It was finally over. The terrorizing war and the terrible schemes were all over. Moreover, the prophecy was fulfilled.

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.*

The Dark Lord was dead. Voldemort was gone for sure now, but not without payments. Many lives were lost… one of them being Albus Dumbledore.

“It has been such a long year,” Minerva McGonagall sighed as she sat at her desk of Hogwarts in the Headmaster’s office. She was the new Headmistress now, which was a big responsibility on her shoulders. Everyone hoped she would be just like Albus Dumbledore, if not better.

She looked much younger now with all the stress gone from her mind. There is nothing left to fear, she thought. “And I thought it was never going to end,” she voiced out loud. The students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would not have believed this, but for a second it looked as if Minerva McGonagall had actually smiled to herself!

Dumbledore chuckled from his portrait, which hung on the wall amongst all the previous Hogwarts Headmasters.

“I would rather disagree on that with you Minerva. I knew this had an end,” he assured, his blue eyes twinkling.

Minerva stared at the previous headmaster. “Are you trying to tell me that you knew all along that Harry was going to succeed? T-that this was all going to be over?” Minerva asked with a rather shocked and hurt look on her face that clearly stated, “You could have spared me the tension by telling me earlier!”

Dumbledore looked at her through his half moon spectacles, and replied in a serious tone, “Oh no Minerva, definitely not! I, of course, never knew that. But, I knew there was an end, as there was a win and a defeat for sure. I had faith in Harry of course… but apparently Tom was not giving up either, according to Professor Snape �“”

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Professor McGonagall said, recovering from her shocked state.

The oak doors opened and a man entered. He was shallow faced, with shoulder length hair that was parted in curtains around his face. He had a hooked nose, and had black eyes. Professor Snape entered, as if summoned by his name.

“You called, Minerva?’ he asked in a silky voice.

“Ah... yes, Severus. As you are well aware, our students will be joining us soon in a new year this September. Apparently, due to circumstances, many have decided to repeat and actually finish their seventh year and their N.E.W.T. s, so our seventh year students will be joining us, instead of graduating. Would you be kind enough to inform this to rest of the professors and staff?”

“Of course, Professor.” With that, he spun around to leave.

“I hope you have done the deed I asked you to do, Severus?” Dumbledore asked from his portrait.

“Excuse me?” Snape asked turning, with a confused look on his face. Then suddenly, as it hit him, he said awkwardly, “Er… yes, Dumbledore. The Ministry has finally agreed. But I had to make other changes as well, as the death-eaters… ah… I mean people are quite confused why this sudden change is being made after so many years of settlement. So, I thought of not making it too obvious.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said. Snape nodded and left the office.

“Does that mean she is coming?” Minerva inquired soon after Snape had left.

“We hope so Minerva…we hope so.” Dumbledore said dreamily, as if calculating something in the far future.

“Why did you hide it for so many years, Albus? The child would have a terrible truth to face now…I doubt whether she will be able to handle it at this stage. Do you think it was fair?”

“No, Minerva. I do not think it was fair at all. But I had to do what I did. I had to take her away. She was in grave danger and Voldemort would not have let her live. You know what he did that night…” Dumbledore’s thoughtful face looked a hundred years older as he recalled that fateful night

Minerva sighed. “I guess you are right, Albus. It was for her best.”

Dumbledore did not reply. The memories of that little girl flashed in his mind. She had been only one year old then. Her head full of jet black curls, pure innocence reflecting in her hazel eyes. She had fair, pale skin, with a faint blush on her cheeks. Just like her father, they had said. But her smile was definitely her mother’s. She was unaware of the world’s happenings, unaware of You-Know-Who, his terror, and the danger she was in.

Well, at least the boy will find a family now, Dumbledore thought. No more loneliness for him. I hope he will be happy with who he finds after all this suffering.

“GINOSUS! GINOSUS! GO GINOSUS!”

“ANATINUS! ANATINUS!”

Everyone in the crowd cheered for their own house’s Quidditch team. The deafening roars of the spectators made my eardrums throb, but I didn’t mind at all. I loved every minute of it.

I tilted the broom’s handle up sharply and soared skywards, ducking and swiftly taking turns around the bookshelves all around me. I concentrated on only one thing. All the thunderous cheering in the background seemed faint right now, like murmurs.

“I’m gonna get you, Quaffle, just watch me!” I hissed through gritted teeth. I was frustrated beyond relief �“ actually mad would probably be the right word.

I accelerated on the broom, searching for the big, red ball. My black hair flew into my eyes, but I carelessly brushed them away. I had no time to stop and whine about it.

“We have to win this game. We just have to…ouch! Stupid bloody Snitch… somebody get that!” I shouted back as the little golden ball ricocheted off my forehead. Where was the Merlin-damned Seeker when you needed him?

I weaved in between the bookshelves; the Quaffle would definitely be there. If I could only get it! Snitches, brooms and Bludgers zoomed by me. Books were flying everywhere, their yellowing pages fluttering in the wind. I could hardly see the floor, but I didn’t have time to notice any of these things. I was concentrating on my one last goal, as if getting the Quaffle was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Tash! Tash!” shouted a voice. I whipped around, looking everywhere to find the source of the voice. It sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t see anyone.

“Tash, get up!” echoed the voice again, louder and closer this time. I swerved the other way on my broom and suddenly, out of nowhere, a bright red Quaffle materialized in front of my eyes.

“Tash, wake up for heaven’s sake!” the ball said.

I reached out. “Almost there!” I mumbled. There was the stupid red ball, dancing in front of my eyes, as if daring me to lunge at it.

The ball was gone again, but I was quicker. I rocketed upwards, tailing the Quaffle. I stretched out when I felt I was close enough… when suddenly a book appeared out of nowhere in front of me, stopping me dead in my tracks.

“NO!” I yelled, frustrated. Why the hell did it have to come now? “It’s mine!”

I sprung forwards, my hands finally managing to close around the Quaffle. I grabbed it�“ hard.

“You’re not getting away this time!” I said with a grin. I felt euphoric; all the hard work was worthwhile. I, Natasha Osborne, had finally caught that elusive Quaffle.

“NATASHA! Get off, you berk!” the voice screamed. It seemed pretty ticked off.

All hopes of sleep were abandoned when a hand smacked me across the face. I opened my eyes immediately, but my blurry just-woke-up vision kept me from being able to see clearly. I could feel something struggling in my hands, and after blinking away the sleep a bit I noticed that it was not a Quaffle but a head. I let go immediately.

“Tasha, you bloody idiot! What’s your problem!” asked the girl whose head I’d been holding agitatedly as she fixed her slightly messed-up blonde hair.

I was still half asleep, so I couldn’t quite tell who it was. Someone with blonde hair…she was pretty and tall as well. Her eyes were a strange shade of blueish green, and they were glaring at me in a way that was all too familiar.

Realization dawned on me. Oh, Merlin… I sat up and a guilty smile spread across my face. I tucked a few strands of my hair behind my ears and said sheepishly, “Oops! Sorry, Bri. I was dreaming.”

My best friend glared at me. This was a look that could send shivers down one’s back - Bri was infamous for it. However, having been on the receiving end of this look since forever, I was used to it. For such a pretty girl, Briallen Warwick could still be a little jerk. Not that I minded of course. She was my best friend, after all.

I jumped out of bed, yawned and stretched. “I thought you were a Quaffle,” I said apologetically.

“A Quaffle?” Bri asked skeptically, “So I'm a Quaffle now, am I? Can your dreams get any weirder?”

“Hopefully, no,” I replied. “I was playing Quidditch against the library! Books were zooming all over. I wonder why I saw that…the library and books, I mean. Hmm…”

“Maybe I know,” she said, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows and folding her arms in front of her chest. “It’s because you forgot to return your library book, again. And Madam Studd was looking for you all over school. And as always, I had to search for it and return it with your sincere apologies, while you dreamed of going to the library, like the Bludger you are.”

Merlin, not again. Madam Studd already had grudge against me; I’d be dead the next time she saw me in her perfect library. This was the third time I’d forgotten to return a book this month.

“I’m sorry, Bri,” I said, sighing and deciding not to tell her that calling me a Bludger was practically a compliment. Bri hated Quidditch with a passion. “I…I forgot. I can’t help it, I’m just…forgetful!”

“Unlucky you,” she said coldly.

“Okay, I said I was sorry, and thank you. I owe you big time again.”

Bri grinned. She had been my best friend for seventeen years, so apparently she was used to my clumsiness.

I grinned too, glad to see that she had accepted my apology. “What time is it?” I asked as I walked into the dormitory’s bathroom. “Did I miss brekky?”

“No, but we’re definitely going to miss our train home. It leaves in fifteen minutes and guess what…you’re not ready again!” she sighed in annoyance. “I hope you have time to fix that mess you call hair; people will be staring at us as it is, we’re so bloody late. You do this to me every time, Tash…I don’t know why I don’t just leave you here sleeping and get on that train without you.”

“Because you’re my best friend, and you love me. And by the way, not every time. It just happened last year, you know,” I said, sticking my lower lip out in a pout. That usually did the trick with everyone, so why not try my chances with her?

“And the year before,” Bri snapped, raising her eyebrow.

I opened my mouth to give a witty reply, but before I could even start she said, “I don’t care! Hurry up now, or you’ll see the consequences.” she said the last bit in a sinister whisper and flicked her ever-perfect wavy blonde hair in my face as she stormed away.

I decided not to say anything and went towards the bathroom to freshen up. The moment I saw my reflection, I understood what Bri was talking about. My usually neat and flowing black hair was tangled, sticking up at odd angles here and there like the twigs of a broomstick. My hazel eyes were still droopy. Sighing at my stupid luck, I put a bit of toothpaste on my brush. No one would ever have that perfect face and body of Briallen Warwick. No wonder all the girls (except me, of course) hated her. I was brushing my teeth when I saw her reflection on the bathroom mirror. Her face was a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“Whafft?” I asked, my mouth full of toothpaste.

“Nothing, nothing… just hurry up and spit already. You take hours just to brush your bloody teeth…”

I obeyed and continued getting ready. I showered and dressed as Bri tapped her foot impatiently on the wooden floor in the dormitory.

“All set!” I declared when I came out of the bathroom. “And in only five minutes!” I added triumphantly. Bri would never be able to beat that. She took hours in the bathroom every morning.

“Wow, what a record,” she muttered sarcastically, walking towards the door. “Let’s go!”

We ran out of our dormitory, racing downstairs to catch the train, which was waiting for us in a small station nearby the school. I looked longingly at the dining hall as my stomach growled at the whiff of pancakes, but Bri pulled me away from there.

“It’s all because of you, you know. We’ll miss the train if we stop for food!” Bri said when I continued to look wistfully at the hall.

We raced out of the school, almost stumbling into the other late-risers who were rushing past us. I looked back at it longingly, still running. It would be three months before I’d be able to see my school and sleep in my comfortable dormitory again.

There was something special about Eduvene School of Sorcery, though it was hard to tell exactly what. After all, if you drove past it, it would be impossible to tell that it was a school of magic; it was practically indistinguishable from any other old-ish private school in Australia. Built on top of a small hill, the three-storied building was built in the shape of a large rectangle, with a huge courtyard in the middle. The structure was dotted with big windows. Three flights of stone steps led out of each of the three entrances, the largest of them in the middle. Just above the mahogany front doors, a stained glass bore the school’s coat of arms: a kangaroo, a koala, a kookaburra, a possum and a platypus, all congregated around a large “E”. The school looked as brilliant as ever.

We reached the train almost as it was leaving. I was still looking backwards at the school, so I didn’t see the tall figure in front of me. I bumped into him, hard.

“Ugh! Can’t you watch where you’re going, you crazy witch?” asked an exasperated voice.

Bri helped me up. I groaned as I recognized who I had bumped into. Someone with dark, spiky hair and cold grey eyes.

“Sorry, Shaun,” I apologized. Shaun Richton used to be one of my biggest crushes. I was head over heels for him, until I found out he was nothing but an arsehole. Since then I’d been avoiding him, and I was less than happy to see him right before we left.

