❝ Whether you come back by page or big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home. ❞ — J. K. Rowling

We entered a muggle coffee shop nearby, the delicious scent of freshly brewed coffee filling my nostrils as soon as I stepped in with Breeze following behind. As we took a seat on a free booth in the corner, I tried to ignore the weird looks we were getting—probably because of Breeze's odd clothing and the fact that I was holding a cage that contained an owl. Not the kind of sight you see every day.

I ordered a cappuccino, but Breeze settled for water, since she wasn't familiar with muggle drinks. The reality dawned on me again, that today would be my first day at Hogwarts, and a swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach from the excitement of it all.

"So," Breeze started, clearing her throat. "Tell me what you've been up to this summer."

I took a sip of my cappuccino and sent her a funny look. "Like you don't already know."

"Just because I have been tracking you throughout your travels doesn't mean I am aware what you were up to. Though some of it, I can speculate. Like when you spent two weeks in Godric's Hollow, I'm guessing you visited the remains of the Potters' house. And in the time you spent in Coriander Village, you probably stayed at the Mayos' townhouse."

"I did!" I said, awestruck at how right she was, though I suppose I shouldn't have been.

Breeze knew I'd grown up being a Harry Potter fan—it's how I even made the connection between my magical powers and the wizards' of the series, before I even received my Hogwarts letter. So naturally, somebody like me wouldn't pass up the chance to visit her childhood hero's place of birth. And she knew where Sibi lived, so it only made sense to think I'd stayed at her place when I visited her village—which I had, though when I first heard of Coriander Village, it was because the waitress at the tavern in Boktown recommended I travel there if I was looking for cheap motels to stay in. Running into Sibi had been an unexpectedly pleasant surprise, and she insisted I stay at her house, which I didn't object to.

"I didn't expect Godric's Hollow to be such a tourist hotspot," I said. "In the books, it was described as this quiet place, but when I got there, there were so many visitors. More than locals, even. The hotel I stayed in wasn't that cheap either—which, obviously, wasn't an issue for me, but I'm just saying."

"Yeah." Breeze breathed out a sigh. "It didn't used to be that way, but after the Second Wizarding War, when all these biographies about the Boy Who Lived started coming out, people all over the world started to show interest in visiting the place where it all started."

"I visited Ignotus Peverell's grave, too! You know, one of the brothers from the Tale of the Three Brothers."

"Ah, yes. The tale of the Deathly Hallows."

Breeze cast her gaze outside the window, a faraway look in her eyes. I couldn't help but wonder how old she'd been when the whole events of the book series took place. It was hard to tell Breeze's age, but if she happened to be in her thirties, as I assumed, the war must've ended either around the time she was born, or when she was still too young to remember.

As if knowing what I was thinking, Breeze looked at me again and said, "I was one of the people who fought in the Second Wizarding War. It took place during my last year at Hogwarts."

My eyes bulged and I nearly choked on my cappuccino. "What?"

"My age doesn't show, I'm aware. But you have to remember that witches and wizards' lifespan is much, much longer than that of muggles. Our current headmaster, Boden Dashawn, is well into his 110s."

"That's not the shocking part, Breeze," I said. "You just told me you fought in the war against Voldemort. I didn't know you attended Hogwarts during the time Harry and the rest did."

"Oh, yes. Harry Potter and I were in the same year. Though I'm afraid to disappoint you, but we weren't very close."

"But you must've at least interacted at some point, right? Did he know you at all?"

"He was aware of my existence, of course, given that I was in his house, so I shared a dorm room with his best friend, Hermione Granger. Not to mention, I was one of the members of Dumbledore's Army, and I was friends with some of his other friends, such as Luna Lovegood and Padma Patil. We interacted on several occasions, but that's about it." She took a slow sip of water, her eyes taking on that reminiscent look again. "I liked the lad enough, what I knew of him. Quite a loyal and down-to-earth person, despite finding himself constantly in the spotlight. I always was under the impression the fame he had was a double-edged sword."

