand speculatively) Hey, can I carve designs on this thing?

Ollivander: (taken aback) I wouldn't advise it.

Jane: Paint?

Ollivander: (sniffily) If you must...

Jane: Cool!

(Jane stuffs the wand in her pocket, retrieves her pad, takes up her pencil and resumes sketching. Ollivander watches her for a moment with slightly offended eyes.)

Ollivander: Now... (nods to Daria) ...Miss Smythe?

Daria: (firm) Morgendorffer.

Ollivander: (*blink*) Yes. Well. Perhaps oak ... (rummages on the shelves) and unicorn hair? Nine inches, somewhat rigid... Give it a wave.

(Daria does so. Absolutely nothing happens.)

Daria: Uh...

Ollivander: No? Not to worry. Let me see ... definitely unicorn hair ... something inflexible, I think... (Daria scowls at the ephasis on 'inflexible') Perhaps mahogany, ten inches...

(He hands her the new wand. She waves it. Nothing.)

Daria: (dry) Perhaps not.

Ollivander: Hmm ... a difficult customer... (Daria scowls at him again.) Ah! White birch, seven inches, nice and sturdy. (hands the wand over) Give it a try.

(She does. Green and orange sparks hit the wall inches from Ollivander's head. He does not flinch.)

Daria: (slight smirk) There.

Ollivander: (dry) Indeed. (turns to Lynn) Miss Smythe?

Lynn: (somewhat reluctant) Cullen.

Ollivander: ('not this again...') As you say. Now ... dragon heartstring would be best -- Hungarian Horntail, I think...

Lynn: (dry) You flatter me.

Ollivander: Preferable to your aunt's wand, Miss. Eight inches, rosewood, Veela hair, the vain madam. I don't even normally use it, but nothing else would suit her... In any case, try this. Silver birch, nine inches, a bit bendy.

(Lynn takes the wand and waves it. Purple and silver sparks fly.)

AP: Way to go, Purple Peril!

Lynn: (blush; attempt at monotone) I made with the sparks. Go me.

Ollivander: Now for you, young man. Perhaps something in pine ... eleven inches, core of phoenix feather.

(Ollivander hands him the wand. AP waves it, squinting in anticipation of sparks. There are none. His shoulders slump.)

AP: Aww ... nuts.

Ollivander: Never mind. Let's see ... perhaps Douglas fir ... unicorn hair ... ten inches, springy.

(AP waves it; nothing.)

Daria: I have a bad feeling about this, for some reason.

Jane: You had to say that, right?


(Dissolve to: some time later. AP is surrounded by most of the wands in the shop. Ollivander seems to be taking this in stride but AP looks disappointed and the three girls look bored. AP waves yet another wand and yet again, nothing happens.)

Lynn: Ohfortheloveof...

AP: What do you want from me, Purple Peril? I want this over with as much as you do!

Ollivander: Don't be discouraged, young McIntyre. It took Harry Potter about this long before he found his wand...

AP: Yeah, but he finally found one, didn't he? Oh man, I think I'd have better luck just making my own damn wand!

(Ollivander looks shocked, probably at AP's language ... then gets a funny look in his eyes.)

Ollivander: Perhaps you would, at that. And perhaps I can help you with the process. It so happens I've a number of potential shafts and cores in the back awaiting assembly.

AP: Uh ... sure. I guess. Thanks. (beat) Mr O? You okay?

Ollivander: Hm? Oh. I'll be all right, young McIntyre. I was merely remembering ... when I was old enough to have my own wand, I came into the shop like any other customer. But I couldn't find a wand that suited me either, so I decided to make one of my own. The moment I laid eyes on it ... on my own creation ... that was when I knew what I wanted to do with my life. That was when the family knew this shop would stay in Ollivander hands when my uncle passed on.

AP: (dubious) Uh ... right. Good for you, sir.

Jane: So ... what? Do the rest of us just wait around?

Lynn: Not a good idea. We do have other shopping to take care of, after all.

Ollivander: Ah. Yes. Quite right.

AP: Go on, guys! I'll be fine! (beat) I think.


(Scene: Ollivander's, ext. Daria, Jane and Lynn step out, looking bemused. Lynn pulls out her wand and looks at it.)

Daria: He was good, wasn't he?

Lynn: Mmm. (beat) Both birch. Wonder if that means anything.

Jane: (*shrug*) I dunno. Balsa for an artist is so cliche. (beat) So where to next?

Lynn: We're supposed to meet Ron and his friends outside Fortescue's. So let's go.

(They head off.)

Daria: I'm still having a hard time believing this. I mean, not only am I a witch, but I'm one with an oversized Gringotts vault.

