Tickling the Giant Squid and other Grand Adventures

3. Avila

I played with my short green hair as I watched a bunch of kids got 'sorted.' Of course, just because I was watching, didn't necessarily mean that I was paying attention.

My father had nearly died of shock when I showed him my letter (after calming me down enough to get the information out of me, that is). I was worried that he'd kill me for being a witch, considering his job is hunting them down (that and other weird, supposedly mythological stuff). I suppose someone knew enough not to leave my family with nothing but my letter of acceptance to Ilvermorny alone for too long, though, because moments after the whole family had read the letter, a witch from MACUSA had knocked on our door.

She explained everything to my parents and calmed them down about everything. The words that did the trick were, 'The witches you hunt choose to be witches. They worship satan. Your daughter, she was born with magic. It will constantly be in her life, and if she tries to oppress it, it will turn on her and destroy her. The best thing you can do for your daughter is send her to a place where she will learn about her powers, and how to control them."

Of course, this distinction, and the warning wasn't taken to seriously, until the witch mentioned weird things that happened to me - things I couldn't control.

My father, trying to get a full understanding of everything, had asked about other schools. When he'd heard about Hogwarts, he'd asked if I could attend here instead. The witch from MACUSA had been confused (and possibly slightly offended) and asked why.

I knew of course. Because the farther away I was from the hunting, the better. If I was gonna be out for seven years, I would be well and truly out - of the country. It was the only way dad would let me go. I remembered my departure earlier today fondly.

"Have fun there, kiddo." Uncle Sam said, ruffling my hair. "And do good okay?"

"You got it Uncle Sam. And I always have fun. This world has never met a Winchester. This'll be good."

Uncle Sam laughed. "Don't get into too much trouble." I just smiled at him.

"I love you, sweetheart." Mom said, giving me a hug. "You'll do well there. And please, try to make friends. Promise me, you'll make at least one friend." I'd had a hard time making friends at schools in the past, though moving around so much didn't exactly help that situation.

"I promise mom. I'll even have them visit during summer." Mom smiled down at me for a moment, then pulled me into another hug. "Be safe sweetheart."

I smiled at her. "Always."

"You're a witch!" Mary said, pushing mom out of the way. Mary was my big sister, and an exact replica of her namesake, our grandmother. At least, according to dad anyway. "I'm never gonna get over this." Mary shook her head.

"I know. It's so weird." I agreed, shaking my head with her. "To be honest, I don't think dad ever will either. I know he's dealt with weird all his life, but this is just.... weird..er."

"I know." Mary paused. Then she squealed again. "You have naturally occurring magic in you!"

"Alright, alright. Quiet down Mary." Dad said. Mary stepped away, and Dad crouched down in front of me.

"You have your knife set right?" I rolled my eyes. Here we go.

"Yes, Daddy," I sighed.

"Including a silver one?"

"Of course."

"And your guns?"

"Yes."

"And all the proper ammo?"

"Why would I carry empty guns?"

My dad looked me over. "Alright. I get it. I just have to be sure. You packed a training dummy and a target for practice?"

"I don't know where I'm gonna put them, but yes, I managed to fit them in, among everything else. I'll practice, I promise."

"Good. Good. And-" The train blew a warning whistle, cutting him off.

"Dean, honey, she needs to get on the train." Mom said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Alright, kiddo, I guess it's time for you to go. Keep in touch. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's nothing you wouldn't do," I countered him.

"You know what I mean. Don't tell anyone about being a hunter unless it's dire. I love you. Remember that."

"Yes, daddy. I love you too." I hugged him, then picked up my new kitten. It had been a going away present from everyone. We got it at Diagon Alley, along with everything else. She was a grey and white Norwegian Forest Cat, and I'd named her Wendy.

I looked around the busy station as I boarded the obnoxiously red train. This would be one hell of a year.

I was pulled out of my memories when my name was called. "Winchester, Joanna."

I sighed at the use of my full first name but stepped up anyway.

"Hmm... what have we here? An American?" A voice said in my head. I felt it sift through my memories, mostly because my memories started flashing before my eyes.

So this is how it works. I thought. The first memories were of my schooling days - in the non-magical world: the multiple schools, the lack of friends, the bad grades in every subject - except in PE and Art. And an alright History grade.

"Yes, this is how I work," the hat said as he forced memories to pop up. "You're an artsy one. Ravenclaw would be good for that."

You have no idea. I thought. Wait, isn't that the house for intelligent people?

"It is indeed." The hat agreed.

Are they the stuck up kind of intelligent? Or the teach everyone what they don't know because it'll save their lives one day kind of intelligent? Because both are equally bad.

"Ha! A smart alec too! You like art, but that mouth would get you in trouble in Ravenclaw. What about...

More memories popped up - hunting with my family. Sticking together. Rushing at the ghosts, ghouls, and monsters, saving innocent people.

"Well now... that's an awful lot of loyalty your family has - though you specifically aren't so into that, are you?"

Not really. I've always been a bit weird - though I know why now.

"Yes. And I see - your cleverness comes from wanting to survive. It's equal parts clever and cunning. You would succeed in Slytherin. But you're too... brave hearted, save-the-innocent for Slytherin - plus you're a muggle born. So you're definitely a GRYFFINDOR!" Somehow, my eardrums weren't busted from the hat's shout.

The hat was removed from my head, as a table in the middle started cheering politely. Quietly, I found a seat at my table.

"So, Joanna-"

"I prefer my middle name, Avila." I cut off the kid next to me. He stared at me for a moment. I decided my accent had caught him by surprise.

"Oh. Okay. Well, my name's-"

"Don't care." I cut him off again. It might have been rude, but I was hungry, and he was clearly several years above me. I wanted to get to know someone closer to my age.

He seemed to get the message.