It was too much to process. Well, everything had been, from the moment I got my acceptance letter to the day I bought my wand and the very fact that today I'd take the train to freaking Hogwarts. But finding out Breeze was there while it all happened . . . the Chamber of Secrets scandal . . . Dumbledore's Army . . . the Second Wizarding War and Voldemort's ultimate defeat . . . Plus she was friends with Luna and Padma, and roommates with Hermione! My head spun dangerously fast, and I took a long sip of cappuccino like I was downing a shot glass.

"Go ahead," she said, knowingly. "Ask."

"What are they like?" I whispered, frozen and awestruck. "Harry and Hermione and Luna and all the rest."

"I'd say Rowling got their personalities quite accurately in the books. They're great people, and even better wizards. Unfortunately, can't really say the same about her. She may have done a service to the wizarding and muggle communities through those books, but she is one insufferable individual herself. Apologies for my bluntness."

I snorted. "No need to apologize. I've always gotten a snobby vibe from her anyway." How odd to discover that not only were all these fictional characters actually real people, but even the author who wrote about them was a witch herself. "Do you still keep in touch with any of them?"

"Oh, definitely. Luna and I remain great friends. I'm visiting her and Rolf next week, in fact. I still remember when their sons, Lorcan and Lysander, were my students. They were quite the dynamic duo. Reminded me a lot of Fred and George Weasley."

A sharp pang of hurt pricked my heart at the mention of Fred. When I thought the books were mere fiction, he'd always been my favorite character, so his death destroyed me when I first read about it. Finding out he had been a real person made the pain twice as bad.

"What's the deal with the books?" I asked, switching the topic before I'd get sad again. "I mean . . . you said it's all real. But I guess my question is, how is that not illegal? Writing a whole book series on real events that happened in the wizarding world and selling them to muggles like it's all fiction? Surely there's muggles who know about magic. Wouldn't they pick up on it? So isn't that basically just exposing wizardkind to them?"

"All very valid questions. And you're right, the muggles who know of magic, whether through word of mouth or because they have family members and friends who are born with magical blood, they know. But the rest of them—that is to say, the majority—don't believe in magic any more than they do the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus or whatever other fairy tales muggles have. After the war, the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, decided it would be best to bridge the gap between our world and theirs, rather than continue to keep them in the dark of our existence, when many of them already know, and many more were forced to find out after the Second Wizarding War.

"But of course, there were still laws we had to abide be. We couldn't just come out in the open and say, 'hey everyone, magic is real.' So then, a rather . . . hm, zealous witch—J. K. Rowling, that is—volunteered to write a biography on Harry Potter's life through a supposedly 'fictional' lens that we'd distribute among muggles as a way of dropping hints about the existence of our world. Of course, not everyone bought into it; in fact, there's more muggles who regard and appreciate it for a well-written fictional story than those who read between the lines and figure out the truth. But we reckoned it would be helpful to young muggleborn witches and wizards to read about someone who had the same magical abilities as them, so they would realize they weren't alone, and there was nothing wrong with them."

She turned to me, a hint of a smile tugging at the left corner of her lips. "I believe it's safe to say our goal was successful when it came to you, wasn't it?"

"Sort of, yeah," I admitted. "I mean, I was never completely convinced, not until I got my letter, that is. But I guess that had more to do with kids mocking me at school and how much it bothered mom when I even brought up the topic of magic. Which makes sense now that I know about my father being a wizard and all, but back then, it stung." It was so bizarre to talk about my old life now. It all felt so far away, I couldn't believe that had been my reality for the past fourteen years. A wistful smile formed on my lips. "That's why I found such comfort in the books. Whenever I read them, I felt seen."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Breeze. "I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you to not only receive such little support from those around you, but also be shamed and taunted for simply being born different."

Born different. In regards to my magical abilities, sure. That wouldn't have been the case if I was raised among witches and wizards. But even after I found out about the existence of the wizarding world, I didn't immediately fit in. Even here, among people like myself, I stood out when I mentioned my full name, so after witnessing Sibi, Mike and Oswald June's reactions when we first met, I'd learned that my last name was something to keep to myself for my own sake, unless I was ready to deal with people's judgments and fearful stares.

Even for a witch, I was born different. Because not everyone's father was a well-known murderer. Not everyone was born with Dolphinus blood and had to endure the stigma surrounding such an identity, whatever the hell that even meant.

