❝ Tolerance and compassion are qualities of fearless people. ❞ -Paulo Coelho

The days, which I feared would drag, were actually flying by at the blink of an eye. Living with Sibi and Michael was tough in the beginning-they always tried to find a way to make me tell them information about myself, and I caught them talking about me several times when they thought I wasn't around.

But eventually, I got used to it. After all, even this different way of living was a thousand times better than my dull muggle life. Besides, I couldn't be mad at Michael (who said he preferred being called Mike rather than by his full name). He had offered me a place to stay when I was lost and hopeless in the middle of the street, and I liked him way better than Sibi.

There was something about him that made me respect him more than his best friend; perhaps it was the fact that, just like me, he wasn't pretentious and would choose not to tell the truth over lying and not smiling back if he didn't feel like it over flashing a huge false grin like Sibi did.

Even if his sentences were short and his words scarce, he didn't sugarcoat them or use a sickly sweet tone of voice like her. The more we talked, the more comfortable he became around me and his shyness kept diminishing by the day. He'd stutter less, he wouldn't flinch when I passed him by and he was less afraid of expressing himself.

I had also gotten used to many things that happened at Mike's home. Such as the stiff, uncomfortable couch I slept on, the lack of warm water in the bathroom, Sibi's constant questions, the location of the house which was far from any village or city, and even Oswald June's weird disappearances during the day. When I asked Mike where he went, his answer was always the same short and simple one, 'Somewhere'.

That afternoon, after finishing my meal, I decided to explore the garden. Just one look at it and it wasn't difficult to see why Mike came here every summer. The breathtaking sight of the flowerbed was enough to make you fall in a heavenly slumber; from the exquisite pink roses to the chalky white waterlilies that had blossomed in the middle of a small pond. The perfect scenery to sit and meditate in.

"Beautiful out here, isn't it?"

Hearing a girl's voice made me jump up in shock and almost fall off the wooden bench I was sitting on. I turned. Sibi had appeared soundlessly next to me.

The sight of her alone caught me off guard, but it was her words I was utterly taken aback by. Maybe she wanted to find a way to start a conversation, a polite way so as not to annoy me, but her words sounded different this time. Her voice was soothing, but did not carry its usual syrupy tone. There was even a small smile playing at the corners of her lips-soft and genuine, not another one of her fake grins.

"Yeah, it is," I said. "Mike's very lucky."

"That's why I like coming here. Well, of course I like spending time with my best friend. But the house isn't anything extraordinary, you know. But this," she made a sweeping gesture with her hand towards the garden. "Stunning."

I scrutinized her face for a while, her glistening hazel eyes that were taking in the scenery in front of her; her silky golden brown hair that softly draped down her shoulders, always so cautiously maintained.

Maybe I ought to give her a break. I mean, if she was Mike's best friend and had accepted him for who he was and didn't mind spending summertime here, perhaps she wasn't as fake of a person as I made her out to be.

"Sibi?"

"Hm?" She removed her gaze from the garden and turned to look at me.

"Where is Mike's mother?"

This was one of the questions that had been swirling in my mind since the day I arrived. I had been on iffy terms with the two of them-especially Sibi-so I never got the chance to ask. I figured now was as good a time as any.

Sibi took a deep breath, probably debating whether or not to respond. "Dead," she finally said. "She died when Mike was very young. Mr June was . . . devastated. Her death was not easy on him. And so he decided to quit the wizarding life once and for all, to never use any kind of magical activity from then on because everything was a harsh reminder of what happened to her. That's why their financial situation has been this way for years now - Mike's dad has refused to get a job that includes the usage of magic."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, promptly wondering if I should have even asked in the first place.

Sibi gave a weak nod. "That's where he goes everyday when he leaves. To the graveyard. To visit her."

Now all of the pieces were falling together. A heaviness settled in my heart, mixed with a newfound wave of sympathy for Mike. I knew what it felt like, having a dead parent. The mourning for a love you'd never felt and were too young to remember, the grievance of what your life could've been with them in it.

"My father is dead, too."

Sibi turned her head to look at me, one of her finely plucked brows arching with curiosity. The decision to trust her with this secret surprised me even more than her. Why was I opening up to her? Maybe because this was something I needed to get off my chest and share with someone since that was a luxury I'd never had. Maybe because my father's death was something I never really moved on from, even though I didn't even know him. Maybe because it was less about who I was telling it to and more so about the mere act of saying it, putting it out there in hopes of getting some form of closure from this confession alone.

"Mom said he died in a plane crash," I continued. "He was on a business trip to the UK but there was a turbulence and . . . he didn't make it.

"It broke her, you know. I have no siblings and no other relatives apart from my aunt. She doesn't have children either and her husband, my uncle, had died many years ago from cancer. So there weren't many people to help mom get through this. She was very strong; somehow managed to pull through on her own, while raising me. I was still a baby when it happened. But it seemed like she didn't want me to ever ask about him, maybe because it would bring back memories that she was trying to forget. Over the years, it became this unspoken agreement between us, so I tried my best not to mention dad around her. But I don't get why she went to such lengths to erase all traces of him, as if he never existed. Like, even when I tried to rummage through her stuff in search for, hell even a picture of him or something, I could never find anything. If I at least knew what he looked like . . ."