Lynn: I guess that's where the trust fund came from. I wonder what the dollar/Galleon conversion rate is...

Jane: Hey, who's that with Ron?

(They look. Standing in front of Fortescue's are Ron, a small boy with black hair and glasses, and a girl with bushy hair. [I don't think we need an introduction...])

Lynn: One way to find out. (she steps towards them)

Ron: Heya, Daria, Lynn, Jane! Meet Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.

Lynn: So you're the Boy Who Lived. Dad talked about you some. I won't ask you to show me the scar, you'll be glad to hear.

Harry: Hello. Ron's told us about you. Your dad's an Auror, isn't he?

Lynn: One of the best currently in action, apparently.

Herm: Oh, it must be fascinating to hear these things from the Auror's point of view. Professor Moody wouldn't tell us anything about his Auror days ... well, that was mainly because he wasn't an Auror at all, as it turned out...

Daria: We heard ... something about that. Nice to meet you, Hermione.

Herm: Likewise. So what's America like? I mean, I've read all about it, but the books are no substitute for actually having experienced the culture first-hand.

Ron: Never thought I'd hear her say that.

Herm: Oh, shut up, Ron!

Harry: So how've you liked the Burrow?

Lynn: Well, the gnomes are interesting. Oh, I found an alternative to the traditional degnoming.

Ron: She was practicing Wingardium Leviosa...

Herm: Oh dear. Did you get an owl from the Ministry?

Ron: That's the best bit, Hermione. We got special dispensation from the Ministry so we can teach them the things they'll need to know from the fifth year. We got to use magic all summer!

Herm: Really? Why on earth would the Ministry do that?

Ron: Who cares?

Lynn: Anyway, Harry, heard from the twins you play a mean game of Quidditch. And have a fairly nice broom.

Harry: Fairly nice?

Lynn: Sorry. Haven't seen it firsthand so I can't really give a decent opinion.

Harry: The Ireland side won the Quidditch World Cup on Firebolts.

Lynn: Hmm. May have to pick myself up one, if only for pickup games.

(Harry, Ron and Hermione look a little confused at the terminology.)

Jane: American term. Means a casual game with a team picked up off the street.

Harry: Lynn, a Firebolt's kind of ... expensive for a casual broom...

Ron: (fervent) She can afford it. Trust me.

Harry: Well, I could show you Quality Quidditch supplies; you could probably pick one up there.

Lynn: Sounds good. We have some time to kill before AP comes out of Ollivander's anyway.

Herm: Ron tells me you like to read, Daria. I could show you around Flourish and Blotts, if you like. They have some exceptional books on magical theory.

Daria: Sounds good to me.

Ron: Oh, not another one! We're on holiday and you're reading magical theory!

Jane: While they're doing that, maybe you could find me an art supply store or something? My paints got squashed on the plane.

Ron: Sure! Anything but Flourish and Blotts. I'll have to be in there enough for the set books.

Harry: So how about we meet in Flourish and Blotts in about an hour? That'll give us all time to get through everything.

(They nod and separate -- Harry goes off with Lynn, Hermione with Daria and Ron with Jane.)


(Scene: Quality Quiddich Supplies, ext. There's another crowd formed in the window. Harry and Lynn approach.)

Lynn: What's the commotion over there?

Harry: Dunno. Maybe there's a new racing broom out. Year before last, the Firebolt was the top of the range model for broomsticks, but I suppose they came up with something new this year.

(They shoulder their way towards the front and stop when they see an absolutely gorgeous broomstick -- it makes Harry's Firebolt look a little frumpy. They turn their attention to the conversation an older couple are having as they look at the broom.)

Older Gentleman: ...Stormfront model. Word has it that the Tree-Skimmers will be riding those in favour of the old Firebolt this year.

Harry: (slightly scandalised) 'Old' Firebolt?

Elderly Lady: I think that might give the Tree-Skimmers the edge on the competition at this year's Whizz Hard Invitational.

Older Gentleman: I don't know, my dear. I still think the Kenmare Kestrels stand a chance.

Elderly Lady: Oh, come now, Richard, the only team the Kestrels could beat this year are the Chudley Cannons.

Lynn: (interested) The Stormfront, huh...?

Harry: Lynn, have you ever ridden a broom before?

Lynn: Fred and George's Cleansweep Fives.

Harry: A real racing broom is nothing like a Cleansweep. Sometimes they get outstripped by butterflies.

Lynn: A racing broom can't be any worse than Amethyst. (to the look) I have a motorcycle. A racing bike, to be exact.