"Breeze," I spoke up, unsure if she'd been reading my mind and caught on to my train of thought or not. "What was my dad like?"

She regarded me with another one of her unreadable looks before responding. "Sibi and Michael told you about his reputation, didn't they?"

"That he was a wanted murderer and a Dolphinus? Yes."

"What do you know about Dolphinuses?"

"Basically nothing. Only that they're hunted by the Ministry because they possess Dark Powers or something, and it runs in the bloodline. The name comes from the Patronus that takes form of a dolphin, which apparently is a genetic thing too. My dad ran away from the Ministry people, so they were never able to catch him, and I'm assuming somewhere down the line, he became a killer, which earned him his infamous reputation. So I discovered it's probably not a good idea to go around making it known I'm the daughter of the biggest wizard criminal." I took a deep breath, then held her gaze when I sensed she was about to avert hers. "Is it true? Was my dad really a killer?"

Breeze only maintained eye contact for a second or two before looking down at the table. Her jaw set, lips pursing in a line. "There's plenty I want to tell you about your father, Polly. He was my student once, and my favorite one at that. But I don't want to burden you, on your first day of school, with information that's better saved for a later date, when we have more time to have a proper discussion. You've got enough to worry about today."

"No, Breeze, it's okay. I wanna know."

"I know you do. But like I told you earlier, all in good time. What I will say is . . . reputations can be deceiving. Don't be so quick to judge your father based on what you've heard about him."

Great! Now I have even more questions.

I opened my mouth, but before I could even get a word out, Breeze cleared her throat, straightened in her seat and said, "However, if it would make you more comfortable to go by a fake surname while at Hogwarts, I can certainly arrange that."

"Thank you," I said. "But I think I'm fine with Polly Kin. I can chalk up the last name to a coincidence and tell people I'm a muggleborn witch if they start asking. Easier than having to keep up a fake identity. I don't want to feel as if I'm hiding like a coward."

She looked at me mutely for a moment, and by this point, I gave up trying to make sense of her poker face. There was more I wanted to ask her regarding my father and his Dolphinus identity. But it was clear Breeze didn't plan on telling me anything today, and she was right that I had current problems to worry about, such as getting ready for my first day at Hogwarts, the sorting, and just what awaited me once I got there in the first place.

"You'll be introduced as a transfer student," she said eventually. "Headmaster Dashawn and I also figured it would be best for everyone if your sorting was done in private in my office. Are you alright with that?"

"More than alright." It felt like an invisible weight slipped off my shoulders. "So, uh . . . I'm guessing the explanation as to why I'm starting Hogwarts so late is another long conversation you want to have with me when you tell me about my dad."

I looked at her challengingly, almost as if to say this wasn't up for debate, and I expected answers sooner or later, but I was just giving her the benefit of the doubt for now since we really were short for time. Her greenish brown eyes bore an understanding look. She nodded.

"Of course, Polly. Now, do you have any last questions before we go? Hopefully, nothing that will require an in-depth explanation."

"Actually, I've got one. Uh, it should be a simple yes or no question."

"Wonderful."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the photograph of the family of wizards mom and I met in Asheville when I was young. The frayed paper looked even more worn out after being crumpled up in my pocket for so long. I smoothed out the folds and creases and slid it across the table towards Breeze. She reached for it, her brows knitting together as her fingers ran over the yellowish paper.

Something changed in her face then, and the look of horror that flashed across her features lingered long enough for me to know it wasn't just my eyes fooling me. Breeze's face whitened and her eyes grew large with fear the more she looked at the photograph, her gaze anxiously darting from one face to another. Then she flipped the photo around and her lips parted as she read the text. My heart gave a little flutter in adrenaline.

"Do you know these people?" I asked, maybe a little too eagerly.

The sound of my voice made her snap out of her daze. She straightened in her seat and quickly glanced at me. Any hints of fear dropped from her face and that typical expressionless look rose again. She put the photograph down slowly.

"I'm afraid I don't," she said in a blank tone.

I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "C'mon, Breeze. I saw the look on your face. You know something."

