Ishtar O’Connor always admired Nymphadora Tonks.
She had admired her from the first day they’d met. Ishtar, wandering aimlessly with her Muggle father trailing behind her, was beginning to wonder if the whole Hogwarts thing was a joke when Nymphadora – who, even then, insisted on being called Tonks – had shown her the way into Platform 9 ¾.
At the time, Tonk’s hair was long and blonde, her eyes blue. There was a smattering of cute looking freckles across face. Ishtar had not noticed Tonks for her good looks, but for the owl perched in a cage in her trolley. She was doubly pleased when she saw the girl pushing the towering trolley was already wearing the long black robes and pointed hat of a Hogwarts student. Even at age eleven, Nymphadora Tonks had a flair for attracting attention.
Ishtar was very proud of her own owl and, even grateful as she was to have found a classmate, could not help but feel smug that her own owl was bigger, prettier and probably more expensive than the other girl’s. Despite this, she was not above shouting, “hey, wait!” and running after the girl, her father pushing the trolley behind her.
Tonks turned to look back, just before sliding into the barrier that divided platforms nine and ten. She had waved and gestured that Ishtar follow her. Ishtar closed her eyes and ran headlong into the brick wall, bracing herself for impact. She did not collide into a brick wall, but into the blonde haired, blue eyed girl she’d seen only moments ago.
Only, she was no longer blonde haired or blue eyed. Now she had curly chestnut hair and brown eyes. It was undeniably her, though. Her face was still the same heart shape as it had been three minutes ago. (Before this, Isthar had never known what people meant when they described people has having a “heart shaped face,” but now she did.) She looked a little cross. Ishtar sat on the ground, blinking up at the girl she’d knocked over.
“Sorry” Ishtar started to say, but the girl was already reaching down to help her up. She wondered if all magical people could change their hair color like that. “I didn’t think I’d actually make it –”
“Through the barrier,” the girl finished for her. “Mum says that happens to some Muggle born students every year,” she said with an almost dignified nod.
“Muggle?” Ishtar asked, scratching her head. It was almost comical, this gesture; pure naivety.
“Non magical,” the girl explained, solemnly, her hands on her hips. “Not like us.”
“I’m not Muggle born, then!” Ishtar insisted, crossing her arms and frowning. “Me mum was a witch, even if my dad’s a – a – a Muggle.”
“He won’t be able to get in, you know,” the other girl said solemnly “if he’s a Muggle. You gotta be with him, or the barrier won’t open. I’ll wait here.”
It was a strange feeling, passing between platforms. The difficult part was wondering if you were going to smash into a brick wall instead of slide through a magical barrier. Ishtar worried that, with her Muggle father by her side, the barrier wouldn’t open. To her immense relief, it did. She also wondered whether or not the girl really would wait for her on the other side, but to her relief, she did.
“Thanks for waiting,” Ishtar said, offering her hand. “Ishtar O’Connor.”
The girl accepted the offered hand and shook it vigorously. “Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks, but don’t call my Nymphadora.”
Ishtar was later thrilled to find out about nymphs. She liked that both Tonks and her had names from ancient cultures. It was exciting; they were like twins, in a way.
“Erm, then what should I call you?” Ishtar bit her lip and smoothed her hair again.
“Tonks, of course,” said Tonks, as though this should be obvious.
She was mercifully saved from any further embarrassment by Tonks’s mother swooping in and insisting they get on the train, although it was still only quarter ‘til. They found an empty compartment, the second to last one. There were plenty of other compartments, but Tonks wanted that one, and Ishtar followed.
“The witch with the candies is in the last one,” explained Tonks as her mother and father hauled her trunk onto the train for her. Ishtar didn’t think it was nice to call people a witch, even if they were one. “That’s what Mum told me on the way here.”
Ishtar nodded and lost concentration. Her own trunk landed painfully on her toe. She yelped and jumped back, barely managing to catch her owl cage before it clattered to the ground. Her father pushed the trunk the rest of the way onto the train and into the luggage rack for her.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, hugging his middle. Ishtar was going to miss her father far more than she would ever admit.
Tonks, however, did not seem so worried. She was cheerfully waving to her mother and father, talking about them sending her sweets regularly, the upper half of her body hanging out of the train window.
Ishtar quickly let go of her father, hoping Tonks hadn’t noticed. She wanted very badly to impress her new friend. She curled her finger, gesturing for her father to come down to her level. “See you, Daddy,” she whispered into his ear, and a little louder, “don’t forget to let Guinevere in when I send you a letter.”