Harry: But that's... (Lynn's already in the shop) ...on the ground...

(Harry wanders in after her, looking a little dazed.)


(Scene: Flourish and Blotts, ext. Ron is helping Jane dust a great deal of what looks like chalk dust off her shirt.)

Ron: I'm really sorry about that. You look that much like a Muggle, someone should have warned you...

Jane: I go into art supply stores, I attack the art supplies. They're not supposed to attack back!

AP: (OS) Hey ho, Art-Smart Scarlet! Whoa; snowball fight?

(Jane and Ron look up to see AP staggering towards them, looking just a little green.)

Jane: Attack of the Killer Erasers. What happened to you?

Ron: Did you get your wand in the end? They said you were having some trouble...

AP: More like I made my wand.

(He digs into a bag, pulls out a long thin box and pulls out what looks like an ornate beechwood table leg. Ron and Jane stare.)

Ron: You made it? Weird!

Jane: Couldn't you have done something about the shape?

AP: If I'd let him work it, I'd have been all day and there's this stupid book list. Maybe you can show me later?

Jane: Sure. If he won't let me carve designs into mine, at least I get to get creative with yours...

Ron: Just be careful how much you take off; you don't want the core to get exposed. (beat) What's in the core of yours, anyway?

AP: (going greener) Don't ask. You don't wanna know and I don't wanna think about it.

(AP stalks towards the door of Flourish and Blotts. Jane and Ron look at each other, shrug and follow.)


(Scene: Flourish and Blotts, int. Daria and Hermione are browsing the shelves; they're already holding their set books. Jane, Ron and AP enter and look around.)

Jane: Wow.

AP: Jeeeeeez. This place just scares me.

Jane: I'm sure Daria knows a word for phobia of the written word...

AP: Not just! I mean, think how much less space it'd all take up soft copy! Less paper, too, and less ink! Think of the plantlife!

Jane: Eco-friendly speeches? From the guy who's rumoured to have poisoned two acres of wheatfield when he was thirteen?

AP: Hey, no one can pin that on me! (beat) Anyway, it was more like three.

Ron: (looking around desperately) Daria? ...I can't believe I'm saying this ... Hermione? A little help?

(Hermione turns from her browsing and joins the group.)

Herm: So what were you all discussing?

AP: Farming.

Jane: Slash and burn agriculture.

Ron: (wanting a subject change) Got the set books?

Herm: Of course! Oh, and we found some marvellous books on theory for extra reading...

Ron: I don't believe you, Hermione! I think I'd rather hear about AP poisoning the wheat crops of America!

Herm: What? Oh, AP, you never...

AP: Jeez, it wasn't mass murder or anything! I was just fooling with chemically-made crop circles and...

(Daria rounds a corner, laden down with books)

Daria: Not the wheatfield fiasco again.

AP: Hey, don't blame me for bringing it up; it was her! (He tries to point accusingly at Jane and knocks over a large stack of books.) Ohhhh ... damn.

Herm: Erm ... shall we find you copies of the set books? We know where to look now, after all, and...

Ron: Well, shouldn't we wait for Harry and Lynn?

Jane: We may be here awhile if we do. Trust me; if Lynn's as serious about her broomsticks as she is about her motorcycles, she'll be in there all day.

Daria: Well, why don't we get...

Lynn: (OS) I think I'm going to like this place.

(Enter a slightly breathless Harry)

Harry: Sorry. We got in awhile ago but Lynn found the Curses and Jinxes section and ... (as he sees all faces bar Hermione's go deathly pale) ... have I said something?

(A moment's tense silence.)

AP: (at the top of his lungs) DROP IT, PERIL!

(He, Daria and Jane run out of shot. Harry and Hermione look really confused.)

Ron: Y'know Fred and Geroge? (They give bewildered nods) They take lessons from her.

(That drives the message home; the confusion in their faces is transfigured into horror.)


(Scene: Flourish and Blotts, ext. Lynn is forcibly dragged out the door by her companions, grumbling.)

Lynn: There wasn't time to get half what I wanted...

Jane: (looking at the spines of Lynn's books) "Just About Forgivable Curses"; "Formula for Revenge -- a Potion Master's Guide"; "The Midas Touch and Other Inconveniences"...?

(Jane gives Lynn a bewildered look.)

Lynn: (*sigh*) You cast them on other people, Jane.

AP: Hey, can I borrow that Formula one?

Harry: (to Ron and Hermione) Good job we're used to dodging death at Hogwarts' by now.

Herm: Was there anything else you wanted to get?

Harry: You might want an owl. They're always useful. Especially if you don't want to borrow the school owls for anything. You're welcome to borrow Hedwig, but she's not any good for secrecy; snowy owls aren't native around here.