"My apologies. I thought the woman was someone I knew. But the more I looked at the picture, I realized it wasn't who I thought it was. This is the first time I see any of these people."

"Are you sure?" My voice took on a note of desperation. "Don't you recognize any of them at all? Maybe you've heard of a wizarding family by the name Ransom."

"I can tell you with certainty that I haven't. I remember all the students I've taught, all the people I've known in my life, and none of them have that name. I'm sorry, Polly."

I nodded and looked down at the table, closing my eyes. My shoulders fell. Well, there goes that. Any hope I'd had of getting some answers as to who these people were, that I'd met during a time in my childhood which I, for whatever reason, had absolutely no memories of, just evaporated into thin air. Breeze cocked her head to the side, seeking my gaze.

"Where did you get this photo?" she asked gently.

"I found it in the album mom has of our travels through the years. It was the only magic photograph, and I meant to ask her about it but I doubt she'd give me honest answers, anyway. If she has been hiding her knowledge of magic and my dad from me my whole life to 'keep me safe' or whatever, why would she tell me we used to know a family of wizards? I just—"

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, then opened them again. The vision from my childhood I had the first night in Boktown came back to mind. "It's weird, but I don't remember any of these people, and I-I get the feeling we used to know them well. And I say that because about a month ago, I had a dream, a memory, of my running in the woods, playing hide and seek with the little guy from the photo. Whenever I look at him, there's this . . . sense of familiarity. Like we were childhood friends or something, but this invisible dam is holding back any memories of that period of time in my life from resurfacing." I laughed nervously. How ridiculous did that sound. "Sorry, I'm probably not even making any sense."

Breeze's eyes hardened and a crease took form on her forehead. I thought I saw that same flicker of fear on her face again, but I couldn't be sure. Her thumb fiddled with the edge of the photograph. She took another sip of water, then slid the photo back to me.

"I don't want you to worry about this right now," she said. "If your mother has kept this family a secret from you, who knows what reason she could've had. Maybe something happened for her to cut ties with them a while ago. I give you my word that I'll look more into them and let you know whatever I find. But it's not productive to stress over people you don't remember."

I nodded, but said nothing. Easier said than done. Breeze did bring up a good point, though. Maybe something happened that affected my memory. Maybe there was a reason we weren't close with these people anymore and this picture was the only documentation I had of their existence, and our previous familiarity with them. The last time I had wished for more information on someone in my life, I'd come to discover he was a runaway murderer in the wizarding world. Did I really want to know who these people were, or had been?

Be careful what you wish for.

"Okay." I gulped the last remains of my cappuccino, folded the photo and shoved it back in my pocket. "Thank you for everything, Breeze. You've already helped me so much. I know you'll give me more answers when the time is right, so I'll just . . . take it one day at a time for now."

I gave her a grateful smile, which to my surprise and delight, she returned this time.

"I am always here to help, Polly," she said. "Now let's get going before we're late for the train."

We left the coffee shop, muggle eyes following us curiously from the moment we stood up to the last second we exited out of the door. Breeze McBon was a strange woman, but I'd grown fond of her in such a short amount of time, and not just because she was the first witch I met, who introduced me to the world of magic and gave me answers to so many questions that had been plaguing my mind for years.

In many ways, I saw myself in her quirks, the way she stood out even among witches because of her strange sense of fashion or withdrawn nature combined with her awkward formality when interacting with people. On top of that, finally having a proper conversation with another human being after a month of traveling alone—minus the week I spent at Sibi's house—was a feeling I had definitely missed.

Once we entered King's Cross station, Breeze went to purchase my ticket for the Hogwarts Express, while I fetched a cart and arranged my suitcase and Greg's cage on it. Several people were throwing me the same type of weird looks I'd received earlier on at the coffee shop, except this time around, I felt more self conscious without Breeze by my side.

"Hey," Breeze's voice brought me back to my senses. She'd just reappeared beside me. I sighed deeply in relief. "I got your ticket."

She handed me a large silver-colored ticket that read, "London to Hogwarts: Platform Nine and Three Quarters." I fought the ridiculous urge to jump up and down in joy like a happy child.