“I won’t, honeypie,” said her father, patting her on the head. Ishtar hoped that Tonks hadn’t heard that, either.
“Don’t leave ‘til the train leaves,” Ishtar said, very quietly, once she was sure that Tonks was too engrossed in her conversation with her parents. They were discussing which classes had been her mother’s favorite.
“Of course not,” he smiled, waved, and stepped off the train and back onto the platform, which was becoming more and more crowded. Ishtar plopped down in the seat Tonk’s wasn’t standing in, and watched her father. Once, he disappeared behind a tall, balding man who was surrounded by his entirely red-haired family. Ishtar had always wanted red hair, she thought it was pretty and feminine and mysterious. Instead, her hair was a mousey ash blonde, which she did not consider at all exciting or attractive.
Time was ticking on, and the carriages were slowly filling up. Ishtar hoped that nobody else would get in their carriage, but one of the red haired boys did. His brother had sauntered off as soon as their parents weren’t looking, leaving him to find a carriage all by himself.
“Pardon?” he asked, sticking his head in through the door as though afraid to come all of the way in without permission. “Mind if I sit here?”
Before Ishtar could decide what to say – “no,” because she wanted to be alone with her new friend, or “yes,” so that she would seem nicer – Tonks was already saying “yes, of course,” and moving her owl cage out of the way.
“Charlie Weasley,” he said, sitting down beside Tonks.
“I’ve heard about you,” Tonks told him. Her feet didn’t quite reach the floor when she sat, so instead she swung them back and forth. Ishtar imitated her. “Well, about your family. Mum says you’re all blood traitors.”
Charlie frowned. Ishtar didn’t know what Tonks meant by blood traitors, but she knew what a traitor was and it wasn’t good. She eyed Charlie suspiciously.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Tonks said, crossing her arms. “Grandmum says the same thing about Mummy,” she explained, “’cos she married a Muggle.”
“Whose your mum, then?” asked Charlie, who had stopped frowning now that he knew Tonks wasn’t making fun of him.
“Andromeda Tonks,” said Tonks. She had a manner of speaking that, to Ishtar, implied that she thought people should know all of this already.
“What was her name before that?” Charlie asked. “Obviously, she changed her name when she got married,” he added. “My mum’s old name is Prewett.” He sounded very pleased with himself for remembering this.
“Black,” said Tonks. Charlie seemed to suddenly understand. His eyes widened, and then he nodded.
Ishtar felt very left out. “My mum’s maiden name was Prince,” she butted in. “Like royalty.”
She had only very recently learned this. It was something she asked her father often, and then forgot, and then asked again when it occurred to her that she didn’t know it. She asked her father many questions about her mother, who had died when she was a little girl.
“What’s your name?” Charlie asked.
“Ishtar O’Connor,” she said, proudly. Ishtar liked her name, even if it did sound funny. She stuck nose in the air a little bit and preened. Her father had explained that Isthar was another name for Venus. Ishtar thought he meant like the planet, but he explained he was talking about the goddess of love. Ishtar thought that was mushy, but she was proud to share a name with a goddess, so she didn’t mind much.
“S’a funny name,” said Charlie.
“S’not as funny as Nymphadora,” Ishtar giggled, pointing at Tonks, who frowned.
“I told you not to call me that!” Tonks said, folding her arms. “It’s not a funny name, it’s a stupid name and I hate it. Call me Tonks,” she glowered at both of them, “or else,” she drew her wand across her throat, so they would know exactly what would happen if they didn’t obey.
Ishtar gulped and nodded. She looked curiously at Tonks’ wand. It was shorter and stubbier Ishtar’s, and the wood was lighter, too. Charlie was pulling his own wand out of his coat, so Ishtar dug hers out of her trunk rather unceremoniously, trying not to let Tonks see how messy it was inside.
They were all eager to show off their new wands, but for different reasons. Tonks had always wanted her own wand, and was just now permitted to get one. Charlie was pleased because his elder brother, Bill, had to use their father’s old one, but he, Charlie, got a brand new one. Ishtar got her mother’s old one, which she thought was just the most wonderful thing.
“What kind is yours?” asked Ishtar, in an attempt to be polite. She was bursting to talk about her wand, but she didn’t want to seem like she was bragging.
“Mine’s pine,” Tonks said, spinning it in her fingers. “Seven and a half inches long. There’s a dragon heartstring in it.”
Charlie nodded appreciatively. “Me mum’s wand has a dragon heartstring in it. Mine’s a unicorn tail hair, though.” He waved it a little, and red and gold sparks shot out of it. Ishtar flinched, afraid the sparks might be hot, like fireworks.