Ron: And you can borrow Pig if you like, but he's useless. Little show-off.

Lynn: Might be an idea. Daria?

Daria: Well, they used to call me one in grade school. Only fitting that I own one of the damn things.

AP: I'm gonna find some food. After the whole wand and potion ingredients thing, I think I can just about eat.

Lynn: Meet you guys out in front of ... Eeylops, is it?

Harry: They have the best selection, yeah.

Ron: And if you go into the Menagerie, you might wind up with some crazed ginger furball.

Herm: Don't talk about Crookshanks that way!

(The two stride off, squabbling. Harry shrugs and heads off after them, followed by Jane and AP. Lynn looks at Daria.)

Lynn: They called you owl?

Daria: Uh-huh. (beat) Tell me you never got "misery chick".

Lynn: Not at school. Summer camp.

(slight pause)

Daria & Lynn: Anyway. Owls. (beat) Oh, CHRIST.

(They walk away before they do the unison again.)


(Scene: Eeylops Owl Emporium. Lynn enters, Daria right behind.)

Lynn: I'm thinking something fairly big. I mean, I don't know what I'm going to wind up sending ... or who I'll be sending it to, but AP might have use for it...

(There is the sound of heavy flapping wings, and a great horned owl flies out of the back room. It lands on Lynn's head and hoots once.)

Daria: (stunned) Well ... it stands proudly and proclaims 'I am'?

(The owl screeches, then flutters onto Lynn's shoulder and turns its head to look at her. She stretches out her arm and it moves out onto her wrist, still looking at her.)

Lynn: Hello.

(The owl hoots once, flaps its wings and settles.)

Daria: It sure looks ... comfortable.

(Enter the witch who runs the Emporium.)

Witch: Oh, hello. Sorry if he's been of any bother to you...

Lynn: (still locking eyes with the owl) No ... no bother. I was looking for an owl anyway.

(Daria reaches out for the great horned owl, who beats its wings threateningly at her. Daria backs off very quickly.)

Daria: I ... think I might pick one of my own. This one ... seems to like you. (beat) Got anything ... less intimidating?

Witch: Well, we have a few Scops owls ... they don't sell very well, but they're loyal. A little flighty on occasion, but...

Lynn: Daria, you sure?

Daria: Sure. It'd be nice to have an owl of my own anyway.


(Scene: Eeylops', ext. Harry, Ron and the others are standing outside, leafing through books or examining their wands. Daria and Lynn exit the Menagerie. The great horned owl is still resting on Lynn's shoulder. Daria has a small birdcage in which a small grey owl bats around like a demented ping pong ball.)

Lynn: He wouldn't be caged. Guys, meet Shylock.

Daria: I don't know if this thing can be named.

AP: (peering in at the Scops) Hey, it's a winged Dustpuppy! Hey ho, Dustpuppy!

Daria: AP, I'm not naming it ... what are you...?

(AP is opening the cage and has stuck a hand inside.)

Lynn: (covering her eyes) I can't look...

(AP comes out holding the owl, who hoots happily.)

AP: (cheery) Friendly little Dustpuppy, aren't ya?

(The Scops hoots cheerfully as if in reply.)

Lynn: I don't believe he still has all his fingers. Usually, animals hate him...

Daria: I am not naming him Dustpuppy. (beat) He doesn't have feet, for one thing.

AP: Feet, talons, same diff.

(Daria looks from the owl, who is hooting cheerfully, to AP, who's stroking the owl's head, to Lynn, who shrugs, to Jane, who smirks.)

Daria: (sigh) Put... (beat; resigned) ...'Dustpuppy' back in his cage and let's get out of here.

Herm: Did you get everything?

Jane: Wands...

Daria: Books...

AP: Potion goop...

Lynn: Those godforsaken robes...

Jane: Quills, parchment, sundry art supplies...

Daria: Cauldrons, scales, owls -- one frightening and one feebleminded...

Lynn: Gloves, telescopes, top-of-the-line racing broom...

(beat)

AP: I think that's it. Y'know, I used to hate shopping...

Harry: Are you staying at Ron's with us?

Jane: (dry) Of course. I've always wanted to see a house bust a seam.

Lynn: We're staying with my aunt -- we have shopping of a Muggle nature to do.

AP: We can meet at ... where're we meeting?

Ron: King's Cross. Let's meet outside the building for platforms 9 through 11.

Herm: Do enjoy London -- I hear there's a fascinating exhibit at the Natural History Museum...

Jane: Oh, come on. We managed to do nothing really educational for two whole weeks last time! You really think we're going to start now?