“Whatever, just watch where you’re going,” replied Shaun agitatedly. His thin face was etched with annoyance, and he was smirking at me.

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that!” snapped Bri.

“What’ll you do?” he asked with a sneer. “Use an Unforgivable? I doubt it, Wazza.”

“Listen, Richton, I don’t want to spoil my mood now, so get lost, or else �“”

“Or what?” he asked, coming forward. He was taller than Bri, who didn’t seem intimidated at all.

“Guys, stop it!” I yelled loudly. Bri and Shaun stopped arguing immediately.

“Listen, Shaun, I don’t give a damn about what you think of me, so rack off,” I said angrily. I’d had enough of this bloody idiot. He had hurt me enough. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”

“Be my guest,” Shaun drawled, stepping aside and gesturing towards the train. Bri and I walked away from Shaun, though I think Bri was tempted to turn around and punch him. I was holding her arm tightly, practically dragging her away from him instead. If she punched him now, all it would achieve was her starting next year with a detention. It’d be better if we just ignored him.

We quickly got on the train, found ourselves a compartment, put our luggage in the rack above and sat down.

“That Shaun,” I grumbled once we were all set. “I don’t understand what the hell his problem is.”

“Why do you even bother?” asked Bri. “Just ignore him.”

“Yeah, I will. I can’t believe that he’s the same bloke I had a crush on a couple of years ago. He was so nice then.”

“That’s what boys are like,” Bri said with a scowl on her face. “And that’s exactly why I don’t date.” Bri wasn’t exactly short of guys falling for her, though she never looked back at any of them.

“He was so nice earlier,” I continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “He started acting like this after I beat him in the exams in fourth year.”

“He’s obsessed with being the best at everything,” Bri said. “That’s how you understand that he’s not a good guy. He stopped being nice to you after you got better grades than he did. What type of friendship is that?”
“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I always am.”

“That’s why you’re my best friend.”

“Hey!”

I grinned. Shaking my head a little at Bri, I looked out of the window. I was a little reluctant to go home, though I was glad to see my parents again. It was fun at school…except for the schoolwork. And home was so…lonely, with just my parents (when they were even home) and I. Only Bri was any company, and that was only when she came over. It was a little pathetic, really, that I liked my school better than my own home.

Hours later when the train pulled into Sydney’s Central Station, I had no idea that I’d receive news that’d change my life forever.

“WHAT?”

This was outrageous. Completely unbelievable.

“Honey, you don’t�“”

“I will NOT be moving to England,” I shouted. This was utterly ridiculous. How could they do this to me? After living in Australia almost my whole life, they now wanted me to tag along to a completely different country, leaving all my friends and my school! What type of sane parents even wanted that for their child? Oh, I knew that answer: my parents.

“Tash, you don’t understand!” Dad said as he ran a hand through his jet-black hair, his thin face etched in annoyance. “I’ve been transferred back to England, I have to go.”

I felt like yelling, “No one’s stopping you!” but then I realized that all that was going to earn me was a long lecture on behaviour from my mother, who was already staring at me beadily from the opposite side of the table. Instead, I took a deep breath and said calmly, “Why have you been transferred now?”

Mum sighed. It seemed that the whole explaining-why-we-have-to-move-to-another-country thing wasn’t going as planned. She stuck a few strands of her honey-blonde hair behind her ears and took off her glasses and started to polish them. I waited, tapping my foot on the wooden kitchen floor.

“Sweetie,” she said, staring at me in a manner that made my anger melt. I couldn’t stay mad at my mother for long, for some reason. Her sweet round face and blue eyes that looked so much like a baby always made me un-angry. “Your father was transferred to Australia from England when you were one year old.” I nodded. I already knew that much. Dad was in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and he was transferred here when the First Wizarding War of England had reached its height. “Your father’s job here was never permanent.”

“Yeah yeah...” I rolled my eyes.

Mum took a deep breath. “Look, Tash, I know this is hard on you�“”

“You think?” I raised my eyebrow.

“�“but it is necessary,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “We have to go to England, honey. Your father’s job is at stake.”

“But where am I going to find my friends in England?” I whined.

“Well, Natasha,” Dad said slowly, trying to reason with me. “We were waiting to surprise you, but I suppose now’s as good a time as any. I’m not the only one who’s received permission to return to England. Briallen’s father is returning as well.”

So Bri was going too? But really, it still didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want to go. Even with Bri, it was still England, the other side of the bloody world.

“Why can’t I stay at Eduvene?” I asked. It seemed like a reasonable plan. Mum and Dad could go �“ after all, they had always wanted to return to England, anyways. I’d just stay at school for the rest of the year. “It’s only a year, you know. I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself! And - and we just won the Quidditch Premierships this year! I have to stay for the team!” I said earnestly.

“I’m not going to leave you here alone, sweetie,” Mum said.

“Yes, Natasha, we’re going back to England, and we’re all going together,” Dad said, his tone telling me that the decision was final.

Oh, for the love of Merlin….

“Fine. Fine!” I said, stamping my foot on the ground. This wasn’t gonna get me anywhere. In fact, it was just making me even madder. “I’m going over to Bri’s.” And without even waiting for a reply I stormed out of the neatly polished kitchen and out the front door.

The sun was glaring at me from the cloudless sky above. It was way too hot outside, and I could almost feel the heat-waves radiating out of the ground below. This did nothing to improve my temper.

Bri’s house was just opposite mine. It even looked identical: a two-storied wood-panelled house with a wide porch in the front. A curved driveway led from the main street to the garage, while a smaller, slightly twisted stone pathway led to the main door.

I walked up the few steps that led to the door and rang the bell with a little too much force than needed. I hoped that Bri was home. I needed a friend right now… we could talk it over and make plans to convince our parents to let us stay back! Maybe we could sneak out of our houses after everyone was asleep and somehow make our way back to Eduvene. I’d try to forge Dad’s signature and write a letter to the Principal to let me stay back. That’d have to work!

Uncle Heath opened the door after a few seconds. I called Bri’s Dad Uncle Heath because he was one of my dad’s closest friends. He hadn’t changed a bit since I saw him last year: his long greyish hair was tied in the usual ponytail at the back of his head, and his thin face was lined prematurely, making him look seventy instead of forty-five. He looked a lot like one of those characters that I had seen in one of Emma Ponting’s Muggle Literature books - except the pink apron he was wearing kind of ruined the effect. I almost laughed out loud. Aunt Camilla was apparently out, leaving him to do the cooking again.

“Oh, hello, Natasha,” he said, smiling at me. He even had that aristocratic British accent. Even my Dad had almost lost his British accent after staying in Australia for fifteen years, but not Uncle Heath.

“Hi, Uncle Heath. I’m here to see Bri,” I said, stepping inside. I walked along the polished wooden floor and was almost near the narrow staircase before he said, “Briallen’s not home, she left a while ago.”

This was just not my day.

“Where is she?” I asked, trying not to sound impatient.

“We told her that we’re leaving, and she stormed out. I assume you did the same too?” he asked, his grey eyes boring into me in a way that kind of gave me the creeps. After seeing him for almost my whole life, I still couldn’t adjust myself to those wild-looking eyes.

“Um… kinda,” I admitted sheepishly.

Uncle Heath smiled. “You’d better go after Bri,” he said. “She’s really immature, despite what she seems like. She’ll need you right now.”

I agreed. Thanking him, I walked out the door and went to the place I knew Bri would be.

Behind my house, a few minutes’ walk away, was a place that Bri and I had discovered when we were little. It was a beautiful place with lots of small trees and flowers and even a small creek. No one ever went there, so it was a place where Bri and I could just sit and have fun.

The path there was narrow and twisted. Trees and shrubs grew everywhere. Sunlight streamed through the thick foliage, illuminating the ground in patches of light. Birds sang overhead as usual and small insects scuttled over the ground. The fragrance of the flowers and the earthly smell of the damp soil underneath my feet filled my lungs, intoxicating me. After the Quidditch pitch, this was my most favourite place in the world.

It didn’t take me long to find out where Bri was. Just beside the little creek, Bri was sitting cross-legged, staring intently at the water. Smiling, I walked over to her.

The water was crystal clear and I could almost see the glittering sand below. I saw Bri’s reflection- she seemed to be really upset. When she saw my face in the water, she whipped around and looked at me.

“Hey,” she said. Her voice was broken and her eyes were blood-shot �“ she had been crying. This itself had me dumb-struck. Bri was the strong one. She never cried…

“Hey, what… what’s wrong?” I asked, unsure of what to say.

“We’re moving,” she replied flatly.

“Yeah… it sucks.”

“You think?” she scoffed. “Can you imagine leaving this place? Father says we’re going home. But this is home! We are home, Tash!” she motioned around us. “Eduvene is home! I don’t wanna go to Hogwarts. What kind of name is Hogwarts for a school anyway?”

I resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

“Think about me,” I said darkly. “Mike hinted that I’d be Quidditch Captain next year. What am I supposed to do now?”

Bri rolled her eyes. “That’s all she can think about,” she muttered. “Quidditch!”

“Oi, it’s a fact…”

We sat there for a long time, talking about how this was gonna change our lives. Nothing would be the same anymore: no more stalking the cute boys, no more pulling pranks on the juniors, no more late night adventures to the kitchens to nick food... and no Quidditch Captaincy (though technically I wasn’t even Captain yet, Mike just hinted...)

“Hey!” I said, my face breaking into a wide grin. “No more Shaun!”

Bri laughed. “That’s about the only good side,”

After thinking a few seconds, I said, “No more boiling summers.”

Bri snorted. “True…”

“And there’ll be fewer girls trying to kill you.”

“Yeah �“ OI!”

I laughed. Bri crinkled her nose and said, “No more drinking that foul eucalyptus juice every day.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I don’t care what they say about it making you beautiful, that stuff is foul.”

Maybe moving to England might not be the worst thing ever, I thought to myself.

“Ready, Tash?” Mum called from downstairs.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

I woke up early the next day; I always did that whenever we went out of city or town. I guess it was because I was kind of excited to go to England; usually I slept till Bri wakes me up in the most unpleasant, annoying, cruel ways. I got dressed and quickly went through my luggage one more time to check whether I had everything.

It was all set: my broom, my clothes, my books and all my other random junk were packed. I levitated all my stuff downstairs even though I officially wasn’t of age, for I felt rather rebellious. It hardly mattered, though; my parents weren’t that strict about underage magic anyways. I slowly walked out of the room, following my trunk, into the hallway. Mum and Dad were already there, wearing wizard’s robes instead of their usual Muggle clothing, and in front of them was an old and used up tin of canned fruits �“ a Portkey. We couldn’t simply take the Floo due to my heavy trunk and broom. Not that I minded �“ I hated travelling by Floo, because it always made me dizzy and nauseous.

“All set, dear?” Mum asked, poking her head through the door connecting the living room and the hallway.


“Yeah, Mum,” I replied, putting my luggage down. “Let’s go.” I looked around. All the boxes had been moved; they had probably been sent over to England already.


Dad motioned to me with his hands to come forwards. “We’ve only got one minute, Tash, hurry up!”

I shuffled over to the Portkey and touched it. Having nothing else to do for the next minute, I looked around, feeling a wave a sadness wash over me. This house had been my home since I was just one year old, and now I had to leave it. I had so many memories of this place, of the wooden front doors on which I had often banged my head accidentally when I was a kid, and those beautiful peach walls which used to be my canvas during my childhood. With a grin, I remembered that one day, when I was three, I had taken Dad’s quill and had drawn a beautiful picture (well, according to a child, because it was actually loads of scribbles) on it. Mom had yelled at me for ruining the wall. Then she had sighed, taken out her wand and removed the scribbles.

I giggled mentally; the memories were so hilarious! I had slipped on the slippery marble floor quite a few times, and had even broken my knee once when I was six. It was really painful and I had cried my eyes out, until Dad heard my loud shrieks and had come over to fix the pain with a flick of his wand. I smiled to myself.

“What is it, dear?” Mum asked curiously when she noticed me smiling for no reason.

“Nothing,” I sighed. “This place holds so many memories, that’s all…”

“Sure does.”