“What kind of wood is it?” Ishtar asked, genuinely curious. She hadn’t seen Olivander’s and had no way of knowing the sheer number of possible wand combinations.
“Rowan,” he said, and he seemed proud. “Mum says rowan is a strong wood. I’m glad I didn’t get an elder wand,” he added “You know what they say about those.”
“No I don’t,” Ishtar was practically on the edge of her seat. She was always eager to know more about the world that her mother had grown up in. “What do they say?”
“Elder wand, never prosper,” recited Tonks and Charlie in unison.
“It’s a bad sign,” explained Tonks. “Mum said that there was a girl in her house who had an elder wand, and she caught the examiner on fire during her Charms O.W.L.”
Ishtar blinked and nodded, very glad that her mother hadn’t had an elder wand, or she would’ve been unlucky, too. “Mine’s ash,” she said, holding it up for them to see. “Dad said he doesn’t know what’s in it, though. Mum never told him.”
“Where is your mum?” Charlie wanted to know.
“Dead,” said Ishtar, simply. “It’s her wand,” she added, in case her new friends hadn’t made the connection.
Neither of them seemed to know what to say to that. Charlie couldn’t imagine life without his formidable mother. The silence stretched out, becoming increasingly awkward. Charlie coughed, but it was Tonks who started talking again.
“I bet Mr. Ollivander knows. He’s the wand maker in Diagon Alley,” she explained. “He knows everything. He remembered what my Mum’s wand was, even.”
“How do you get to Diagon Alley?” asked Ishtar, curiously. “Dad and I couldn’t find it. We found the Leaky Cauldron, but we the only door we could find was the one we came in.”
“It’s not through a door,” said Charlie, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve got to tap the brick three times with your wand.”
“Well, there were a lot of bricks,” Ishtar said, a little defensively. She crossed her arms.
“How’d you get your school things, then?” asked Tonks, who was still fiddling with her wand. Ishtar tried to copy the way she was twirling it, but succeeded only in making some purple sparks fly from the tip.
“Mail order,” said Ishtar with a shrug. “We picked up the newspaper and read the classifieds.” She said this with the same tone Charlie had used. What else were they supposed to do?
“How’d you get your owl, then?” asked Charlie. “You would’ve needed an owl for a mail order.” He paused. “That is your owl, isn’t it?”
“Guinevere is mine,” said Ishtar, who reached out to poke the sleeping owl with her wand. It opened one eye, hooted grumpily, and tucked its head back below its wing. “We got her from a place near where we live. There are a couple of magical shops nearby.”
This must have been an acceptable answer, because both Tonks and Charlie nodded. Their conversation strayed onto the subject of pets.
“It isn’t fair,” Charlie was saying. “Bill got to take our rat, Scabbers. I don’t get to take anything.” He scuffed his trainer on the floor. “I wanted an owl, but they’re really expensive.” He looked at Tonks’ and Ishtar’s owls with envy.
Tonks looked fondly at her own owl. It was very small. Ishtar had to admit that it was cute, even if it wasn’t as impressive as her own snowy white one. It was fluffy and soft looking, and Ishtar wanted to pet it.
“You can use mine when I’m not,” she offered Charlie, who smiled.
“Nah,” he said, “but thanks. Mum and Dad’ll probably send Errol with letters for me and Bill, an’ then we can send our letters back together.”
“Just ask,” said Tonks. Ishtar liked how friendly she was, and wondered if Tonks would have offered to let her borrow her owl if she hadn’t already had one. She certainly hoped so.
They were interrupted by the arrival of the witch with the sweets that Tonks had told her about earlier. There were all sorts of sweets that Ishtar had never even heard of before, so she bought four of each: one for Tonks, one for Charlie (who mumbled something about having a sandwich), and two for herself. She had to admit that she was a little disappointed by the lack of Cadbury bars, so she made a mental note to ask her father to mail her some.
“This is why I wanted to sit back here,” said Tonks. “Mum says that by the time she gets all of the way to the front, she’s usually out of chocolate frogs, ‘cause everyone wants the cards.”
“Cards?” Ishtar was going to ask, but she was already busily unwrapping one and the card fluttered into her lap. She picked it up. It reminded her of the trading cards her friend Lynn’s brother had, only it was shaped like a pentagon instead of a rectangle. She examined it closely. There was a picture of a woman with long hair, holding a bright red ball.