(Hermione looks sheepish and indignant all at once.)


(Scene: Camden market. Daria's standing by a rickety-looking flight of stairs. AP's sitting on the stairs, tapping away at a shiny new laptop.)

Daria: Are you sure this counts as school equipment?

AP: It's a computer. What school doesn't like computers for research and stuff?

Daria: A school where half the students don't even understand the rudiments of electric typewriters.

AP: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Wizards've gotta have URLs same as everyone else.

Daria: Says the man who only bought that thing because his recent host ruined the screen with white-out.

(A small owl with a letter in his beak, recognisable as Pigwidgeon, flies over and hits AP in the head. As AP winces, Pig hits the ground, gets to his 'feet', staggers a little, then bites AP hard on the leg. AP yelps and Pig flies off again, leaving the letter behind. Daria picks it up and looks at it.)

Daria: Definitely for you.

AP: Jeez, what was your first clue? (grabs it, tears it open, reads aloud but not ahead) "AP, mate, you're brilliant! Mum's about forgiven you for nearly burning the house down but careful of any owls from Percy -- he may send a Howler once the burns heal. But now we've got Ashwinder eggs! Cheers! Gred and Forge." (beat; looking up) Come again?

Daria: What's an Ashwinder?

Lynn: (coming down the stairs) According to Newt Scamander, it's sort of akin to a salamander. You leave a wizard fire with something like Floo Powder in it burning too long, you get Ashwinders. They crawl out, lay eggs and die. The eggs incubate really fast -- and I mean "spontanous combustion" fast -- within a few hours. But if you freeze them in time, they're useful for things like love potions. Why?

AP: (realising; guiltily) So ... if you ... maybe ... were the last one to go somewhere by Floo ... and you made sure the fire was burning real good before you left...

Daria: ...You'd accidentally make Ashwinders. And nearly burn down the Weasley house if not for Percy.

(Lynn and Daria just glare at AP, who probably isn't sure what to be more scared about -- the promise of their combined wrath or the eerie exactness with which that glare reproduces itself.)

AP: Uh ... I guess a distraction wouldn't work...?

Lynn: It'd have to be a damn good one...

Jane: (OS) Hey, I could finally afford the Jane Jetson dress!

(All three of them look up. The dress is mostly made of the same foam rubber they use to make those novelty "#1" giant hands for sporting events, and looks ridiculous. Daria and Lynn look up at her in astonishment, then start chuckling, trying to hide it behind their hands. AP, on the other hand, gets up and walks up to a slightly irate Jane.)

AP: Thank you. Really. Thank you.

(Then he starts laughing too. Jane puts her hands on her hips, indignant.)

Jane: What the hell's so funny?

(That just makes them all laugh harder.)


(Scene: Lorna's kitchen. Daria, Jane, Lynn and AP are slumped over their breakfasts, not saying anything. Packed trunks are sitting just visible in the living room nearby. Lorna, dressed in a smart pinstriped skirt suit with a very short skirt and the quintessential Doc Marten three-holes, charges in and stands in the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips.)

Lorna: All right, ladies and gentleman, you have a day ahead of you and it starts now. Finish brekky and let's get a move on.

Jane: (disbelieving) 'Brekky'?

Lorna: It's a British thing, never mind, we need to get you off to the station so quick-chop let's go...

Daria: Where do we have to be again?

Lorna: You won't know as I haven't said but you'll be meeting the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three Quarters and...

AP: Nine and Three-Quarters? Why not Platform Pi?

Lynn: Because there's no barrier between platform 3 and 4.

Jane: Non sequitur. Fifteen-love.

Lynn: Stop with the numbers. You're making me dizzy.

Lorna: You'll see when we get there, now come on, you lot, or we'll be late, getting to the platform is complicated and I need to speak to Arthur at any rate.

(Lorna bustles the stunned quartet out the front door.)


(Smash cut to the car park at the back of King's Cross, in front of the entrance to platforms 9-11. Lorna's little yellow van drives up at Ludicrous Speed and screeches to a halt in front of the building. Daria, Jane, Lynn, AP, four trunks and two owl cages are practically thrown out of the van. While they collect themselves, Lorna rolls down her window and leans out.)

Lorna: I don't see Arthur so will you tell him to get in touch by Floo? I was supposed to meet Steven two ... no, sorry, three minutes ago.

(*Vroom*; Lorna's van vanishes in a cloud of exhaust fumes, leaving the quartet blinking dazedly after her.)

Daria: (slowly) And I'm related to that?

Lynn: Surprises me too, sometimes.