Dad looked at his watch. “Three…two…one,” he counted. I quickly grabbed my trunk with my other hand as I felt a tiny jerk behind her navel. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the Australian Ministry of Magic.

Saying that this place was beautiful would be an understatement. It was awesome. The floors and walls were made of sandstone, and there was a red carpet leading from the revolving glass doors to the counter. I knew what was outside the doors: A dark alleyway. If a Muggle looked at the doors from outside, it would simply look like a boarded up basement.

Many fireplaces lined the walls, some of them empty, while others burst suddenly into green flames, people stepping out of them the moment the emerald swirls died down. Many tiny, luminescent balls floated high above the floor, illuminating the entire hall. The high ceiling was adorned with a huge, historic painting of the founders laying the cornerstone of the Ministry. Even as I looked at it, the first ever Minister for Magic, Artemius Tangleworth, was levitating the huge stone into the foundation.

I turned towards Mum and Dad, who were right beside me. “What are we doing at the Ministry?” I asked.

“We’re going to the Office of International Transport,” Mum answered. “We take another Portkey to England, because Floo cannot be connected like that internationally.” We started walking up the Hallway towards the floating stairs. They were kind of like Muggle escalators that Bri and I had seen so many times at the shopping malls.

But before that we had to stop at Dad’s office to get our legal documents. Dad’s office was on the fourth floor �“ the entire level was dedicated to the Department of International Magical Cooperation. We walked down a long corridor (a bit hard for me as I had to carry my trunk all the way; Dad wouldn’t let me use magic in Ministry premises just because I’m not of age yet) until we reached Dad’s office. The words Kevin Osborne were engraved on a golden plate stuck on his door.

Dad pushed the door open and we entered. He waved his wand and the room lit up, revealing his neatly organised office. His office was, as usual for offices, stacked with millions of books (though I don’t believe he read any of these). Tired of pulling my trunk, I plopped down on one of the posh blue sofas.

“Do we really have to waste so much time here?” I asked, putting my legs up on the coffee table. Mum swatted my legs and gave me an irritated look. Rolling my eyes, I grudgingly put my feet down.

“Do you want to go to England or not?” Dad asked, rummaging through his desk as he looked for our travel-permits. “They won’t let us leave without proper documents, right?”

Meanwhile, I had just noticed a piece of parchment lying on the carpet below the coffee table. Wondering what it was, I bent down to pick it up.

It was a letter of some sort, addressed to my Dad.

Mr Osborne, it read in a neat, slanted handwriting.

With the cessation of open warfare in Britain, there is no longer need for you to maintain your current post in Australia. The safety of your family is obviously of the utmost importance, for reasons I’m sure you are well aware, and we would like to be as delicate about your return to our shores. Minister Shacklebolt is making the necessary arrangements as I write this, and by the time this letter reaches you everything should be more than ready. As I’m sure you understand, however, there is a certain care needed in regards to -


Before I could read any further, Dad had tugged the letter out of my hands.

“Tash, wh-what have I told you about reading official letters?” he asked. For a second, an odd expression flashed across his face. I couldn’t really place what it was, but he’d never looked at me in this way before. It was something like... like fear of getting caught. I thought so, because I had a feeling that the same look had appeared on my face whenever I didn’t want to get caught about anything.

However, that second had passed a long time ago, and Dad now seemed back to normal �“ just a bit annoyed. I rolled my eyes, smiling.

Dad smiled at me too. “These are official letters, Tash,” he said. “You’re not supposed to read them.”

“Yeah, your return to England is such a top secret issue,” I said sarcastically.

“Whatever,” Dad said hurriedly. “I got the papers we need �“” He waved a couple of tiny booklets and pieces of parchment in his hands. “�“ so let’s go.”

I got up and picked up my trunk once again. I noticed my parents exchange dark looks. Mum’s eyes were wide. Dad gave a small, imperceptible nod, but then closed his eyes and gave a small jerk of his head. Mum seemed to relax. I don’t think they were aware that I had caught their mute conversation, but I wondered �“ what was it that they were trying to hide from me?

---

The rest of the process was quite easy. We walked down the hallway, crossing the levitating stairs through which we had come up and went straight forward. Doors lined the entire corridor, with a few stairs branching off to other smaller offices. More paintings hung on the whitewashed walls, some showing beautiful sceneries or natural parks, and other displayed various sorts of meetings.

We went into a large office at the end of the corridor. It was full of fireplaces and, at one side, junk items that were obviously Portkeys. It was also full of people. Large queues had formed in front of all the fireplaces or Portkeys, and Ministry wizards were flanking the modes of transport, apparently checking everyone for their proper documents.

“So many people go out of the country every day?” I asked Dad, surprised. I had no idea.

“Why did you think we were always so busy?” Dad laughed at my ignorance. “It’s not an easy job you know. And now that the War is over all the British refugees leave for England, and that’s actually a lot of people.”

There was a separate line for Ministry wizards and their families (thank Merlin, because I don’t think I could carry this bloody trunk for much longer), which was reasonably empty. After the wizards were done checking, we gathered around our Portkey, which was a rusty old watering can.

“Ten... nine... eight...” the Ministry wizard counted.

I wondered if I’d ever be back to Australia.

“Seven... six... five...”

I would miss Eduvene a lot.

“Four... three...”

The Portkey started to glow a bright blue. This was it, then. Bye, Australia.

“Two... one... and go.”

I felt a familiar jerk behind my navel, and I closed my eyes as I left my country behind.

My feet gave way as soon as we landed, and I stumbled to the hard, stone floor. That was the longest Portkey journey I had ever taken; I guessed the laws of travel were the same everywhere: the longer the distance, the more time it takes and the more disoriented people become.

Beside me, my parents seemed absolutely oblivious the consequences of long-distance travel by Portkey. Both of them looked rather amused as they saw me on the ground.

“No time for a nap, Tash,” Dad said, loudly enough for only me to hear, and winked. He stretched out his hand towards me. Grumbling, I took his hand and pulled myself up to my feet. Looking around, I saw that I was in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by around two dozen people. Great, I thought irritably as I fixed my clothes and hair. I just had to embarrass myself in a room full of people.

“Where are we?” I asked, taking in my surroundings. The room didn’t seem unlike the one we had been in previously. The only difference was that there were no windows, and the sources of light were torches that were held in brackets. Fireplaces lined the walls, warm fires cackling in the grates. There were people everywhere, but this time, they all seemed to leave the room instead of standing in long lines. Occasionally the fires in the grates would turn emerald and a person would stumble out. People also Apparated in with loud cracks either alone or in couples, or, like us, arrived in groups via Portkeys.

“This,” Dad said, looking around proudly, “is the Ministry of Magic, London. We’re back in England.”

For some reason, I felt… really glad to be back here. I was the one who’d been the most reluctant to go through with the trip, but here I was, grinning like an idiot. The moment my feet stepped down, I felt an odd connection to this place, and I felt like I really was home.

Mum smiled at my expression. “I thought you weren’t happy with this.”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “It looks like I changed my mind without knowing it myself.”

---

The journey out of the Ministry wasn’t very eventful. We showed our documents to the customs-wizards, who also waved their wand around my trunk to see if there was anything inside. It glowed bright white and suddenly became transparent, showing everything inside. Once they were satisfied that I wasn’t carrying anything dangerous, they waved Probity-probes over us. Finally, when they were sure that we weren’t impostors, they let us pass.

Once we left the room, we found ourselves in a corridor lined with heavy oak doors. The walls were made of panelled, dark wood that shone from the sunlight streaming in through the windows. (“They’re not real windows, by the way; we’re underground,” Dad told me, much to my surprise.) The floor was also polished, dark wood, contrasting with the white ceiling overhead. People jostled past us, some of them carrying large boxes full of what looked like run-of-the-mill, used up items like drink-cans: Portkeys, I assumed. At the end of the long corridor was what looked like an elevator. Beside it, in gold letters superimposed on a black, metal plate, were the words LEVEL FIVE, Department of International Magical Cooperation.

After waiting there a few seconds, the elevator glided up from the lower floors, and the golden grilles slid open automatically, making lots of annoying, jangling noises. Inside were a couple of people: a tall, dark-skinned wizard wearing exquisite, black robes, and a young, bespectacled witch who was holding a stack of parchment. The light above us flickered slightly as a cluster of pink paper-planes flew in after us. I didn’t bother asking Dad what it was, for they were probably memos or files of some sort.

As we ascended, a cool, female voice was announcing the name of the departments as we stopped at them one by one. The dark-skinned wizard and the young witch left at Level Seven, which, according to the woman’s voice, was the Department of Magical Games and Sports. At every level, people and memos alike crowded into the elevator, so by the time we arrived at the last floor I was squashed against the back wall of the elevator. Grumbling, I shuffled out of the elevator after everyone else. Looking around me, I found that there were around two-dozen other similar elevators. And everyone had to take the same one as us, I thought irritably.

“Where are we now?” I asked Mum as we made our way into a much larger room.

“The Atrium, sweetheart,” she replied.

We were walking across a huge, splendid hallway with similar polished, dark wood floors like the corridor we were in below. The roof, on the other hand, was royal blue, compared to the white ceiling of the department we had been in. Golden symbols set against the ceiling moved about; it looked a lot like the notice-board we used to have in the Entrance Hall back in Eduvene. The panelled, dark wood walls had gilded fireplaces set against them, and people appeared in a swirl of green flames every few seconds.

At the centre of the hall was a golden fountain. However, there was no decoration on top. Instead, there was a large pillar, on which was engraved thousands of tiny names. I walked up to it to get a better look. At the top of the pillar was emblazoned the words, “Martyrs of the War”, and the smaller, etched words seemed to be names of people.

My parents came up to me. “These are all the people who died in the war,” Mum said softly. “The names of those murdered by the Death Eaters, or by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself.”

“So many?” I whispered with a sickening feeling at the base of my stomach.

“They killed everyone, starting from men and women to children, wizards to Muggles,” Dad said bitterly. “He stopped at no one, though he did hesitate to spill magical blood. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch, trying to shift the topic. “We better get going.”

Tearing my eyes away from the pillar, I followed my parents towards the fireplaces.

Shortly, however, my attention was drawn once more by a small crowd near the dark, polished wooden front doors. Flashes of light and puffs of smoke erupted from cameras; many reporters seemed to be gathered around someone. It was a dark-skinned wizard clad in navy-blue robes, and he had an air of authority about him.

“Minister Shacklebolt, what about the fugitive Death Eaters?” a skinny, red-haired reporter was saying. “It has been a month now, how long will it be before they are caught?”

“The Aurors are working on it day and night,” the Minister replied in a deep, soothing voice. “We already have a lead on Travers and Avery, and I can assure you, it will not be long before someone is caught.” I could see why this guy was the Minister; he spoke in a really convincing and solid voice.

“What about the Dementors?” A dimply witch was asking.

“They are being rounded up as we speak...”

I had no time to hear, however, for Mum ushered me towards the fireplace. Dad seemed to have left already.

“Say ‘Number sixteen, Brytlee Place’, loudly and clearly,” she instructed me. She took my trunk from me, telling me that she would bring it along.

I stepped into the fireplace hesitantly and took a pinch of Floo powder from an urn on the mantelpiece. I hated travelling by Floo. Screwing my eyes shut, I dropped the powder into the fireplace, and immediately, green flames started to lick up my robes, billowing smoke upwards. Coughing and spluttering, I stammered, “Number sixteen, Bry-brytlee P-place!”

I tucked my arms inward as close as possible as I whizzed upwards. I peeked and saw a flurry of rooms through other grates. I kept on spinning like this for a few seconds, until finally, to my relief, I came to a halt. Staggering out, I saw Dad waiting for me.

“Why Floo?” I asked, annoyed. Dad just grinned at me. Behind me, I heard Mum arrive with a soft whoosh.

I looked around me and wrinkled my nose in disgust. The place was a mess. The ceiling was covered with cobwebs, and the floor was coated with a thick inch of dust and grime. All the furniture was covered with white sheets, but they were covered with so much dust that the original colour was gone. The paint was peeling off from the walls. Dark and damp, the house didn’t really seem brightly lit, like its name suggested.