“Who’ve you got?” asked Charlie, his mouth half full of chocolate frog. “I got Merlin. Again. I always get Merlin.”
“Joceline Wadcock,” said Ishtar, who held up the card to show him. Charlie nodded appreciatively.
“That one’s really rare,” Tonks told her. “So hold on to it and don’t trade it for anybody.”
Ishtar nodded and tucked it safely away. Tonks put hers into her trunk, pleased at having finally found Glanmore Peakes, slayer of the Sea Serpent. Charlie handed her the Merlin card he’d gotten, and Ishtar stuck that in her pocket with Joceline.
Chocolate, Ishtar was used to. Jelly beans were no mystery to her. Berttie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, however, were quite extraordinary. Tonks and Charlie knew which ones to avoid, and it became a game to see if she could tell which ones not to eat. At first, she thought that every flavor was an exaggeration; at least, she did until she got a mud flavored one.
“Blech!” Ishtar coughed and spat and took a long, grateful swig of pumpkin juice from what remained of Tonks’ bottle. The other two laughed at her, and before long, she was laughing, too.
“At least you didn’t get earwax,” Charlie consoled her.
“Or vomit,” suggested Tonks. “That one’s really gross.”
After that, Ishtar stuck to more familiar treats and gave the remaining bag of jellybeans to Charlie, who picked through them carefully and casually flicked offending ones out the open window.
It didn’t seem like long until it was starting to get dark. They were discussing the Hogwarts houses as the sun went down.
“I’m going to be in Gryffindor,” announced Charlie. “My whole family is.”
“You can’t chose,” said Tonks. “You might end up in Slytherin.”
“Nu-uh!” Charlie crossed his arms. “If anyone’s gonna end up in Slytherin, it’s gonna be you. Didn’t you say your Mum was?”
“I don’t care,” said Tonks, crossing her own arms and sticking her nose up in the air. “I don’t care what house I’m in.”
Ishtar said nothing. She wondered what was so bad about Slytherin that Charlie wouldn’t want to be in it. Her mother had been in Slytherin, like Tonks’ mother. Ishtar wondered if they’d known each other. She supposed she could understand why he’d want to be where his family had been, though. She also wondered what house her father would have been in, if he’d been magical.
“My Mum was in Slytherin, too,” Ishtar said, wondering if that would make Tonks less angry. “We’ve got a photo of her; she’s got a big S on her robes. I looked it up in Hogwarts: A History, and it’s the Slytherin crest.”
Before today, Ishtar had thought that the old photos of her mother were unique in that they moved. Eva O’Conner, nee Prince, smiled and waved and blew kisses from the moving photographs. They were like very short silent movies. She was a little let down when the woman on her chocolate frog card had thrown the bright red ball around. It was disappointing to find out that her mothers photos were just like all of the photos in the wizarding world.
When neither of them said anything, Ishtar continued, suddenly a little worried. “How do we get the patches like that?” she aked.
“You won’t need them ‘til second year,” explained Charlie. “Mum just sewed on Bill’s this summer.”
Ishtar was relieved. She felt that there was a lot that she didn’t know that Charlie and Tonks did. She was glad she met them, though, so they could teach her these things.
Suddenly, a voice buzzed over an unseen intercom, announcing that they were fifteen minutes from Hogsmeade station, and would all students please gather their belongings but leave them on the train.
Perhaps Ishtar should have been shy about it, what with Charlie there and all, but she simply dug out a robe and pulled it on over her Muggle clothing, and then artfully wriggled out of her leggings and t-shirt. Charlie had gone to the loo to change earlier, but Isthar hadn’t even thought of it until now. She tucked her two chocolate frog cards into her diary, beside the photos of her mother. She carefully put that back into her trunk along with the rest of her things.
“What about Guinevere?” she asked, nervously. Guinevere was waking up now that the sun had gone down, and was shifting restlessly from foot to foot.
“Leaver her too, I think,” said Charlie. “You can’t really take her to the sorting, can you?”
“Right, right,” said Ishtar, a little worried about leaving her new pet on the train. She had a Muggle friend whose dog had died after being left in a car for too long.
The train slowed to a stop, and there was a long, low whistle. Students bounded out of the carriages, all of the older ones already chatting amicably with their old school friends, while the first years stuck close to the few people they may have befriended. Bill, Charlie’s older brother, made his way up the train against the crowds.
“You three go with Hagrid,” he explained as they stepped onto the platform.
Charlie said “I know, Bill,” and Ishtar said “Who?” but Bill had already disappeared into the crowd again.