Jane: I can't believe some of my family. And not just my brothers and sisters either.

AP: So. Platform Nine and Three Quarters? Barriers? Come again?

Lynn: From all accounts, Hogsmeade and Hogwarts aren't known to ... 'Muggles'. They had to hide the platform.

(Lynn gets interrupted by a caravan of approaching taxis. They stop pretty much in front of the gang and the door of the first cab opens, disgorging one ballistic Crookshanks.)

Herm: (poking her head out the cab) Crookshanks, NO!

(Crookshanks attaches himself to AP's legs and starts climbing him like a tree.)

AP: Ow. Ow. Ow! OW! OWOWOWOW!

(Lynn grabs the cat and rips him off the front of AP's jacket, causing AP to scream. Lynn turns to Hermione, still holding the wildly struggling cat around the midsection.)

Lynn: Basket. (to the cat) SHUT UP!

(Crookshanks takes one look at her and makes like a Fuzzy Wuzzy Wee Bit. Hermione makes with the basket; Lynn stuffs the cat into it and slams the lid shut.)

Ron: How'd you do that?

Lynn: You just have to speak their language, that's all.

Ron: (aside to Harry) What, y'mean anything to instill bloody terror?

Lynn: More or less.

(Molly comes over from where she's been overseeing the rest of the taxi unloading.)

Molly: All right, you lot, I packed sandwiches -- no, not corned beef, Ron... Oh, and I packed a few for you all as well.

(She hands brown bags to TFJM, who look at them funny.)

Daria: People's parents make lunches for them?

Jane: I've seen these things in history books.

Arthur: Right; I'll show you lot how to get onto the platform. It can be a bit tricky if you're not used to it.


(Scene: Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Neville, looking a little tearful, is checking his pockets delicately. Then he lifts his hat and feels around under it.)

Neville: I don't believe it! I lost Trevor again!

(AP comes out of the barrier at top speed, loses control of both his trolley and his legs, trips and lands right on top of his speeding trolley and -- CRASH! Once the flying luggage has settled, we see that AP has landed right on top of Neville, with the luggage trolley resting half on top of them. Dustpuppy, hooting madly, frees himself from the wreckage of the broken cage and stuffs himself into AP's pocket.)

Neville: Oww...

AP: Sorry! Uh ... hi!

Herm: (coming out of the barrier herself, with Ron right behind) NEVILLE! (runs over to him) Are you all right?

Ron: Oh. AP, meet Neville Longbottom. Neville, my cousin AP McIntyre. (beat) You two'll get along well...

(Daria and Lynn come through together and look at the carnage.)

Lynn: It could have been worse. There could have been sapient pearwood involved.

AP: You mean that's real too?

Herm: (dismissive snort) Those books are so silly! And of course real magic is nothing like that...

(Fred and George follow.)

Fred: Hey, Lynn, there's someone you must meet. Oi, Lee! We owled you about Lynn, right?

George: She'd be great to have aboard with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!

(Lynn gets dragged off by Fred and George while AP glares after them. Daria turns to him with a slightly commiserating raised eyebrow.)

AP: Well? What've they got that I haven't got?

Daria: (thinking) Uh ... Methods 26 through 199?

AP: Hey, can I help it if I couldn't put the stuff I came up with first day at Lawndale into words?

Daria: I guess not. But it looks like they can.

(AP sighs. Daria puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment, then goes back to helping with the carnage. Hermione, seeing that too many hands would be a hinderance, turns to Jane, who's just come through the barrier with Ginny.)

Herm: Jane, you should meet Dean Thomas. He's an artist too, you know.

Jane: (interested) Is he cute?

Herm: I never really thought about it, actually. Come decide for yourself?

Jane: Lead on!

(Hermione leads Jane off towards the throng around the big red steam engine and taps Dean on the shoulder.)

Herm: Dean? This is Jane Lane. She's starting in our year at Hogwarts.

Dean: Heya. Pleased to meet you.

Jane: Likewise.

Herm: Jane's something of an artist too, Dean...

Jane: 'Something of'?

Herm: (blushing) Figure of speech.

(Enter Malfoy, smirking at Jane in a "I like the look of this one" sort of way. He steps in front of her, neatly shouldering an annoyed Dean aside.)

Malfoy: Well well, what have we here? Let me take you away from this Mudblood trash and into more ... refined company.

Jane: 'Mudblood'?

Malfoy: Muggle-born. Like (indicates Dean and Hermione) those individuals. Of no wizarding family, and thus by definition worthless.

Jane: And it amazes me how much personality you haven't got. So you're Draco Malfoy. I heard you were bad, but I guess I thought they were exaggerating.

