Chapter 37: American Classics

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"Wait, so you stand on a knot thing in the ground—"

"The Gordian Knot," Picquery corrected kindly.

"A knot thing," Katherine said, thinking it was a plenty good description, "and then the statutes just light up or move or talk?"

"It doesn't sound as cool when you say it." Picquery wiped his face, still holding his slice of pizza folded in his hand. "It's actually pretty intimidating."

"Just sounds like a game show. Do you have to sing, too?"

"No," he laughed. "No singing necessary, thankfully."

"So, which one picked you?" she asked.

"Well, I had a choice, actually, between two. I chose Thunderbird, though."

"And that's the one that lights up."

"No, the Horned Serpent lights up. The Thunderbird flaps it's wings."

"Look, I just went to normal school," Katherine said. "There were not houses or statues. We showed up, sat for eight hours, and went home."

"Well, we certainly didn't do that." Picquery took a sip of his beer.

"Okay, so the thing flaps around and then the bird people cheer, and you go get your wand?"

"Yes. We don't get a wand until we start school. It used to be a law, but now it's just tradition."

"And do the houses get along?"

"Well enough," he shrugged. "I can't say my grandmother was thrilled when I choose Thunderbird over Horned Serpent like her, but I don't think she was any angrier than she would have been if I went Wampus or Pukwudgie. And my father was a Thunderbird, so she couldn't be too mad."

"Okay," Katherine said exasperatedly, "you cannot tell 'wampus' and 'pukwudgie' are real words."

He just laughed. "I'll admit, they might sound off the wall. But they are real. And there are Pukwudgies who work at Illvermorny still."

"I'm going to need a whole other set of books," Katherine muttered to herself.

"Maybe my next shift I can take you to a bookstore," Picquery laughed, looking at his watch. "But we'd better get back. Grouse is taking over for me tonight."

"Shaking up your times? It's not 6." She drained her beer. It wasn't as good as the dark one she loved at the pub, but it would do.

"So, what's the verdict?" Picquery asked as they walked back to the apartment. "Overrated?"

"No, I suppose not," Katherine said. "Though I still love deep dish."

"Can't compare the two. Apples and oranges."

They went up the elevator to Katherine's floor. She noticed that it was very quiet and none of the doors had any décor or welcome mats. "Does anyone else live here?" she asked.

Picquery opened her door. "Eh, not really." Katherine looked over her glasses at him, waiting for more explanation. "The other doors don't go to anything. The No-Majs can't see the building at all. We just thought you'd be more comfortable if it looked like a real apartment."

Katherine stared at him. "You're so worried I'll blow up that you built a building?"

"No," he said, "apartment buildings are busy. If no one else is supposed to be coming in, it's easy for us to know when someone is here who shouldn't be."

"At least in England I had Diagon Alley," Katherine said, rolling her eyes and throwing her coat on the couch.

"Well, here you have me. And Grouse, who is on her way. Do you want me to have her pick up anything for you? Groceries?"

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