“Firs’ years,” boomed a voice above the crowds. “Firs’ years, come wi’ me. Firs’ years.”
Ishtar had to assume that was Hagrid. He was huge, the biggest person that Ishtar had ever seen. He had to have been twice as tall as her father, and four times as wide. He looked a little scary, but Charlie and Tonks didn’t look afraid, so Ishtar said nothing and swallowed her fear as she followed them.
He lead them down to a large lake that glimmered in the moonlight. There were little boats all along the shoreline. “Three to a boat,” he said, although he took up an entire boat to himself. Ishtar was glad that he didn’t have room for another; she doubted any of her fellow first years would want to get so close to a giant, for that was what she decided he must have been. She was only half right.
The three of them clambered into one of the little boats, though Tonks tripped as she got in, making it wobble a little. She muttered an apology and made a point of sitting very, very still.
The castle was the most magnificent thing Ishtar had ever seen. It looked like something out a storybook. Not one of those childish princess movies she liked to watch with her father, but like the castles in the illustrated Brothers Grimm books that he read to her at night. Ishtar realized that she was going to miss her father reading to her at night, although he’d let her take the book with her. She gaped openly at the castle, thoughts of her father momentarily pushed aside. She would have been embarrassed, if Tonks weren’t staring up with similar awe and Charlie’s mouth wasn’t hanging open like that.
Upon running around on the other side of the lake, they were greeted by a stern looking woman who ushered them into the entrance hall. She straightened Tonks’ hat as she walked by.
“The sorting will begin shortly,” she explained, but that was all she said.
Ishtar would have been worried if Tonks hadn’t explained how it worked to her and Charlie, who’d heard from his brother that you had to win a duel to be sorted, and that losers got put in Hufflepuff of Slytherin. She crossed her fingers as they were lead in to the Great Hall, hoping they would all be in the same house. She wouldn’t mind being in a different house than her mother if it meant getting to be with her new friends, but she really did want to be in Slytherin.
The first years liked up against the wall, every one of them very aware that the entire hall was watching them. Ishtar was glad that she never really got stage fright, even during all of those ballet performances as a little girl.
Professor McGonagall, the same woman who’d signed the first letter from Hogwarts, placed a tattered hat on a three legged stool in the front of the hall. To Ishtar’s surprise, it broke into song. Ishtar never could remember the exact words that the Sorting Hat sang that year, she was too shocked by the fact that it could sing at all to pay much attention to what it was singing. When the hat fell silent again, the professor began reading names, starting with “Aafjes, Igne.”
It seemed to take forever and a day for her to get to “O’Connor, Ishtar.”
By that point, Ishtar knew what to do. She went to the stool and sat carefully, placing the battered old hat on her head.
Hm, it said, or thought, or whatever. Very ambitious, you are, it told her. You want to make your mother proud, good girl. In that case, I think that the best place for you is, and it bellowed “SLYTHERIN!”
Ishtar’s ears rang. She placed the hat back onto the stool and headed off to the green and silver table, where everyone was clapping tremendously. She took a seat beside a friendly looking older girl, leaving room for two in the hopes that Charlie and Tonks would be with her, too. She worried that Charlie might go to Gryffindor, like his parents, but Tonks had said that her mother had been in Slytherin. Maybe all families went to the same houses as each other. Ishtar certainly hoped so.
It was not long until McGonagall got to “Tonks, Nymphadora.”
Ishtar imagined the look on Tonks face at being called by her proper name and laughed. The hat seemed to take an agonizingly long time to decide, while Ishtar sat with her fingers crossed tightly under the table. Please, oh please, oh please, she thought wildly.
Then, suddenly, the hat shouted “HUFFLEPUFF!” and the black and yellow covered table beside them erupted into cheers. Tonks took a seat close to Ishtar, and waved at her a little sadly. They both shrugged. There was nothing they could do about it now.
Ishtar had one last hope of being with someone she knew. If Tonks hadn’t gone into Slytherin like her mother, maybe Charlie wouldn’t go into Gryffindor like his family. No such luck, though. He jogged up to his brother, who had even saved a seat for him. Ishtar got up to wave, but one of the girls nearby shook her head, so she sat back down and settled for making eye contact with him across the room and shrugging. He shrugged back. They’d been friends for such a short time, and now they were already separated.
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known issues: Ishtar doesn't react strongly enough to Tonks' ability to shape-shift, but I'm planning on addressing this in the next section.
^^
It was kind of hard for me to review the work of a writer who is better and more experienced than me, but I tried my best and I hope I haven't disapointed you...
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