Malfoy: You've been listening to Potter, then. I've warned him about the dangers of keeping low company, but the Muggle-loving goodie-good refuses to listen to sense.

Jane: 'Potter' has the right idea, I think. And I'm a Muggle-born myself, so according to you, I am 'low company'. (beat; looks him over in an assessing way) I suppose, if the looks are rodential, the personality can't be far away. Go find a ferret run.

(With that, she walks away. Applause from the crowd. Malfoy pinkens a little and stares after her, totally gobsmacked.)

Pansy: (approaching from behind) Draco? Who's she?

Malfoy: Just ... just another Mudblood, Pansy. None of your -- of our concern.

(Pansy looks dubious [a girl can tell] but doesn't say anything ... yet. Instead, she lets him usher her away, while Dean and Hermione stare at Jane.)

Jane: What? I was supposed to stand there and take that?

Dean: Nice use of the language!

Jane: (shrug) You want use of the language, you want Daria...

AP: (OS) Hey, Art-Smart Scarlet! We're ready for demarkation! (beat) Uhhhhhh...

Daria: (OS) I think you mean embarkation, AP.

Jane: You want abuse of the language, talk to him.

(With that, she walks off. Dean shoots Hermione a very confused look.)

Herm: I think it'd be easier to let you get to Hogwarts to see for yourself. I'd better go keep an eye on them. Excuse me...

(She walks off in a bit of a hurry. Dean looks after her, then shrugs it off [with at least partial success] and wanders away.)


(Scene: a carriage on the Hogwarts Express. Daria and Harry sit on one side and Harry and Hermione the other. They're chatting amiably, nibbling at Cauldron Cakes and sipping cans of cola that AP obviously brought.)

Harry: I like this. I sometimes finished Dudley's because his weren't cold enough for him.

Herm: Mother and Father never let me drink it. The phosphoric acid does terrible things to your tooth enamel, not to mention the sugar...

Harry: Oh, just enjoy it, Hermione.

(Hermione smiles a little and sips her drink.)

Herm: Do you think you'll miss the Muggle world? I mean, after four years of Hogwarts, I'm getting used to it...

Harry: And I never really enjoyed all the comforts of the Muggle world anyway, what with the cupboard under the stairs.

Daria: Oh, we brought a few of the necessities of our world. Cola, regular paints, playing cards that don't blow up...

AP: Hey, and I got a new laptop for the occasion...

Herm: Oh, AP, I have bad news for you. Nothing electrical works at Hogwarts. There's just too much magic in the air.

AP: But ... but ... how do you write your essays?

Harry: Quill pen and parchment.

AP: H ... h ... h-handwriting?

(AP keels over on the floor of the carriage with a thump. Harry, Ron and Hermione look surprised. Daria just shrugs with resignation.)

Ron: (sigh) Enervate.

(AP sits up with a panicked expression on his face)

AP: (deep breaths) A typewriter? Do I at least get a typewriter?!

Herm: I wouldn't mind, but some of the teachers might feel it's too ... rooted in the Muggle world, I suppose.

AP: You don't understand! I last handwrote an essay in 4th grade!

Daria: Does Hogwarts hold a class in Remedial Penmanship? This sort of thing can't be all that rare...

Herm: Well, if that was the case, they likely would have had Ron in it by now...

Ron: Oi! (beat) Besides, sometimes having nice big handwriting makes the difference between a five-foot-long essay and only a four-footer.

Daria: I guess that works.

AP: But you've seen my handwriting! It looks like ... like ... like...

Daria: Six year old. Turbulent airplane. Poor motor control.

AP: Thank you. (beat) I think. (beat) There's gotta be a way to make my laptop work!

Herm: Oh, cheer up. Until we get to Hogsmeade station, we're mostly on Muggle tracks and not packed as closely together... you might get a couple hours of Solitaire out of it.

AP: I don't do Solitaire. (beat) Or Windows. (beat) Oh my god, my e-mail!

Harry: Active?

AP: (spastic nod) Very.

Daria: AP, how many people are you going to get e-mail from that aren't here?

AP: Let's see ... there's the s_i_w mailing list and my contacts in the warez and cracker world.

Herm: Well, you could owl someone you trust and have them send over anything urgent.

AP: (smirk) RFC1149 in action.

Ron: RFC1149?

AP: Implementation of TCP/IP over avian-based networks. In short, the world wide web by carrier pigeon. Set yourself up on the roof with a bowl of birdseed, and you're a packet sniffer!

Daria: AP...

AP: (on a roll now) Hey, set yourself up on your roof with a shotgun. (mimes firing said shotgun) Blam! Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'packet loss'!

