❝ Her messy hair, a visible attribute of her stubborn spirit. As she shakes it free, she smiles knowing that wild is her favorite color. ❞ -J. Iron Word

"A what?" I asked.

Sibi, Mike and I were all positioned in a circle on the wooden floor of his living room, discussing the "secret" Sibi had told me about earlier that day in the garden. It was early evening. A crescent moon hung low on a blanket of navy blue sky that was visible from the window. The chirping of crickets provided pleasant company to our candlelit conversation as we munched on leftover cookies Sibi had baked some days ago.

Apparently, both of them knew about it-my father's mysterious identity. Guess I had underestimated how much they were aware of regarding my heritage. But now was my chance to finally learn it all, everything I hadn't been told my whole life.

"A Dolphinus," Mike said. "Your Patronus animal takes form of a dolphin."

"How do you know that? I have never conjured a Patronus before."

"It is in your blood, Polly," Sibi answered. "Your dad was one of them. It's a genetic thing."

"That's why we are called this way? Because our Patronus takes form of a dolphin?" I asked in disbelief. "That's why my dad was considered dangerous? That's the reason the Ministry is after people like me?"

"No, of course not," responded Mike, swallowing the last bite of his cookie and clearing his throat. "I mean, there is a reason. A sensible one. But this is not the right time or place for you to find out."

"Why not?"

"Look, Polly, we aren't sure how you might react to all this," explained Sibi slowly. "It will be too much for you to handle."

"We mustn't be the ones to tell you," Mike added. "Somebody else must explain it to you."

"Does this 'somebody' know my secret too?" They nodded. I gritted my teeth, but said nothing. Jeez, how many freaking people in the planet know more about me than I do?

Sibi gave me a wary look. "We really shouldn't be the ones to tell you, Polly. Please don't get mad at us. We're doing this for your own good."

"Yeah?" I scoffed. "My mother did the same thing when she didn't tell me that I was a witch, which apparently she'd known since I was a kid. I'm sick and tired of people keeping secrets from me 'for my own good'."

"Polly, listen-" Mike started.

"No," I practically cried, standing up. "I've listened to you long enough. I'm done."

And with that, I left the room.

▼

A week rolled by, a week filled with strained conversations, angst and a hell lot of inner dilemmas. Life with the two of them was exhausting and insufferable at times, though I didn't know what to call them anymore.

We weren't friends per se. Whenever they wanted to talk to me, it was always the same story. They had no answers to give, I lost my temper and left, they tried again but in a more roundabout way, trying to walk on eggshells, perpetuating my cycle of ongoing frustration.

Sibi still wasn't fond of my attitude but at least she had started to act more like her real self, leaving the pretentious, overly sweet facade behind, which I was quite relieved about. Mike, on the other hand, remained quiet most of the time, especially when I wanted answers to all the questions I had, which he would never give me, so I'd give up trying to talk to him at all.

Still, there were times when we actually had normal conversations. They wouldn't mention my father's name, the Ministry of Magic or these so-called 'Dolphinuses'. Instead, they'd talk to me about Hogwarts, their lives and the wizarding world. I soon discovered that Sibi loved baking, makeup and, according to Mike, was a master dueler, even though she wouldn't admit it. Mike was the Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team-which automatically piqued my interest since the sport itself fascinated me-and was also into gardening. He'd weed the flower bed in his backyard every other day and water the plants every afternoon at five o'clock.

Then every evening, we would sit in silence in the dingy living room, listening to wizard music on the radio and playing chess. Mike taught me how to play, and despite how quickly I mastered it, I only ever managed to beat him twice. The guy was basically a pro.

What I noticed about the two of them was that they were strikingly different from one-another. While Sibi's appearance was always neat, her hair brushed to the point they resembled flowing silk, and she made the table after every meal, Mike was as disorganized as me-his clothes as shaggy as his too-long hair that partially covered his eyes and he hardly ever bothered to clean up his messes, which vexed Sibi, to say the least.

Sometimes, I would show them what tricks I could perform without the usage of a wand, which Sibi and Mike referred to as 'wandless magic'. I took absolute enjoyment in watching their jaws drop and their eyes goggle in awe, as if what I did was the most unbelievable thing in the world.

Even his father didn't act suspicious around me any longer. I came to find that Oswald June was actually a funny man. He would tell us stories from his childhood whenever we sat down for dinner, which would always crack me up in a way that made my stomach ache and my lungs scream for air. Finally I knew how it felt like, to be so happy you doubled over with laughter.

All in all, our 'friendship' was weird, if it could even be called that. Despite everything, I had to admit that deep down, I had enjoyed my stay with Sibi and Mike. So now that I was packing up to leave for Diagon Alley, a weird feeling had formed in the pit of my stomach.

After finishing the packing, I pulled my large suitcase behind me as I exited Mike's cottage. I went to take a seat on the wooden bench at the back of his house, which faced the magical garden and the small pond of lilies.

The weather was lovely-with a hint of a summer breeze blowing the locks of hair away from my face and the sun that showered the foliage in front of my eyes in warm rays. The chirping of birds was the only sound that broke the silence, adding a slumberous effect that had my eyes closing.

I inhaled deeply the fresh air perfumed with the scent of the flowers, enjoying a short-lived moment of meditation before thoughts started popping and gurgling in my head. Thoughts of how my life would look like from now on. I came here exactly on my birthday, and now it was the twelfth of July. Still a lot of time left before the school year started. I could use this time to explore the wizarding world and learn more about magic, so that I wouldn't be as hopeless as a first year when school started.

I could stay at The Leaky Cauldron for some time; then I could do some traveling in various wizard neighborhoods and build up a tent in order to stay near witches and wizards without having to spend money in a hotel and-

Money!

Oh my God, how come I didn't think about this before? Where was I supposed to even find money? Of course I couldn't use the muggle coins and banknotes I had taken with me. Even if I wanted to spend time with muggles, which I didn't, British currency was different from the American kind.

Was it? I'd never been to England and Economics class was too boring for me to pay attention to when I was back in my muggle high school. No wonder I had straight D's in it. But I doubted the British used dollars too.

What mattered though, was that I didn't have any wizard money with me. I had never even seen wizard money in my life. Apart from, well, in the Harry Potter movies. But I didn't have a vault at Gringott's, so how was I supposed to buy the school textbooks and supplies or even pay for my stay at The Leaky Cauldron?

"Polly!" Mike's voice from inside the house pulled me out of my thoughts. "Where are you? We're leaving in a few minutes."

"Coming!" I called back.

I got up from the bench with a sigh, the corners of my lips curling downwards. A tightness formed in my chest, as though wanting to suffocate me. Throwing one final glance back at the enchanting garden, I exhaled and made my way inside the house.