“...and then, Harrison forgot to give me the papers!”
“Oh dear!” Miranda gasped.
“It was a complete mess. But I managed to get it straightened out eventually,” Edward said after a sip of coffee, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
In was a Thursday morning breakfast in the Ellis household and all the house’s occupants were seated around the breakfast table.
“Well,” Hera announced, setting down her fork. “I’m done.”
Miranda looked at her plate disapprovingly. “But Hera, dear. You’ve barely touched your omelet!”
Miranda had persuaded Philip to make breakfast for them (although Hera was baffled at the reason why) and the results lay on her untouched plate. She fought back the urge to say something like, “I haven’t touched it because it tastes like tar!” and instead settled for, “I’m not really hungry.”
“Don’t forget, Hera. You have your maths lesson with Mr Little tomorrow,” Edward reminded her.
“Okay. I’m gonna go outside for a bit.” She stood up and left the dining room.
Philip looked at her in a cautious way over his orange juice.
“Be careful!” Edward called after her from behind his newspaper.
She flew up to her room, snatched up her bag full of spellbooks from its hiding place in her wardrobe and left the house, only stopping on her way towards the Wood to buy a very large chocolate bar at a corner store.
When she reached the edge of the wood, Hera set off at a run, very anxious to learn what Alda had to teach her about potion making. She had never been so eager for knowledge in her entire life. And what was more, she finally felt as if she had found somewhere that she really belonged- now that she had a wand. Most of the people her age thought she was rather stuck up and being home schooled had always hindered her making friends. But none of that mattered now.
She found Alda’s house with ease, as if she had been there a hundred times before, and gladly jogged up and knocked on the wooden door.
“Hello there, Hera!”
Hera nearly jumped out of her sandals for fright. Alda was standing by the side of the house, holding a kettle.
“God- oh! I didn’t see you there, Mrs Belby,” Hera said, blushing a bit.
“Now, none of this Mrs Belby nonsense, you’ll make me feel old. Call me Alda!” Alda said happily.
“Um... Okay- Alda,” Hera replied awkwardly.
“I believe I promised you a Potions lesson, yes?” Alda opened the door and motioned her inside.
Hera did not know what she expected to find inside Alda Belby’s house, but it certainly was not this. To fill out the role of the fairy tale witch living in a small patch of forest, Hera had thought that her house would be a little more exciting. Perhaps smoldering cauldrons, black cats and crystal balls, although she now knew that not all witches were like that (Greta had not touched a crystal ball in her life). Still she found herself mildly disappointed at the plants lining the windows and the patchwork quilt draped over the sofa.
And then, to her great surprise, a little beige ball of fuzz hopped up onto Alda’s shoulder. She gave a little yelp of surprise as a long, thin tongue poked out of it.
“You’ve got a “ um - What’s that on your shoulder?” Hera asked, staring wide-eyed as Alda petted the ball of fuzz.
“Oh, poor dear. Of course you wouldn’t know! This is my Puffskein, Martha.” Alda held Martha out in her hand for Hera to see.
She touched it tentatively. It licked her finger. Hera smiled “A wizarding pet?” she asked.
“Yes, and I barely have to clean anything up, she eats all my scraps.” Alda beamed at the Puffskein before setting her down. “Now, let’s get to work, shall we?”
“What potion are you going to teach me?” Hera asked eagerly.
Alda smiled. “You’re a smart girl, or so Greta tells me. So instead of basic first year potions, let’s do something a bit more difficult.”
An hour later her Pepperup Potion was sitting on the fire. Blasts of steam issued from the cauldron at regular intervals. Hera had quite liked slicing up roots and measuring shiny liquids for the potion, although more then once Alda had had to pull Hera’s face away from a jet of steam.
Hera blew into her mug and then gulped down her tea. Alda was sitting in a rocking chair next to her, and was fiddling around with a wooden wireless.
“How old are you, Hera?” Alda asked absently, tapping the wireless with her wand.
“Seventeen,” Hera answered as music began playing. “My birthday was two weeks ago.”
“That was Celestina Warbeck with Transfigure My Heart. Next on the WWN…”
“Well, you’re of age then!” Alda said, surprised.
“But I’m only seventeen,” Hera told her. A band called Gary and the Ghouls were moaning loudly on the wireless.
The older woman waved away her response. “Seventeen is the legal age for the wizarding world! Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“Do?”
“Your future!” Alda laughed.
Hera’s eyebrows knitted together. She had never really thought of her future in the wizarding world before, all her concentration was spent of simply learning magic.
“I-I don’t know,” she admitted. “My father always wanted me to go to the same university that he did when I’m finished with my home schooling. But there’s no way I’m doing that.”
Alda gave her a kind smile. “It’s alright if you don’t know yet. You have much more magic to learn.” She looked over at the cauldron full of bubbling potion. “Another ten minutes simmering and it’ll be done. Your first official potion!”
Hera smiled. “Thanks for showing me, Alda.”
“Not a problem.” Then, Alda sat up in her chair abruptly, “Oh dear.”
Hera turned around to find herself face to face with what looked like a pearly white reindeer. For the second time today she gave a yelp of surprise and backed up in her seat. Now, from further away, she could it that it was a transparent stag. A kind of spell, maybe.
“What is that?” she asked.
Alda was already up and clasping a cloak around her neck. “No time to explain now. You’re going to have to run along home. Go quickly and stay inside your house.”
“What? But-”
She pushed her to the door. “I need to go handle something,” Alda said sternly.
And since her face had such a strange and fierce look on it Hera asked no more questions and ran all the way home.
The next morning Hera stumbled down the stairs. Her hair was in a jumble, her eyes were half closed and she was sure there was an imprint of a book cover on the side of her face. She had stayed up late practicing magic last night in the safety of her covers and had fallen asleep while doing it. She had not gotten much sleep and intended to go back to bed after eating breakfast.
As usual Philip, Miranda and Edward were seated around the table, but something was different. Everyone was staring at a newspaper spread across the table.
“Wuzzgoinon?” Hera mumbled sleepily, pressing the heel of her hand into her eye to clear her vision.
“More attacks,” Miranda said faintly.
She was instantly awake. She, of course, knew the cause of the attacks from the picture the newspaper provided. What used to be a street of houses lay in ashy ruins, and grotesque skull with a snake winding from its mouth was hanging over it.
Hera snatched up the newspaper.
It seems as if the residents of Greenfield Avenue had been already murdered before their houses were set ablaze.
There are still no leads as to who has been responsible for these strings of attacks but police officials tell us...
Greenfield Avenue... That was near Greta’s house! Hera pushed the newspaper into Phil’s hands and then sped upstairs for a change of clothing and money for a bus.