Mum looked around in revulsion. “What in the name of Merlin...”

“What do you expect? It was boarded up for the last sixteen years, its bound to be a little grimy,” Dad said.

This place would need a lot of cleaning to do, I thought wryly.

Mum seemed to be thinking along the same lines, too, for she took out her wand and hastily muttered, “Tergeo”. The thick coating of grime and dust vanished, exposing the wooden floorboards beneath. Next she flicked her wand, causing the white clothes covering the furniture to vanish. The sofas and tables were very old and, as Bri would say, totally out of style. They looked as if someone had gone two centuries back using a Time-Turner and had brought these back.

“You couldn’t have gotten these cleaned up before we got here?” Mum rounded on Dad, her hands on her hips, a fiery expression on her face.

Dad looked bewildered. “How was I supposed to do that?”

Mum shook her head in annoyance. She hated it when the house was dirty and grimy.

For the next two hours, we trolled around the whole house, trying to get everything in order. It turned out we were in the living room in the ground floor. The house was bigger than the one we had in Australia, which was good for me. Besides the living room, the ground floor consisted of a dining room, a kitchen and a small veranda. There was a door in the kitchen that led to a huge garden at the back, and the moment I stepped out, I saw the most gorgeous scenery.

For miles, there was nothing but trees and hills that were a million shades of green. Our house, it seemed, was perched on top of a hill, and looking down from the edge I could see multiple fields and lakes. From the outside, the house looked brilliant. Made of dark stone, it was covered with ivy and flowers that reached up the windows, which were lined with white wood. There was a small, cobbled path that snaked away from the front door towards the base of the hill. The garden outside was huge, full of trees and flowers that had outgrown themselves all over the place due to lack of proper care. While I was in there, I thought I had caught a glimpse of something that had a head shaped like a potato: a goblin, I assumed. The moment it saw me, it dived into the bushes behind it.

Nonetheless, the view looked absolutely lovely.

Grinning to myself, I thought, What a wonderful place to practise Quidditch.

After a while, my parents had to pull me back into the house. In the corridor leading from the front door to the other rooms, there was a wooden, curved staircase that led to the upper floors, where there were three bedrooms: My parents’, mine, and a guestroom. My room, I thought, was rather small, though it did have a small balcony overlooking the hills.

The bedrooms were large and spacious, and my parents had a beautiful Victorian-style king-sized bed with had flowy white hangings. They were, however, torn, and so were the bed-sheets. The dark-wood dressing table and cupboard were full of termites, covered with a whitish layer of who-knows what, and the curtains seemed to be buzzing with doxies. The carpets emitted a thick puff of dust whenever we stepped on them. My room was not in a much better condition, either. In fact, it was worse, because I could hear lots of banging and clanking from the pipes overhead.

Mum had had enough. With a determined look on her face, she conjured an apron and a bunch of cleaning sprays and pesticides and handed one over to me and to Dad, who looked bemused. As far as I know, Dad had never cleaned anything in his life. When he opened his mouth to protest, Mum shut him up with a glare that could easily rival that of a Basilisk.

Having left with no choice, we started doing the chores Mum handed out. I was supposed to be cleaning the floors with a floor-cleaner while Dad polished the wood. Grinning to myself, I threw down the cleaning supplies and took out my wand the moment Mum left. I pointed it to the floor and muttered, “Evanesco.” The dust vanished, leaving behind a squeaky clean wooden floor. I glanced at Dad, who winked at me, pointing his own wand at the wood. Relieved, I went over to the other room.

A whole hour later, everything seemed to be fixed. Every single surface gleamed, and the furniture looked brand new, though they were still “out of style”. The curtains were no longer torn and buzzing, for Mum had removed all the doxies (you could tell there were many, because she had bruises and doxy-bites all over her arms and had needed Dad’s help to get rid of them) and had fixed the curtains in a jiffy. New wallpapers had been put up, so the walls looked much brighter and colourful, especially the living room, which was a welcoming, pale yellow colour that reminded me of the sun. Even the granite countertops of the kitchen gleamed brilliantly, and so did the brass pots and pans. Exhausted, I plopped down on a chair surrounding the small table in the kitchen.

“Phew,” I sighed, wiping the sweat off my forehead.

Dad sat down beside me and conjured bottles of Firewhiskey and Butterbeer. He took a bottle of Firewhiskey for himself and handed another to Mum. As I reached for one, he slapped my hand away, saying, “You get the Butterbeer.”

Annoyed, I took the Butterbeer. Dad honestly had no idea what we did in the common room after Ginosus won a Quidditch match...

Once I was done chugging down the whole bottle, I shuffled over to my room and plopped down on the bed. The new room had light blue walls, which had silver marks on it. The bed had blue and deep blue shaded covers, and the curtains were coloured silver. The furniture was now painted silver too. There was a carpet now, dyed deep blue. Even the doors were painted silver.

It just lacks pictures. I thought to myself. I waved my wand and lots of pictures and posters appeared on the wall, all of them moving. There were pictures of Briallen and I, pictures of our family during vacations, posters of my favourite Quidditch team (Sydney Strikers), and of my very own house team. “Better now,” I said, grinning to myself. Without another word, I drifted off to sleep.

---

It was finally dinnertime when I came downstairs again. There was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen �“ Mum was cooking her famous shepherd’s pie. I walked into the dining room, which was a large and spacious room with a big dining table and a mini-bar. The off-white wallpaper looked gorgeous with the dark-wood furniture. There was no wall between the kitchen and the dining room; the only thing between them was the mini-bar.

“Hey, Dad,” I said. Dad was sitting at the head of the table, reading a newspaper titled the Daily Prophet. I felt a pang of sadness as I realized I would no longer be able to solve the re-shuffling crossword in the Australian paper; the Sorcerer’s Daily.

“Good evening, Tash,” he answered, scanning a page before turning to another.

“What’re you reading?” I asked, sitting down and resting my elbows on top of the table.

“Sports,” Dad replied absent-mindedly. “The Cannons are still at the bottom of the League, but Puddlemere United are doing good…” he muttered to himself.

“Can I see?” I asked, reaching for the paper, but Dad snatched it away, saying, “No, you get it after me. I need to see the standings. I’ve missed these so much…”

Giving up, I called, “How long will it take, Mum?”

Right on cue, she came in, carrying a dish of pie. “Here I am,” she said, setting the plate on the table. “Put that away, dear,” she told Dad.

“But Cassie, the�“”

“No, dear, you will not read the paper while you eat.”

“Fine,” grumbled Dad, folding the paper and setting it aside. I sniggered.

After the delicious dinner was over and I was about to go back to my room, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I said. Scarpering down the stairs, I opened the front door. There stood my best friend, wearing an annoyed expression on her face.

“Bri!” I squealed, hugging her tightly. “You �“ what �“ how did �“ I missed you!”

“Get off, you brat,” she said, looking at me with mingled joy and annoyance. “You’re ruining my dress! Why are you always so late at opening the bloody door? It’s been around five minutes!”

Grinning, I stepped aside to let her in. “How did you get here?” I asked, closing the door.

“I Apparated,” she said smugly. I had forgotten; Bri had turned seventeen a week before leaving Eduvene, so she’d passed the Apparition test.

“But how did you know the address?”

“That’s none of your business,” she replied shortly.

Rolling my eyes, I took her upstairs to my room and closed the door. My parents wouldn’t mind; it was just Bri.

“Nice,” she said, looking around my room. She did wrinkle her nose when she saw the Quidditch posters, though. “It’s better than my house,” she said, sighing. She conjured up two bottles of Firewhiskey and took one.

“Why?” I asked, surprised, taking the other.

“Well, for one thing, it’s like a bloody manor. It’s… a mini castle, Tash. Chatsworth House, it’s called, but its so not a house. How are we supposed to live there? It’s very old fashioned, worse than Eduvene used to be… imagine, it’s just the four of us: Mother, Father, Nate and I, and we have to live there... alone.” Nate was Briallen’s eleven-year-old brother; he was going to start Edu �“ I mean, Hogwarts with us this year.

“You can come live here with me,” I prompted, taking a swig from my bottle. “It’ll be fun!”

Bri laughed. “Right. I’ll only live with you if the world comes to an end and I have bloody nowhere to go.”

I chuckled, because I knew Bri really didn’t mean that.

Suddenly, an idea came to my head. “You know what?” I said. “I know what can cheer you up.”

“What?” she asked, frowning.

“A party!”

Bri looked at me in surprise, one eyebrow raised. “A… party?”

“Yeah, we can invite lots of people over, not only family, but anyone Dad knows. We’ll get to see if anyone our age gets to go to Hogwarts with us, and we can try to be friends, you know,” I said hastily, seeing Bri’s eyebrow going higher and higher until it was almost hidden by her fringe of blonde hair. That was a lame idea, I thought.

To my surprise, Bri cracked a smile. “Not bad,” she said, taking a sip of Firewhiskey.

I grinned. I can’t wait for her to meet Revlyn, I thought cheekily, thinking about my Quidditch-loving, crazy cousin with a wit to match Bri’s. The party would be very interesting…

It was kind of hard to get my parents to agree for the party, but finally I ended up convincing them. So finally, on Saturday, I found myself sulking in front of my dresser, wondering what to wear. My wardrobe doors lay ajar, all the contents having been dumped on my bed. I couldn’t find a single pair of robes that made me look decent! Some were too short, others too long. Others were either too tight or too loose. Some were too revealing, while others simply covered too much.

Why the hell did I even think about throwing a bloody party?

The door opened with a squeak and Bri’s head popped in. I whipped around.

â€�“Crickey, you look… wow!” I said, stunned. Bri looked gorgeous in her sparkling green robes. Her long blond hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head, but a few strands were left loose, framing her pale face.

â€�“And you look… as usual,” she said, raising an eyebrow. â€�“Why aren’t you dressed yet? So many people are already downstairs!”

I waved a hand towards my bed. â€�“Nothing to wear,” I said, sighing dramatically. Bri rolled her eyes.

â€�“Ugh, Tash, you’re such a bourke,” she muttered. Walking over to my bed, she pulled out midnight-blue dress-robes and held it in front of her.

â€�“Too long,” I prompted. It was; heck, it swept the floor when Bri wore it, meaning it would be much too long for me.

Scoffing, Bri dumped it on the ground and drew out pink Muggle dress with a frilly white collar.

I frowned. â€�“Too silly; I don’t like pink anymore.”

â€�“Merlin,” Bri sighed and tugged out sparkling black dress-robes, decorated with black sequins.

â€�“Nah, too emo,” I said, waving my hand.

Bri threw it down on the floor and stomped over to me, a vicious look on her face. â€�“Listen, you bloody idiot,” she hissed, her face inches from mine, her beautiful features contorted into something fierce. Sometimes I wondered whether Bri had Veela blood in her. â€�“You are going to wear the next robe I pull out, and I don’t care what you think! Do you understand me?” She had that bone-chilling look in her eyes. Gulping, I nodded.

â€�“Good,” she whispered. She glided over to my bed, and pulled out a shimmering, pale blue silk robe. The neck was slightly low-cut, but the length of the sleeves made up for it, so that it didn’t look too slutty. The cuffs were studded with stones, and the whole thing was sparkling in the light.

â€�“Pretty,” I breathed, gushing over the dress.

â€�“Finally,” Bri muttered, rolling her eyes. I grabbed the dress from her and went to the bathroom to change. The dress fit exactly right, accentuating the curves on my body. Finally, once I was all zipped up, I came out. Bri was waiting for me, tapping her feet on the blue carpet.

â€�“Took you long enough,” she said rather acidly. Nevertheless, she took my by the shoulders and sat me down on the stool in front of my dresser. â€�“All that’s left is your hair.”

