The Other Witches

3. I'm Ready

Well, that's my luggage. A large grey suitcase, battered and worn, holds my clothing. My violin case stands upright, leaning against the old blanket on my bed. That's everything I have that's worth anything.

I'm so excited and anxious and nervous and curious and....

ready. Completely and totally ready.

There's a loud cracking noise from downstairs, then a thump. I race down the stairs and peer out the window to see a dozen men and women, not including my four friends, standing on the lawn. These must be the "messengers" that McGonagall mentioned. I hurry back upstairs and bring my luggage down, finally opening the door for them.

A tall, dark-haired witch stands at the front of the group. She turns as I close the front door.

"You are Miss Glasswater?"

"Yeah. Um, yes, that's me."

"Follow me, please," she says as she sets off at a long-strided walk toward a wooded area not far from my house.

"Hey Liza," Ella whispers in my ear. "Feeling okay?"

"Definitely more than okay," I reply.

We stop walking in a small clearing in the woods, and I almost bump into the guy in front of me, he stopped so abruptly. The witch produces a small handbag from her pocket. "Your bags," she says simply. I drag my cases over to her, where she lifts them up and stuffs them into the handbag. Cool.

She then reaches into the bag and her arm disappears. After fishing around for a bit, her arm returns with a large broomstick. She repeats this process over and over, until there enough brooms for all the adults. Then she pulls out five more.

"Don't worry," she says airily. "Flying's a breeze, if you're not afraid of heights."

"Uh, being in high places is not one of my strong points," Lucy says.

"Well, it's the only way we can get to London in a short time. Emphasis on the only way."

Hesitantly, Lucy takes a broom. The woman hands the other brooms to the rest of us and mounts hers.

"Uh, excuse me," I ask quickly, "what's your name?"

"Henson," she replies. "Irabelle Henson."

With that, she kicks off the ground and shoots skyward. The others do the same, until the five of us are left standing in the clearing. We look around uncertainly at one another, until Von mounts her broom and says, "Well, we don't want to lose them. SEE YA!" zooming off into the air.

How inspiring.

I mount next. The moment I kick off the ground, I feel , well, right. The broom flies faster than I have ever traveled before. The wind pulls out my loose ponytail and gusts through my hair.

Ella and Lauren rise into the air next. Ella is laughing and Lauren looks unsure of whether she can trust the broomstick. They both speed past towards the riders in the distance.

"Lucy?" I call down, " We have to go."

Finally Lucy appears above the clearing and flies over to me. "Okay. I've gotten this far, so going to London will be as easy as can be."

We soar faster than the birds, trying to catch up with the group of wizards and witches ahead of us. Lucy still seems uncomfortable, but she's not saying anything about it.

"Something tells me that this is going to take a while," she shouts over the wind.

"I agree completely!" I yell back.

And it does. About five hours, if my estimations are correct. But when we finally touch down in a London alleyway, I'm not tired at all. I feel more awake, in fact. Something about flying on a broom for the first time. It's invigorating. Lucy, on the other hand, doesn't seem to think so.

After Henson (that's what she requested we call her) stows the brooms in her bag, she leads us out into the afternoon sun. Some of the witches and wizards stay in the alley and do something that I recognize as Disapparating. The rest follow us to a small pub with a dusty sign that reads......the Leaky Cauldron!

The moment we enter the building, everyone goes silent and starts to stare at us. Then a low muttering begins as we walk carefully through the pub. It's so soft that whole sentences are indistinguishable, but I manage to catch a few snippets.

"...girls from America. They could be..."

"...prophecy about transcending separation...."

"...but it's them, I'm sure...."

Henson shuts the door to the back room and restores the silence. She leads us through the kitchens and to a small enclosed area at the back of the building. She approaches the brick wall and pulls out her wand; a long, graceful piece of dark wood. She taps the bricks in a pattern and steps backward towards us. She motions for the witches and wizards to go back into the pub.

Then the bricks start to move.

Shifting. turning, spitting a powder of mortar, the bricks take the form of a simple archway, revealing on the other side of it the most wonderful sight I've ever laid my eyes on.

"Girls," Henson says, "welcome to Diagon Alley."

Hey fellow wattpandas! I hope this is more satisfying than the previous chapters that I've written so far. I would love to hear your thoughts on my story! Sorry about the slow updates, they're mostly delayed by school starting and all that jazz. I promise I will update at least once a week!

-RedV