My voice trailed off and my mouth went dry. I looked down at my knees. Sibi's hand rested gently on my right shoulder and I made no attempt to push it away.

"It's all right, Polly," she whispered. "You shouldn't feel sad or regretful about it. Trust me, you should be happy he is dead and you didn't get the chance to know him."

I turned to her with a glare, about to spit out horrible things and harshly remove her hand from my shoulder. But then she opened her mouth and curiosity to know more about my father got the best of me.

"Listen, your father wasn't a great man." Sibi explained, looking straight into my eyes as she spoke. "He was dangerous, very dangerous. The Ministry of Magic was never able to catch him because he kept running away from them. But now he's thankfully dead, and we're all safe."

"Safe?! What makes you think my dad was evil?" I asked, trying to sound calm but the anger was boiling up in my veins and I wasn't good at faking feelings like Sibi. So much for her compassion.

"He belongs to a specific group of people, who are and always have been dangerous. He possesses evil powers that make him capable of Dark Magic. If you're one of them, your fate is destined. The Ministry executes you before you can murder innocents."

"So my dad was . . . He was a murderer?" My heart drummed as I tensely waited for a response, hoping unsuccessfully for Sibi to deny it.

"I'm sorry, Polly," she whispered.

I swallowed, nodded once, then without a word, stood up.

"Look," Sibi hastened to speak. "I know I've been mean to you, very much so actually, because I pretended to like you when I was in fact terrified of you, and that's worse than telling somebody openly that you don't like them. But it was silly of me to think that you were just like your dad. I mean, we are of the same age and you're starting Hogwarts only this year. I was wrong about you, okay? Merlin, can't believe I just said that. But how about we leave this all behind and start anew, huh? I want to be your friend."

"My friend?"

I scoffed, giving her an are-you-for-real look. Just when I thought she was actually being genuine for once, she was making her real intentions clear. She only wanted to use me for information so that she could probably turn me in to the Ministry, since I was the daughter of some supposedly evil killer.

"Well, how can we be friends, Sibi? You never know it with these sorts of people."

The fact that I quoted her words from her conversation with Michael that I'd eavesdropped on didn't escape her notice. She closed her eyes and buried her face in both hands.

"You had just arrived that day, okay?" she snapped in defense. "I didn't even know you and I had never met somebody like you before. How could I possibly know you were different? How could I possibly know you were harmless when you, out of all people, happened to be exactly the daughter of one of the most dangerous killers of all time? I prejudged you and I was wrong - I get it. Now I've sort of gotten to know you these days, all right? And I don't think you're an evil person. So what I'm doing, Polly, is trying to become your friend. Why won't you give me a chance?"

I considered her words for a moment, but my heart still thumped with rage. Sibi had clearly shown she was a good liar. How could I be sure what she was saying right now wasn't just another one of her pretend acts to gain my trust?

"Listen," she continued, this time more gently. "When we arrive at Hogwarts, you won't know anybody there and when people start to raise suspicions about your story . . . you'll need friends more than ever, okay? You will need people by your side. A support system."

"You don't have to pity me, all right? I can handle life on my own."

"Weren't you the one who wanted things to be different?" Sibi blurted out impatiently, her tone of voice rising. "Didn't you say you ran away from home because you felt left out in your muggle town and everybody made fun of you at school? Well, isn't getting in touch with people like us what you've always wanted? Now that you finally get your chance, you're claiming you can handle everything on your own! Is this the new beginning you were so looking forward to, Polly, huh?"

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out, so I closed it again. Heat rushed to my cheeks. Sibi took a deep breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Trust me, Mike and I have no bad intentions." Her eyes begged for understanding, their gaze full of the kind of empathy nobody other than Rochelle had ever extended to me. "I know how it feels to be judged and so does he. Nobody understands you better than we do. Let us help."

I gave her another cautious look, searching for even the slightest hint of a hidden motive in her voice, in her big hazel eyes. But the look they held was candid, almost desperate, and her tone was more serious than I'd ever heard Sibi sound. Something in me softened. For whatever dumb reason, I wanted to cry.

I cut my eyes away from hers and towards the pond of white lilies, where a frog leapt into the water, as if on cue, to show me its impressive jump.

"How can I trust you?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Sibi breathed out another deep sigh. My eyes traveled to a tawny owl resting upon the branch of an apple tree, golden eyes staring down at me. It was hers, I realized. I'd seen her feeding it almost every afternoon.

"Because I know your secret and so does Mike," said Sibi eventually, snapping me back to the present conversation. "We know what you are and we can help you not get caught. Our intention is to protect you, Polly, not to turn you in."

"What do you mean?" I frowned, turning to look at her. "What am I?"

"You're different from the rest of them."

There was a short moment of silence when my impatience could have gotten the best of me if Sibi hadn't added, "You're a Dolphinus."

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so this chapter is focused on Sibi, as you can tell by the aesthetic and gif at the beginning. what do you think of her character so far?

major thanks for your constant support. i love you guys 🖤

stay awesome!

~Des