â€�“It’s fine!” I squealed. I hated it when anyone touched my hair; it was always so tangled and broomsticky, it hurt whenever someone ran a brush through it. And knowing Bri, she’d tug and pull so hard, my hair would come off. Ignoring my squeals and protests, Bri took out a bottle of Madam Cabella’s All-Purpose Hair-Care Potion and a comb. She sprayed almost the entire bottle on my hair, and after five minutes of stinging and burning on my scalp, my black hair turned rather flat and straight. Then, Bri raised the comb like an executioner about to slay a hippogriff, and slashed it down on my hair. Surprisingly, the tugging and yelling never came. It just ran through my hair, smoothly and swiftly.

â€�“What did you do to my hair?” I asked, awed. Bri just smirked smugly.

After ten minutes, my long hair was lying in loose curls along my shoulder. The top was puffed up and tied on top of my head with blue hairclip, and the hair in front was swept into fringes to the side.

â€�“Tada!” Bri said happily. â€�“Say that you like it!”

â€�“I love it,” I said, staring in awe at my reflection.

I followed Bri downstairs to the party, gasping at the sight of so many people in the living room. It looked like a sea of colourful robes.

â€�“Ugh, too many Purebloods,” Bri said, her eyes sweeping over all the people. â€�“Look at them, they’re wearing the old-fashioned, traditional robes. I bet they thought it was a Pureblood gathering.”

Mum and Dad came up to us, and I thought it was rather odd seeing them dressed up so formally in dress-robes. I was used to seeing them dressed in Muggle clothes most of the time. Mum started gushing over my attire; honestly, I think she didn’t expect I’d look that pretty. Once I was done giving the credit to Bri, Dad asked, â€�“Is that why you took so long? To get ready?” I nodded.

â€�“You look gorgeous, Natasha, dear,” said a familiar voice behind us.

I turned around to look at the new-comer and my face lit up when he saw who had made the comment.

â€�“Auntie Simone!” I said, hugging the curly-haired woman. â€�“How are you? It’s been so long!”

My dad’s sister, who was my favourite (and only) aunt, smiled warmly at me, her blue eyes twinkling. She ruffled my hair affectionately, which she always did when she saw me.

â€�“Hey!” I exclaimed in annoyance at her messing up my hair. She was exactly as I remembered from our trips to England: tall, slim and sweet. Behind her was Uncle Adrian, a chubby man with brown hair and a beer-belly.

â€�“Hey Uncle Adrian!” I greeted him, smiling warmly. He smiled back, patting my cheek lightly.

I looked around, looking for my cousins as my Aunt became busy with my parents. â€�“Where are Rev and Alex?” I asked my uncle.

â€�“Seriously, Tash, you should get an appointment with an eye Healer!” scoffed a voice behind me.

I swivelled around to find a tall girl smirking at her with her arms crossed. She had the Osborne jet-black hair, and light blue eyes, and was wearing evening-blue robes. This was Revlyn Harlow, my Dad’s sister’s daughter, and my only most awesome cousin. â€�“What did you do to your hair?” were the first things that slipped out of my mouth.

Revlyn raised an eyebrow at me. â€�“Tamed it,” she answered, smiling.

â€�“Wow, you really straightened it out!” I commented, for I had last seen Revlyn with bushy, black hair, the last time.

At that moment, a little brown haired girl, with equally brown eyes, came out of nowhere and hugged me tightly.

â€�“Tasha! Tasha!” exclaimed the ten-year-old.

â€�“Nice to see you again too, Alex!” I said, laughing, and trying to pull Alexis away.

â€�“Come on, brat, wouldn’t want Tasha’s dress to be spoiled, would we now?” Revlyn laughed as she pulled her sister away.

â€�“I’m not spoiling her dress, I’m hugging her!” Alexis exclaimed indignantly.

Revlyn just rolled her eyes, and lightly pushed Alexis towards a group of children near us. Then she turned towards me again, glancing at someone beside me, who had been quiet the whole time. â€�“Uh, Tash?” she said, indicating to the person with her eyes.

I frowned at Revlyn. â€�“What?”

The person groaned. â€�“Hi, I’m Briallen Warwick, Natasha’s friend,” Bri introduced herself, waving at Revlyn, and hitting my head lightly.

I scowled at Bri as Revlyn laughed. â€�“She’s still dim-witted huh?” asked Revlyn.

â€�“Yup, and she’s becoming more dim-witted every day,” replied Bri, glancing at me.

â€�“Hey! I’m standing right here!”

â€�“We can see that, Tash,” Revlyn said, laughing.

â€�“Unlike you,” added Bri, smirking.

â€�“Oh, you two will get along perfectly,” I grumbled, as I scowled at my cousin and my friend.

I pursed my lips, silently cursing the two girls who were smirking triumphantly at me. Just to change the damned topic, I turned to Revlyn and said, "So, we're gonna be school mates now!"

Revlyn looked at me in what looked like shock. "You're coming to Hogwarts?" she asked in a not-so-happy tone.

"Yup, and so will Bri," I said, looking at Revlyn curiously for her lack of excitement. Wasn’t she happy?

"But - but Eduvene's a boarding school. You don't need to leave," said Revlyn.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but Mom and Dad think that I should go to Hogwarts and follow traditions or whatever. Oh, and, not to mention, it’s almost on the other side of the world."

"But why now after sixteen years?" she asked.

"I don't know… Revlyn... is something wrong? You don't look too happy," I hesitantly asked. Revlyn was one of the reasons I was actually looking forward to being at Hogwarts.

Revlyn quickly masked her expression. "Of course I'm happy. Why shouldn't I be, you're my cousin remember?" she said, smiling at me, but somehow I thought it didn’t really reach her eyes. "I wonder which house you'll be in. Probably not Ravenclaw, you're not smart enough," she added.

I looked confused. Revlyn merely smiled and explained, "People are sorted into their houses at Hogwarts by their qualities, family history and a lot of other things, Tash. People in Gryffindor are mostly brave, Ravenclaws are intelligent, Hufflepuffs are the loyal ones, and Slytherins are the ambitious and cunning ones."

"Where are you?" I asked. I knew for a fact that most of our family had been Gryffindors.

"Ravenclaw," Revlyn replied with pride in her voice.

"I think I'll be in Gryffindor, since everyone in Dad’s side has been one. And Bri’ probably get Slytherin," I added, looking snarkily at Bri, who hit me on the head. I scowled at her.

"You can't be too sure.” Rev replied. My dad's family was all in Ravenclaw, and for me it was a choice between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, with my mum being a Gryffindor as well."

"How did your mum react?"

"She was fine really. I mean, at least it wasn't Slytherin."

"Is there anything... wrong with Slytherin?" I asked curiously.

"Nothing's wrong with it. It's the best house there is," a drawling voice interrupted Rev before she could answer. A dark-skinned teenage boy had sauntered towards us.

"Good evening, ladies," he said, and nodded towards Revlyn, "Harlow, you're not turning these lovely ladies against Slytherin, are you?"

"Of course not, Zabini, why on earth would I do that?" Revlyn replied, smirking at the boy. "Unless of course you gave me reason to do so," she added slyly. â€�“Tell me, is Blaise a girl’s name, or a guy’s?”

"Always the one with the witty comebacks, Harlow."

"And you're always the one trying to win an argument with me, Zabini.”

"Ah, but I don't try, I always win. Tell me, what have you done with your hair? Finally realised it looked too much like Granger’s?"

I didn't understand what that meant, but I did realise from Zabini's tone that he was trying to insult Revlyn. However, Revlyn merely smiled wryly at him.

"I see you still believe in that nonsense, Zabini," she commented. â€�“I thought you’d stop after the damn war, you know. I thought you’d stop after your family dropped so low in the eyes of others. Wonder why my uncle even invited your family.”

Zabini didn’t answer Revlyn, but looked at her with his eyes narrowed. â€�“At least my family’s a right sight better than Malfoy’s.” He then turned towards Bri and me.

"Blaise Zabini," he introduced himself with a slight nod.

I smiled at him. "Natasha Osborne," I said, introducing myself. I didn’t know what Revlyn was going on about, but he was kind of... good looking.

"Briallen Warwick," Bri said, with a slight smile towards Zabini.

"Warwick? Are you by any chance related to Heath Warwick?" asked Zabini.

"I'm his daughter," replied Bri.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Warwick. My stepfather knew Mr. Warwick once," he said. "Would you like to dance?"

Bri hesitated at first, but accepted his offer. Revlyn and I watched as they walked to the centre of the room.

"He’s nice,” I said casually.

â€�“Nice?” Rev exclaimed incredulously. â€�“Do you know who that is?”

â€�“Er…no?” I replied uncertainly.

â€�“That is Blaise Zabini, a stupid, pompous Slytherin at Hogwarts,”

â€�“If he’s really that bad, then why did he act so polite towards us?”

Revlyn snorted. â€�“You should see the way he acts with Muggleborns. He’s only like this with people equal to his status. I expect Uncle Kevin didn’t know about Blaise’s mother; he wouldn’t have invited them if he knew.” Revlyn let out a sigh. â€�“Come on, let’s get drinks.”

Revlyn and I made our way towards the mini bar and sat down on the bar-stools, where a tiny house-elf was giving out drinks. There was a napkin-hat nested between her huge, bat-like ears, on top of which was pinned a badge saying Edgey’s Elf service for parties and weddings., while another napkin was tied around its waist like a skirt. â€�“Good evening, Misses!” It squeaked shrilly; it was probably a girl elf. â€�“Can Tinkle get you anything?”

â€�“Two glasses of Butterbeer, please?” I said sweetly.

The elf’s eyes became glassy as it replied in a choked up voice, â€�“Right away, Miss!” I chuckled.

As our drinks were being prepared, I looked around. We were not alone the bar; a tall boy not much older than me was sitting a few seats away from us, his head bent low, a glass of Firewhiskey clutched between his long, pale fingers. He had platinum-blond hair, and was wearing a set of black robes. I wondered why he was sitting there all alone. I stood up and made my way towards him.

â€�“Where are you going?” Revlyn asked, alarmed. â€�“Tash, come here!”

I waved at her, saying that I’ll be back, and continued towards the blonde boy. â€�“Hi,” I said, once I reached him.

He looked up. His face was pale, and his cheeks were sunken. His gray eyes, which had a look of anguish in them, looked at me with apprehension. He looked tortured. â€�“What do you want?” he asked me.

â€�“Um... Hi!” I said brightly. â€�“I’m Natasha Osborne, and you are?” I stretched out my hand for him to shake.

He ignored my hand. â€�“Draco Malfoy,” he replied, and went back to his drink.

â€�“So... you go to Hogwarts?” I asked, trying to strike up a conversation. Draco, however, did not seem interested.

â€�“Yes,” he replied shortly.

â€�“Which house? I haven’t started yet, so I thought... you know, I’d ask you about them... ” I trailed off, noticing that he wasn’t listening. I got annoyed.

Oi,” I said irritably. â€�“I’m talking, you know.”

He looked at me and scowled. â€�“Did I ask you to?”

I scoffed. â€�“Excuse me? You’re in my house! I just thought I’d make you feel more at home, seeing as you were sitting all alone, but no, you just act arrogant as if you have better stuff to do!”

â€�“I have better stuff to do,” he prompted, looking at me coldly. â€�“I wouldn’t have come anyway, but my father forced me to. He thinks if we mix with more people we’d gain back our respect and pride. Who’d have come otherwise?”

â€�“Tosser,” I said, and stormed off. When I reached Revlyn, I said, â€�“Who the hell was that?”

â€�“Draco Malfoy, an arrogant, snobbish bully at Hogwarts. He’s also in Slytherin. His father was a Death Eater, but they scarpered when Voldemort tried to take over Hogwarts. The war, Tash,” she added, noticing my confused look. â€�“I would like to see how he goes strutting about the castle bullying people this year, what with his family losing half their wealth. I don’t think Uncle Kevin knows about Draco’s dad either; he wouldn’t have called them if he knew that they were undergoing trial.”

â€�“Sounds like most of the Slytherins are bad,” I commented. Zabini, Malfoy... neither were good, according to Revlyn.

â€�“Most of them are. None of the witches and wizards who are bad belonged to any other house except Slytherin.”

â€�“Right,” I said. â€�“So I choose not to go to Slytherin when I go to Hogwarts.”

Revlyn smirked at me and said, â€�“Good choice.”