Daria: AP, that's not even funny to me.

AP: (sigh) All I can do is geek humour and no one gets it but me...

Daria: You know, if you're upset about your computer, just think how disappointed Lynn will be when she realises that her CD player doesn't...

Lynn: (OS from the next compartment down) EXCUSE ME?!?

(There is some low muttering -- all four of them are straining to hear but all they can hear is the anxious note in Ron's voice and Jane's grumbling. Then a door is flung open and they hear a piece of plastic and metal getting thrown down the train. AP opens the door a crack and they all peer out to see a Discman lying in the corridor. A further noise alerts them and they stand back as Lynn appears in her own doorway, wand raised. Ron peers behind her nervously.)

Ron: Lynn, I know you're...

Lynn: (pointing the wand at the Discman) Reducto!

(The thing blows up. Everyone just stares.)

Ron: (weakly) ...Upset...

Lynn: (shrug; perfectly calmly) Damn thing never worked right anyway. (beat; noticing the audience) Hi, guys.

(She steps back into the compartment. Ron and AP share a look. AP grins. Ron goggles. And then they both step into their compartments and shut the doors in unison.)


(Scene: Hogsmeade station, night. The train comes to a stop and TFJM, Harry, Hermione, and Ron get out of the car and look around. There aren't very many people left on the platform. Harry et. al look around for Hagrid, looking somewhat confused. TFJM is standing around wondering "Where do we go from here?")

AP: (doing a bad C3P0 impression) Oh, no one to meet us? (Lynn looks at him oddly) What?

Harry: Strange. Hagrid is usually around to greet the first years.

Jane: Think our reputation precedes us?

Fred: Nah. He can't run *that* far anyway.

George: Probably he just didn't wait cos you're not actually first-years.

Fred: Not normal first-years, at least.

George: Not that you could ever be normal anything...

(Dean Thomas wanders up to them, mercifully ending this little double-act.)

Dean: If you're looking for first years, they left on the boats already.

Daria: (flatly) Oh, the pain, the pain.

Jane: Yeah, and I was hoping to get rid of what I had for lunch.

(Dean looks at her strangely, then shrugs and walks off to the carriages, which our heroes see for the first time.)

Jane: So, ground turbulance or sea sickness. Your call.

(They all pause, Daria looks a bit green. The rest of the gang shrug in a "What choice do we have now?" way and walk off camera.)


(Scene: carriage interior. Daria and Lynn are sitting next to each other. Jane and AP are sitting across from them. Daria looks even greener. She's not looking out the window, but the others are -- well, Jane glances out occasionally but the rest of the time, she sketches as best as she can by the dim light of the moon coming through the carriage windows. Camera cuts to outside and moves up above the carriage, and we see why Jane's so avidly sketching; Hogwarts looms impressively before them. Cut back to Lynn in the carriage.)

Lynn: (quietly) "What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune that she sends you to prison hither?" (looks up briefly at Daria [sickly-looking], AP [lost] and Jane [not listening], then sighs) Never mind.

(She goes back to looking out the window. A couple seconds later, she reaches down, grabs an air-sickness bag, and holds her hand offscreen, all while keeping her eyes on the window. We hear the sweet sounds of someone having a vomit. Lynn, still not looking, then brings the bag away from Daria.)

Jane: (still sketching) We should have gotten some dramamine.

AP: Or I could have just made some.

Daria/Lynn: (forceful unison) NO!

(AP looks slightly offended, then shrugs. Lynn picks up the bag again and hands it off screen, still not looking. She takes it back again and folds it up neatly before opening a window with her other hand and throwing it out. She then gives an annoyed sigh.)


(Scene: entrance hall. Entire assemblage walking towards the Great Hall, Ron in the lead. They approach a corridor entrance and Ron pokes his head around the corner ... then draws it back sharply, face white.)

Herm: Ron? Whatever's the matter?

Ron: Snape!

(Lynn shushes him.)

Dumbledore: (OS) I'm sure you'll do a better job with the Defense against the Dark Arts class than has been done in the past.

Ron: Oh no! Snape got Defense Against the Dark Arts!

Harry: Ron, are you sure?

Ron: Well? Who else has hair that black? (Harry raises an eyebrow and points to his own head) Oh, fine, but you think I could mistake Snape after all this time?

Daria: This is a problem why?

Harry: You don't know Snape.

Jane: That goes without saying; we just got here...

AP: Is there going to be dinner? I'm starved.

Lynn: Harry, you think we could get the house elves to cook up an AP special pizza?

Harry: What's on it?

Lynn: Tu