A heavy fog lay over the crest of Mount Greylock. It was said that it dissuaded curious no-maj hikers from poking around school lands, but we all knew there to be protective charms carried in the mist. It was the magic that shrouded Ilvermorny from the eyes of anyone outside the world of magic. Still, as our carriages carried further up the winding, steep paths of the mountain, the fog lifted, welcoming us into school grounds.
I felt my heart lift to my throat (figuratively, of course) as the shadow of Ilvermorny became visible in the distance. We had already passed the greenhouses and farm which were situated lower on the mountain, but seeing the school was like the final push that provoked the sparks of excitement in me. I had attended the last five years, going on my sixth, and yet I never lost the giddy anticipation that came with each new year.
"Have you seen your schedule yet?" The voice of my friend, Sloane, interrupted my childlike wonder at the sight. I tore my gaze from the window of the carriage and looked at her. She didn't bother making eye contact in conversation, instead holding out one hand in front of her and carefully inspecting her nails.
"Honestly, as soon as I got mine I was rushing onto the carriage. Thanks for reminding me, though." I said, digging through my bag and finding the envelope. First through fifth years had to take certain required classes which little room for elected courses. However, in the last two years of a student's schooling, they chose "career classes"- clusters that focused on various magical career paths. It was similar to how no-maj students would pick majors in college, only they would be upwards of eighteen. We were expected to have solid plans by sixteen.
I had chosen to pursue magizoology- that is, the study of magical creatures. Specifically I had interest in preservation and conservation of magical species, and I tore open the envelope with surprisingly shaky hands. I had little other drive in life, and I had put no thought into a plan B if I didn't get scheduled as I hoped. I skimmed the letter. The usual welcomes, rules, all the same things as I'd been reading the past few years. Something at the end caught my eye.
Signed, Imogen Abernathy
Headmistress, Ilvermorny School of
Witchcraft & Wizardry
I squinted at the flowery script, the elegant curve of the letters. Troubled, I looked up at Sloane. "We got a new headmaster?" I asked, one eyebrow arched in confusion. Headmaster Bunbury had been leading the school for forty five years- he had been headmaster when my parents attended. Sloane laughed, but closed her mouth when she caught sight of my seriousness."You didn't know? Oh, Thea, you can be such a Dorcus sometimes!" She said, teasing me before her expression darkened. Her tone dropped and Sloane leaned in secretively. "Bunbury died over the summer. I thought you would've heard." She whispered.
I frowned, small creases forming as my brows knitted in confusion. Bunbury had been seventy years old- well past the age of retirement for many no-majs, but wizards have always been known to live longer. Why, the famous former Headmaster of the wizarding school Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, was well over 100 when he passed, and if not for the circumstances (which we learned about extensively in school) he could've lived longer yet. Could it be Bunbury had been killed? It didn't make sense. Things had been peaceful for so long. We hadn't dealt with the great wizarding war. "How, though?" I asked Sloane after a considerable pause. She leaned back again, shrugging.
"I don't know. Nobody I've talked to seems to know, either." She said. I considered this. Sloane was charismatic, as was she beautiful with long black curls and chocolate eyes. She was outgoing and constantly gossiping, her friend group stretched over all four houses. Undoubtedly, she had discussed this with many. If no one she talked to knew anything, I couldn't imagine any student knowing.
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Darkfell | a tale in ilvermorny
FanfictionDarkness has fallen over the great school of Ilvermorny. A mysterious and powerful killer is at large, leaving even the most skilled witches or wizards at the mercy of it's deadly grip. Thea Ford is entering her sixth year at the wizarding school...