Revlyn and I walked away from the bar, when Bri stomped towards us, her face flushed with anger.

â€�“That bloody, arrogant, annoying little git!” she hissed under her breath.

â€�“What’s wrong?” I asked.

â€�“It’s - it’s that Beanie boy!” exclaimed Bri. â€�“He is so… annoying!”

â€�“What’d he do?” asked Revlyn inquisitively.

â€�“Quidditch!”

Revlyn looked confused. I sighed; Bri hated Quidditch, after all. She couldn’t even stand the name.

â€�“What’s wrong with that?” asked Revlyn.

â€�“What - what’s wrong with it? I hate it, that’s what’s wrong with it!” Bri exclaimed indignantly.

â€�“You hate Quidditch?” Revlyn said incredulously.

â€�“Yes, I do,” agreed Bri. â€�“Don’t tell me you like it,” she added, frowning.

â€�“Of course I do! I love Quidditch! I’m the Chaser for my house team,” stated Revlyn.

â€�“UGH! How can you people like such a stupid game! It’s just a dumb game where people fly around in brooms throwing big, red balls to each other!” Bri complained.

â€�“It is not a stupid game! It symbolises wizard sportsmanship and - ” started Revlyn.

â€�“Whatever, it’s boring,” interrupted Bri.

â€�“Have you even played Quidditch?” Revlyn retorted.

â€�“Er… guys?” I piped up, trying to break the feud starting between my cousin and my best friend in vain.

â€�“Why would I even want to play Quiddi - ”

â€�“You’re making blind accusations - ”

â€�“ME? You’re the one who’s arguing about a stupid game - ”

â€�“Stupid game? Quidditch is not a stupid - ”

â€�“It is a very idiotic game that doesn’t require any logic, reasoning or strategy - ”

â€�“How would you know that? You haven’t even played!”

â€�“Any intellectual would know that -”

â€�“Are you calling me dumb?”

â€�“Are you calling me ignorant?”

I sighed. This would continue for ages…

Many days passed since the party, and soon it was the twentieth of August. I never got to notice how time flew by; most of my time passed by at Bri’s, where Bri and I explored her huge, mansion-like house. There was a spacious front lawn and backyard - she even had her own maze made from low hedges! I found myself envying her a lot. The house itself was much more brilliant on the inside. The rooms were cavernous, filled with many elegant furniture, lush carpets that one’s feet would sink into and gold-plated picture frames that held paintings of Bri’s ancestors and other sceneries. We spent a whole day searching for trap-doors and secret passages; without much luck, though. The only hidden passage we found was one leading from the servant’s quarters to the kitchen. Not to mention the only underground room hidden from prying eyes was the cellar to keep vegetables and flour and other groceries. It was such a shame.

That morning, however, I was at my own place. My family and I were sitting at the dining table eating breakfast, when an owl tapped loudly on a window.

â€�“Get it, please, Tash,” Dad said, not removing his eyes from his bacon and eggs.

I nodded and went towards the window, unlatching it and allowing the owl to hop in. It was a handsome tawny owl with a dignified air about it. It looked quite official. I took the letter from the owl, which then ruffled its feathers importantly and took flight after taking a sip from the bowl of water on the window sill (it was kept especially for owls). I shuffled back to the table, expecting it to be for Dad, but when I turned it over I saw that it was actually for me.

NATASHA OSBORNE
NUMBER SIXTEEN, BRYTLEE PLACE
BIRMINGHAM

â€�“What is it?” Mum asked as she scooped up her empty bowl and went over to the sink.

â€�“I dunno, but it’s for me,” I replied. I turned it over again and saw a seal: a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake, all congregated around an â€�“H”. Shrugging, I handed the letter to Mum.

She saw the seal and broke into a smile. Looking at Dad, who now had the Morning Prophet open in front of him, she said, â€�“Oh, Kev, its Tash’s Hogwarts letter.”

â€�“What?” said Dad, and he folded the paper and strode over to Mum to get a better look. â€�“It is!” he said, smiling. â€�“Well, Tash, You are now officially a Hogwarts student. We better go and get your things now.”

I smiled, wondering what sort of books and all we would have at Hogwarts. I couldn’t wait to see my new robes - and of course, my new Quidditch uniform, as I’d definitely be trying out for my House team. Taking the letter from Mum, I tore it open and took out the letter. On it was written:


HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall
Order of Merlin, Third Class

Dear Ms Osborne,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your transfer certificate has been accepted and your previous records have been transferred over from your former school. You have now been enrolled in our list of Seventh-year NEWT students. Please find enclosed a list of all the Necessary equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We expect your owl by no later than 31st July.

Yours sincerely
Filius Flitwick
Deputy Headmaster


I dropped that letter onto the kitchen counter and took out another one. This looked like the booklist.


Advanced Transfiguration by Amelia Shiftright
A Course in Advanced Potion Making by Plexas Andronus
A Higher Course in Herbology by Clemens Haddling
Defensive spells and Theory by Drona Galdrag
Higher Level Magical Theory by Janice Fontaine
Advanced Arithmancy by Albert Edsonus


I guess the staff knew which subjects I had from my old records, for they included only those books which I would need.

â€�“So let’s go get the books, then,” I told my parents. â€�“We can find them here in Birmingham, right?”

Dad shook his head. â€�“We have to go to London, actually.”

â€�“All the way back to London?” I asked incredulously. â€�“Why, aren’t there any Wizarding shops in town? Birmingham was a pretty big place last time I checked.” Back in Australia, most of the Wizarding shops were in the normal shopping areas. You just needed to know which shops to go to.

â€�“Wizarding London is so much better, Tash,” Mum said, her blue eyes twinkling. â€�“You’ll get to see a side of Wizarding Britain you’ll never forget. Diagon Alley is one of the best places in the world.”

â€�“I’d really like to see how much it’s changed,” Dad said. â€�“I wonder if Old Fortescue is still running his ice cream shop. Do you remember it, Cass?”

Mum laughed. â€�“Of course, how can I ever forget?” She winked at me and said, â€�“That’s where your Dad proposed to me. I can still remember the look on his face when he dropped the ring into my smoothie.”

â€�“Hey, that was a mistake,” Dad said irritably, his black eyes glaring at Mum, while I laughed out loud. Mum just walked over to Dad and pecked him on the cheek, smiling brightly. Dad instantly brightened and kissed her on top of her head, ruffling her blonde hair.

â€�“Right, if you guys are done, can we go now?” I asked, rolling my eyes. My parents could be pretty mushy sometimes, though I loved it, it sometimes tended to get... awkward.

Still grinning, Dad strode over to the fireplace. He took a pinch of Floo Powder and threw it in the fire, which turned emerald green. He stepped inside and said, â€�“Diagon Alley!” before vanishing in the swirling green flames.

â€�“After you, dear,” Mum said. â€�“And don’t forget to pronounce the words clearly; you never know where you’d end up.”

â€�“Yes, Mum,” I said as I walked towards the fireplace. I took the floo powder and threw it in the fire, which turned green. Stepping inside, I said, â€�“Diagon Alley!”

Floo sucks,I thought as I spun all the way, coughing due to all the soot, to the Leaky Cauldron. Spluttering, I stumbled out of the grate.

I looked at my surroundings. We were apparently in a pub. There were lots of tables and chairs, and people occupied most of them, chattering with each other. At the counter was an old bartender, who was wiping glasses and talking to a man wearing a long pointed hat. There was a rickety staircase on one side of the room, leading upstairs.

There was a whooshing noise behind me as green flames erupted again and my mum stepped out, looking unabashed. Behind her, the flames returned to their normal orange and red.

â€�“Welcome, Tash,” announced Dad, gesturing around him, â€�“to the Leaky Cauldron.”

â€�“The Leaky Cauldron?” I asked, looking around, with an eyebrow raised.

â€�“Yep. It’s a pub in England. My mates and I used to come here often when we were younger. â€�“That’s the bartender, Tom. I can’t believe he’s still here after all these years.”

Mum poked him in the shoulder. â€�“Hurry!”

Dad led us to a small back door and pushed it open. Behind was nothing but a small alley with a dead end. The only thing in there were a few dustbins filled with garbage.

â€�“Why are we here?” I asked, puzzled.

Dad said nothing and pulled out his wand. He made some quick counting and tapped a certain brick. I watched, awestruck, as the bricks all moved and formed an archway, leading into a very busy street.

It was one of the most fascinating places I had ever seen. Lining the street were shops of various shapes, colours and sizes, and the cobbled pathway was crowded with chattering people. It was quite noisy; the sound of all the bargaining, the whining of little children, and the screeching of animals were all mingled together, forming a deep buzzing sound like a swarm of angry bees. There were shops for cauldrons, shops for potion ingredients, pet shops, clothes shops - everything. There were brightly couloured posters and banners hung all around, some of which flashed. Small fireworks exploded above us, showing everyone with sparks. I remembered the wizarding shops in Australia, and instantly thought that this place was a lot different, a lot livelier, and a lot better.

â€�“Like it?” Dad asked, smiling at my expression.

â€�“Yeah,” I replied, looking all around me.

â€�“Oi, Tash!” I heard a familiar voice call. Turning around, I saw Revlyn pushing through the crowd and beckoned me towards her.

â€�“Rev!” I said, grinning. â€�“Are you here to shop too? Why don’t we go together?”

â€�“Sure. I’m almost done, but I’ll be glad to tag along,” replied Revlyn.

â€�“Great!”

Walking over to Mum and Dad, I told them that Revlyn and I were going shop together. Mum didn’t seem to like the idea of me roaming in an unknown place, but Revlyn persuaded her by telling her that she knew the place by heart and that nothing would happen. So in the end, Mum and Dad went to shop for my books, while Revlyn and I headed towards a Quidditch store, a place we both loved.

While I was browsing through the different brands of Quidditch cleaning kits, Revlyn suddenly waved to someone looking in through the window. He was a tall and lanky boy with sandy brown hair. He waved back at Revlyn and then turned away from the window and walked in through the door.

â€�“Tash, meet Chris Carrington, a fellow Ravenclaw, and my friend,” Revlyn introduced me to the boy. â€�“Chris, this is my cousin, Natasha Osborne.”

Chris flashed a dazzling grin at me and I nodded back, smiling. â€�“Nice to meet you,” I said.

â€�“Same here,” he said. His voice was deep.

â€�“So, wanna go see the new brooms?” I asked Revlyn.

â€�“Er…actually, I’m sorta done with my shopping, and I promised Chris that we’d be spending some time together. We haven’t seen each other for a long time,” Revlyn said hesitantly.

I got the hint; apparently, my I-don’t-have-anything-to-do-with-boys cousin had a crush she wasn’t telling me about. â€�“Alright, I’ll be going then. I’m done checking the Quidditch stores anyway. I’ll see you two later.”

â€�“Okay, bye,” Revlyn said, grinning at me. She looked relieved.

I said goodbye to them both and shook hands with Chris and left the store, deciding to roam the streets by myself for a while and look at the shops. There was one called Twilfit and Tattings, which was full of different coloured robes. I looked at them for a while, but found nothing interesting; I had enough dress robes as it is. I then looked inside the pet shop, but I didn’t buy anything. I kept walking again, until I finally came to a stop in front of a shop called Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. For a while I just stared at the windows, spellbound.

The left window was full of an astounding collection of goods, which sparkled, jumped, spun and glimmered. There were lights and mini-explosions everywhere, and the name of the shop was painted in colours which changed constantly. On the other hand, the right hand window were full of a variety of posters, which bore the names of loads of the goods, like Skiving Snackboxes, U-No-Poo, and Reusable Hangman to name some.

I just had to get into the shop. The moment I opened the door, two large bells chimed on top of my head and tiny little fairies fluttered above me. Grinning I stepped into the crowded shop.

Inside was much more brilliant than I imagined. Large shelves were stacked from top to bottom with various colourful boxes. On the floor, there was a bin full of jelly-like things in packets. Edible Dark Marks the labels on them read. Another bin was full of what looked like wands. Without even reading the labels I could guess that these were fake ones.

â€�“Hey there,” a voice materialized behind me suddenly. I jumped and whirled around to see a good-looking boy in his late teens with red hair and lots of freckles. He was wearing dark red robes that went perfectly with his shoulder-length hair. He had a big smile on his face.

â€�“Need any help?” said another voice, this time behind me as well. I turned around and say another boy exactly like him, this one wearing light brown robes. I stared.

â€�“I’m Fred -” said the previous one.

â€�“And I’m George -”

â€�“And we are the owners of -”

â€�“The Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” they both finished together.

â€�“Oh,” I said, realizing they were probably twins. â€�“It’s a… neat shop you’ve got here,” I said, smiling.

"Oh, look, Fred!" one of them said, grinning. "We've got ourselves a foreign customer!"

"Right you are, George," his twin said, scrutinizing me from top to bottom, as if I was an alien. "Sounds like an Aussie to me."

"So, fair foreigner, what would you like to take as a souvenir?” the one named George said, puffing out his chest proudly and motioning with his hand towards all the items on display. â€�“We've got a great collection of products here -- starting from daily supplies for an average prankster trying to liven up his school day to decoys and distractions for going out on excursions after curfew."

â€�“Or on a more serious note, you can buy defence supplies that might help you out of certain nifty situations that may or may not involve Dark Wizards,” his twin, Fred added in an undertone, looking solemn. â€�“Of course, that corner is near the back.”

I had to admit I loved the shop and I didn’t want to leave this place without buying anything. â€�“All of this stuff looks fantastic,” I said. â€�“I’ll look around and let you know if I find anything.”

â€�“Alright then,” Fred said. â€�“We’ll be around, so just give us a shout.” He summoned a basket from a stack beside the entrance and handed it to me.

â€�“I will,” I promised. The twins grinned, bowed so low that I thought that their spines would crack, and then rushed away towards another throng of new customers.

I could use some of these stuff in Hogwarts, I thought, browsing through the assortments of Skiving Snackboxes. If I ever felt like skipping any classes, I’d just pop one of them in mouth and voila, whole period of freedom. However, I thought, reading the labels, the Nosebleed Nougats would give me an actual nosebleed and the Puking Pastilles would really make me vomit. Not wanting to feel blood dribble down my nose, and especially not wanting to throw up my guts in front of my classmates, I decided to go with the simple Fainting Fancies. I picked up a box and threw it in the basket.

I also bought a couple of random stuff like the Reusable Hangman (Bri and I loved to play Hangman in classes, especially History of Magic, which could be a bore sometimes), a fake wand to annoy Mum with, and some Muggle playing cards. I was just about to go into one of the back rooms when I bumped into someone pretty hard. I went backwards and tripped over my own foot, landing on the floor on my arse. My basket went flying and landed on the ground with a clatter, making all the things in it fall out.

â€�“Ow,” I hissed, wincing.

â€�“Hey - are you okay? I’m sorry, I should have watched my step; you’re not hurt, are you?”

It was a teenage boy with messy jet-black hair and a thin face. Under the round glasses he wore were brilliant emerald green eyes. Beneath his fringe, I could make out a thin scar on his forehead. It was shaped like a lightning bolt. He looked vaguely familiar, like...

Then it clicked. I was looking at Harry Potter, the saviour of Wizarding Britain.

Beside him was a tall and lanky boy standing beside him. He had the same shade of red hair like the twins and a freckled face; they could have been brothers. Then I remembered seeing him in the papers too; I guessed he was Ron Weasley, Potter’s best friend.

Still wincing in pain, I stood up, rubbing my arse. â€�“Yeah. I’m okay,” I mumbled, looking at Harry Potter with big eyes, glancing at his scar again. He must have noticed this, because he looked uncomfortable. Trying not to make it awkward, I bent down to pick up my stuff from the ground. I threw them into the basket and stood up straight. â€�“It was my fault, I should have looked.”

â€�“No, that’s okay,” he said.

I smiled, trying not to look too gaga. Merlin knew he’d think that I was one of those pratty fangirls if I had a toothy grin on my face. â€�“Anyway, I better go - my parents are waiting. Catch ya later.” With another small smile, I turned around and walked away. As I was leaving, I was sure I heard Weasley telling him, â€�“Harry, that’s probably the only girl who hasn’t fawned over you at you all summer!”

I giggled.

---

I met my parents back near Gringotts, the towering structure made of white marble.

â€�“Did you get anything?” Dad asked me as we started walking towards the pub. Walking through the crowd was much harder this time due to the fact that we were laden with heavy shopping bags.

I nodded. â€�“There’s this great joke shop called the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. They sell the most brilliant stuff there. Fake wands, Skiving Snackboxes, just name it.”

â€�“Fake wands I understand, but what are Skiving Snackboxes?” Mum asked curiously. â€�“Don’t tell me they are things to skive classes with.”

Dang, I couldn’t believe I let it slip. The damage was done, however. â€�“Well, Mum, its --”

â€�“You didn’t buy them, did you?”

â€�“Well, Mum, its --” I started for the second time.

â€�“You will not take them to Hogwarts with you. I will not receive letters of you skiving classes again --”

â€�“Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, you say?” Dad said suddenly, attempting to change the subject. I loved my father.

â€�“Yeah, the owners were two twins.”

â€�“The Weasleys are a really nice family. The twins must be Molly and Arthur’s, Cass, remember them? I can’t believe they’ve grown up so much that they got their own shop!”

â€�“Well, they were devilish little blighters, if you ask me,” Mum said, forgetting about her tirade for a while. â€�“Remember when Molly brought them along for dinner once? The older boys were so polite and the youngest one was such an angel, but those two three-year-olds nearly destroyed the living room. Trust me, the joke shop sounds like the perfect career for them.”

Dad laughed.

â€�“Guess who else I met today?” I said.

â€�“Who?” Dad asked curiously.

â€�“Harry Potter!” I said enthusiastically. â€�“I bumped into him in the twins’ shop.”

Mum gasped and held my father’s hand tightly. Dad’s eyes were wide. â€�“You - you met -”

â€�“Yeah, and he’s not really that stuck-up, you know? He seemed nice.”

Dad managed a weak smile. He squeezed Mum’s hands tightly, and she glanced at him. He looked at her and gave her an almost imperceptible jerk of his head - something that struck me as a bit odd.

â€�“That’s good,” Mum said. â€�“So Tash, do you want a new broom?”

My eyes widened, the muted conversation between my parents forgotten. A new broom? Now? â€�“Yes!”

â€�“Come on, I’ll get you a Nimbus two thousand and five,” Dad said, pulling me towards the Sports Shop while Mum shuffled behind us. â€�“It just came out last week.”

Today was the best day ever.

â€�“Clothes?”

â€�“Yes, Mum.”

â€�“Books?”

â€�“Yes, Mum.”

â€�“Wand?”

â€�“Yes, Mum!”

God, the way she treated me, it seemed like I was an eleven-year-old going to school for the first time.

It was the first of September. The weather outside was sunny and warm, with a slight breeze blowing in through the window, causing the curtains to ripple. Everything outside was perfectly calm. The birds chirped happily, enjoying the serenity that was spread over the meadows.

If only the birds could see the utter chaos ensuing through our house.

Even though I was completely packed and ready to leave, Mum had a feeling I was leaving all my stuff behind. Every now and then she would look under the sofa to try and find a book, leaving the cushions upturned, or else rummage through the kitchen cabinet drawers looking for my spare quills. A few seconds ago, she had just managed to scrabble through the freshly laundered clothes to try and find my sweatshirts.

â€�“Look at the mess you’ve made me make,” she grumbled, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at the jumbled up clothes. â€�“Who’s going to clean that when we get home?”

â€�“Well, I didn’t ask you to mess them up, did I?” I retorted. â€�“I already said - ”

â€�“Ladies, can we please leave now?” Dad said poking his head into the laundry room, a look of exasperation etched across his face. â€�“We have less than ten minutes before the train leaves!”

I picked up my trunk (which Mum had brought along into the room) and marched towards Dad. â€�“Yes, Mum, please let’s go.”

â€�“Fine, but if you leave something behind, don’t expect me to owl it back to you,” Mum muttered as she followed us into the living room.

â€�“So, how do we get to the station? We go by train as usual, right?”

Dad nodded. â€�“We Apparate to King’s Cross.”

Well, at least it’s not the Floo.

I held onto Dad’s arm with one hand and grabbed my trunk with the other. Mum clutched Dad’s other arm. Dad twisted on the spot as I managed to take a last look around the house. After the familiar yet uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a toothpaste tube had passed, I opened my eyes.

A huge, scarlet steam engine stood on the tracks, belching white smoke over the people. There was a general buzzing noise as people chattered to one another. A group of teenagers stood huddled around one another, catching up on the latest gossip. A small first-year was nervously clutching onto his father’s hand, staring at the train in wonder as his mother fussed over his clothes. Parents were hugging their kids goodbye, making them promise to write as soon as they reached Hogwarts, whereas others children were pushing through the crowd, trying to find their friends. I felt like I was back at Sydney Central Station, going back to Eduvene after the summer break.

â€�“Tash!”

I whipped around and saw Bri rushing towards me, looking annoyed.

â€�“Where were you?” she asked. â€�“We’ve been waiting for ten minutes; how long does it take for you to get ready?”

â€�“Less than you,” I retorted, grinning. â€�“Mum went berserk and decided to turn the whole house up-side-down to search for stuff I was leaving behind.”

Bri rolled her eyes. Behind her, our parents were shaking hands and catching up. Holding Aunt Camilla’s hand was a Bri’s eleven-year-old brother, Nate. Just like Bri’s dad, Nate had this slightly wild look about him, like a young lion cub. However, the usually cheerful and animated brown-haired kid was looking pretty nervous right now.

â€�“Hey Nate,” I said, walking up to him and ruffling his hair. This had the desired effect; he scowled at me and said, â€�“Oi!” Nate hated it when anyone treated him like a kid.

â€�“Why the long face?” I asked.

â€�“I’m not sad,” he said, although his nervous look was back. I smiled as I remembered the first time I was going to Eduvene. I was too worried about how everything would be in the new environment that nothing anyone else said made a difference. Even though my parents had tried to tell me everything was going to be okay, I didn’t believe them. I felt that Nate was going through the same thing.

â€�“Don’t worry, it’s all going to be fine,” I said. â€�“Don’t think about it too much. Instead, why don’t you think about how awesome it’s going to be that you’re finally going to a Wizarding school? You got your wand and your books; you’ll finally get to do magic!”

Nate smiled a bit and shrugged.

I grinned and left him to it. There wasn’t anything else I could say to him, after all. I went over to Bri.

â€�“Done trying to cheer the kid up?” she asked, amused.

â€�“I might have managed a bit,” I admitted.

The train let out another huge belch of smoke as a whistle sounded.

â€�“Girls, get on the train, quick!” Aunt Camilla said hurriedly. I rushed over to my parents and hugged them tightly, promising that I’d write soon and told them to take care. Bri and Nate were saying goodbye to their own family. Mum was sniffling as Dad looked at me proudly. â€�“I’m glad to see you finally going to Hogwarts,” he said. â€�“Make us proud.”

â€�“I will,” I promised. My parents kissed me on the cheeks from both sides as I hugged them again. I rushed towards the train and heaved my trunk onto it as Bri pulled from the other said, having boarded the train already. I managed to jump on right as the train started to move. I turned back and looked out of the open door and waved at our parents. They waved back enthusiastically.

â€�“Bye!” I yelled. I caught a last, fleeting glimpse of my parents smiling and waving as the train rounded a corner, finally blocking them from view. I dropped my hands and turned to face Bri.

â€�“We are finally off to Hogwarts,” I said.

â€�“Yeah,” Bri said, grinning. â€�“Let’s get some seats.”

We trudged along the aisle as the train swayed beneath our feet. Many people jostled past us, pushing and shoving. I looked back at Bri, who seemed to be getting annoyed. She hated being in cramped places. We found a compartment full of what looked like some first year students, and told Nate to stay there while Bri and I got another compartment.


â€�“Tash! Over here!”


I swivelled my head around to search for the familiar voice. I soon found the source - Revlyn was sticking her head out of a compartment, beckoning us inside. I grabbed Bri’s hand and dragged her towards Revlyn. After a while of tugging her through the crowd we finally found ourselves inside Revlyn’s compartment. Panting, I plopped down on one of the seats.

Bri took her seat beside me, muttering darkly and running her fingers through her hair to untangle them. I looked around the compartment; it was relatively empty, except for Revlyn and Chris Carrington, the sandy-haired boy I’d seen with Revlyn back in Diagon Alley.

â€�“Hi again, Tash,” he said, smiling at me.

â€�“G’day,” I said, grinning back.

Revlyn, whose hair was as frizzy as ever, closed the door and sat beside him looking at me and Bri with amused expressions. â€�“You look messed up,” she said.

â€�“There are way too many people out there,” I said, leaning backwards. â€�“Imagine getting through this crowd.”

â€�“Too right,” Bri grumbled. â€�“Our school is much bigger, but even our train’s not as crowded as this one.”

Chris was looking at Bri curiously; I realized that he didn’t know who she was. â€�“Chris, this is Briallen Warwick,” I said, introducing her to Chris.

â€�“I can introduce myself, thank you,” she told me irritably. She stretched out her hand towards Chris, who shook it.

â€�“Chris Carrington,” he said.

â€�“Nice to meet you,” Bri replied.

As Chris and Revlyn started to talk, I walked over to my trunk - which had been lying uselessly in front of the door - and heaved it up onto the luggage racks above (and then I lifted Bri’s trunk too, that lazy idiot). I then plunked down onto the seat.

â€�“How are you, Tash?” Revlyn asked, looking at me.

â€�“I’m good,” I replied. â€�“How long is it going to take to reach Hogwarts?”

â€�“We’ll be there by nightfall,” she said.

Revlyn and I began talking about Hogwarts, Quidditch, family and everything in general. As time passed Bri’s mood became considerably better and she joined in, too. Revlyn tried to avoid Quidditch as much as possible around Bri, though; I guessed she didn’t want a recurrence of what had happened in the party at my house. Chris was quite fun to talk with, though. He was rather funny, cracking jokes now and then. It felt like I’d known him for a long time. He was, I learned, his house’s Quidditch Captain. When I told him that I had been a player in my old house team, he grinned and told me that if I ended up in Ravenclaw he’d find me a place on the squad.

I scowled mentally as I realized that I’d have been Captain had I not left Eduvene.

The food trolley came by, at around two in the afternoon and I bought myself a heap of Chocolate Frogs and any assorted lollies I could find. Sadly, they didn’t have the Tingling Toffees or Apple Custards that I liked so much. They did, however, have many other sweets including Treacle Tarts, Liquorice wands and Bertie Botts Every-Flavour Beans. Eager to try out one of those, I bought a jar.

â€�“Oh, I don’t think you want that one,” Revlyn warned when I was about to pop one of the black ones in my mouth. â€�“That one is pepper.”

â€�“Pepper?” I said incredulously, scrutinizing the little bean. Surely it couldn’t be pepper? I mean it was a sweet.

â€�“Oh, they mean every-flavour,” she replied. â€�“Try avoiding the brown ones and the greenish-gray ones too.”

Bri, who had just bitten into a brown bean, gagged. â€�“It’s bloody earwax!” she shrieked.

I sniggered, which earned me another swat on the head.

After that, Bri seemed to veer away from any odd coloured beans, eating only a few of the mainstream colours, like pink or violet. I, on the other hand, dug into every sort of sweet I could find. The Chocolate Frogs were my absolute favourite; not only did they taste scrumptious, they also contained famous wizard cards. As the afternoon rolled by I had managed to collect a small pile of the cards - they included Agrippa, Merlin, Elfrida Clagg, Cliodne, Dumbledore and a lot more whose names I had already forgotten.

Looking at my watch I saw that it was almost four in the afternoon. Chris was talking to Revlyn in hushed tones, and I noticed that she was blushing. Bri was resting her head against the window, her eyes closed. Not wanting to disturb Revlyn, I poked Bri and said, â€�“I’m bored.”

â€�“Go to sleep,” Bri mumbled without opening her eyes.

I took up her advice and curled up on the seat, trying to doze off. The next thing I knew, Bri was poking me with her wand.

It was much darker than before and the corridor outside had been lit with torches. It was already evening. Chris, Revlyn and Bri had already changed into their robes; I had to admit that Bri looked a tad odd in the black robes - or maybe that was because I was used to seeing her in white ones all the time.

â€�“We’re nearly there, slowpoke,” Bri said. â€�“Change quickly.”

Getting my trunk from the rack overhead, I took out my new robes and proceeded to pull them on. Feeling an odd sensation of déjà vu, I remembered the time I first put on my Eduvene robes. I was so happy and was gushing on and on about it, Bri had to pretend to puke on my robes before I shut up. My old robes were always warm and fuzzy and soft. These were… well, they were not my old robes.

I think Bri sensed my mood, for she said, â€�“Well, at least they match with your hair.”

â€�“And yours don’t,” I laughed. â€�“Opposite of before.”

I could feel the train slow down and, gradually, it screeched to a halt. Outside in the isle, someone was yelling, â€�“First years come out first! No pushing and shoving!”

I was about to reach for my trunk when Chris stopped me. â€�“Leave them here, they’ll be taken up to your rooms soon enough.”

Shrugging, I stepped out of the compartment along with the others. The aisle was already packed with people. Slowly, the line edged forwards until finally we were able to jump out of the train.

â€�“Firs’ years, this way! Over here, firs’ years!” called a loud, booming voice. I looked around for the source, and my eyes landed on the largest person I had ever seen. He was probably twice Bri’s height and had a large, protruding belly. His huge face was covered by tangled black hair and a beard, giving him a very wild look.

I looked at Bri. â€�“Do we go to him? We are kind of new here.”

â€�“Okay,” she shrugged. So we trudged up towards the giant man, who seemed to be chatting with some people while herding the first-years towards him.

â€�“Excuse me, sir,” I said. â€�“This is our first year at Hogwarts and we’re not really sure where we are supposed to be going, so -”

â€�“Ah, so yer the two new students McGonagall was talkin’ abou’, aren’t yeh?” he said warmly. â€�“Welcome ter Hogwarts! I was jus’ tellin’ Hermione here what ter do with yeh.” He motioned towards a girl with bushy brown hair who seemed to be about our age. She smiled warmly at us, and I noticed that she had a badge pinned on her chest. â€�“McGonagall told me ter send yeh up to her office. I spec’ they’ll be doing yer Sortin’ there.”

â€�“Thank you,” I said.

Beside us, Revlyn and Chris had arrived. â€�“Come along, you two can travel up to Hogwarts with us,” Revlyn said. â€�“We’ll take them up Professor McGonagall’s office, Hagrid.”

â€�“All righ’ then,” he said, and waved before continuing to call the first-years towards him. I saw Nate hurrying towards him, chatting animatedly with a sandy-haired boy. I pointed this to Bri, who smiled and said, â€�“I guess the kid found a mate already.”

Revlyn and Chris took us towards a large carriage. These carriages, however, didn’t seem to be drawn by anything, though; I wondered how they were supposed to take us to the castle.

Revlyn stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. â€�“Thestrals,” she whispered before I could ask her what was wrong. She glanced towards Chris, who said grimly, â€�“I know, I see them too.”

Bri gasped, realization dawning on her. â€�“The carriages are drawn by Thestrals, aren’t they?”

Revlyn nodded. â€�“You can’t see them, can you?”

â€�“No. What are they?” I asked.

â€�“Winged horses,” she replied, looking solemn. â€�“You can’t see them unless you see someone die.”

I gasped. Invisible unless you see someone die? Did that mean they had had seen -

â€�“We saw so many people die during the war," Revlyn said in a small voice. â€�“I didn’t realize we would be able to see the Thestrals now.”

Bri and I seemed to have intruded upon a private moment. Without saying anything, we climbed in after Revlyn and Chris. The ride up to the castle passed in silence, except for the sound of the wheels against the rocky path. Trying to ignore the thick environment, I looked out of the window. The view outside was breathtaking.

The towering castle loomed ahead, its many turrets and towers reaching up to the skies. Behind it was a backdrop of tall mountains, their tips capped with snow. Thousands of tiny pricks of light were set against the stone battlement of the castle - windows, I assumed. I counted seven rows from top to bottom, meaning there were seven floors in all, not counting the top of the towers. Towards the right of the path we were travelling in was a huge lake, its glassy surface mirroring the starry night sky overhead. I could see a small fleet of boats in it, gliding across the surface towards the castle like pond-skaters.

The whole scene was, in one word, gorgeous.

I turned to look at Bri, who had the same expression of awe etched across her face. â€�“This is prettier than Eduvene,” she breathed. I agreed with her.

Up ahead was a pair of splendid wrought-iron gates, flanked with stone columns. On top of each column was a stone carving of a winged boar. As the carriage rattle through the gates, Revlyn grinned at me. â€�“Welcome, Tash, to Hogwarts.”

The carriage accelerated up the sloping path before slowing down as it neared the castle. As it jerked to a halt near a small flight of stone steps, we climbed out of it. I grinned at Bri, who smiled back at me. We’re finally here, I thought, looking up at the towering stone structure. Behind us, the carriage started to move along the path away from the castle. We walked up the steps and joined the rest of the crowd through a pair of magnificent oak front doors.

We entered into a huge, cavernous chamber. I gaped around the room; the walls were lined with flaming torches, making our shadows look like lofty giants. Directly in front of us was a grand marble staircase that presumably led to the upper floors. Flanking the large staircase were two smaller ones that led to a floor below us. On the left wall, between two doors, were tiny names etched in stone. The calligraphic heading read, Martyrs at the Battle of Hogwarts.

â€�“They’ve done a brilliant job rebuilding the castle,” Revlyn was telling Chris, who nodded. â€�“Looks as good as new.”

The crowd was heading towards another door on the right. Revlyn, however, pulled us towards the opposite direction. Chris made to follow, but she said, â€�“No, you go along, I’ll drop them off at McGonagall’s office and join you.” As Chris nodded and walked away, we followed Revlyn up the marble staircase and along a corridor. Revlyn found a flight of steps leading upwards and we climbed up after her. Five minutes later we found ourselves in front of a stone gargoyle standing halfway along an empty corridor.

â€�“Er…” Revlyn looked lost.

â€�“What?” Bri asked, puzzled.

â€�“I don’t know the password,” Revlyn admitted sheepishly, looking at the floor.

I felt like hitting her with a club.

â€�“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bri muttered, staring at the ugly gargoyle. It sat there, motionless, still as a rock.

Which it was.

Then to my great surprise, the gargoyle moved aside, revealing a large, rotating stone staircase that was moving downwards like those Muggle escalators Bri and I saw in the shopping malls.

Beside me, Revlyn looked relieved. â€�“I think someone’s coming down,” she said.

Sure enough, a tall woman dressed in emerald green robes came into view. Her face was lined and her lips were thin. Her hair was tied in a tight bun at the base of her neck, and a tall, crooked hat was perched on top of her head. She looked very strict.

Seeing us standing in front of the staircase, she frowned slightly. â€�“Miss Harlow, what are you doing here? Won’t you go to the start of term feast?”

â€�“Yes, Professor McGonagall,” Revlyn said. â€�“I came to escort Natasha and Briallen to your office. They’re the new students, Professor, and they didn’t know which way your office was.”

So this was Professor McGonagall, the headmistress. She looked at Bri and me with a curious expression before saying, â€�“Thank you, Miss Harlow. I’ll take it from here. You may go.”

Rev wished us good luck before turning and walking off in the other direction.

â€�“Welcome to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Professor McGonagall said. â€�“We’ve been looking forwards to meeting you. Now if you would please come with me to my office.” She turned on her heels and stepped on the stone staircase, which began to rotate again. As she was taken up, I looked at Bri and grinned.

â€�“Come on,” she said.

Together, Bri and I stepped onto the staircase and went up towards the headmistress’s office.