"Let's get going," she said, nudging me forward.

I started pushing my cart past the first number of platforms, absentmindedly gathering speed the further we walked. When we passed platform seven, my heart was practically bursting inside my ribcage. I could feel my legs carrying me nimbly forward, to the point I was practically running towards the desired destination, and a warm glow expanded throughout my body. I came to an abrupt stop when I reached platform nine and took a minute to regain my breath.

"Look carefully around before walking straight into the brick wall, alright?" Breeze whispered so that the muggles walking by wouldn't hear. "I'll let you know when it's safe to go. Understood?"

I nodded, taking an observing look around. A few seconds later, once the area started to clear a little, Breeze gave me a thumbs-up sign. Before my mind had any time to overthink it, I closed my eyes, held my breath and gave the cart a strong push forward. As my eyes fluttered open again, King's Cross had disappeared. Now I stood in front of Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Wow," I breathed.

The platform was overcrowded with students rushing about, cheering, talking lively to one another, all of them carrying trolleys that contained their trunks, as well as their animal cages. Although most of them owned an owl, there were many students who happened to be carrying around toads and cats as well. And there it stood, right in front of me, the huge scarlet engine puffing out clouds of white smoke, with the words Hogwarts Express painted on it.

Breeze appeared behind me and we both made our way towards the train. I allowed the luggage assistant to help me with my suitcase and only kept Greg's cage with me as I thrusted my way through the crowd of students and parents, and inside the train with Breeze in tow.

"Well, it sure is packed in here," she said. "I'm afraid this is where I leave you. I have to go to the teacher's compartment." She gave me a nod of acknowledgment and started to walk away. "Go find yourself an empty spot and enjoy your trip. I'll see you at Hogwarts."

I gave her a faint wave as she disappeared into the mass of students, soon enough going out of sight. Being surrounded by large groups of unknown people made my heartbeats start increasing and I could feel my social anxiety crawling up again like it had happened the first day of freshman year in my muggle high school. My palms began to quiver and cover in sweat as my eyes frantically moved from one unfamiliar face to another.

Nobody was paying much mind to me, which was a strange feeling compared to the nasty stares and mocking laughters I was used to being greeted with in my old school. It felt nice. Never did I think being invisible would feel so comforting, but for the first time, I could blend in without drawing attention to myself. Just another student, trying to find an empty compartment. I knew I would become an outcast again, once I got to the castle and people started to ask about my background and such (and heaven forbid they found out about my dad.) But for now, I could enjoy being inconspicuous.

I thrusted my hands in my pockets, and nudged my way through the crowd. Only when I reached the last wagon of the train did I finally find a free compartment. Breathing out an audible sigh of relief, my left hand numb from carrying Greg's cage, I dragged my feet inside.

"Thank God."

I closed the glassy door shut behind me, and fell backwards on the seat, panting heavily. I adjusted Greg's cage on the corner and scooted closer to the window, staring out at the crowded railway station. Some students were being pulled in an embrace by their parents and relatives; younger ones were running around, chasing one another and laughing, but most were hurrying to get into the train.

And that was when I saw them. Out there, dressed in a pristine blue dress with her golden brown hair pulled into a high ponytail stood a tall and beautiful girl, talking to a shorter guy, whose appearance was a sharp contradiction to hers. His dark brown hair was tousled, his clothes vintage and shabby, but there was a warm smile tugging at his lips as he listened to her speak.

The corners of my mouth automatically rose. Sibi and Mike.

I started waving my hands to get their attention, and after a couple of moments, they spotted me and waved back, grinning. Sibi parted with her parents and Mike with his dad, then both of them got in the train. Several minutes later, the door of my compartment slid open and the two of them walked in.

Sibi smiled. "Hello, Polly."

"Hey, guys."

I sprang to my feet, feeling the stupid urge to run toward them and squeeze them in a bear hug, but I held myself back. Sure, I could call them my friends now, but we weren't close like that.

"Hey, Polly," Mike said.

They both took a seat opposite me, and I awkwardly stumbled backwards and plopped back down on my own. Sibi placed Tirol's cage next to Greg's, my barn owl hooting when he saw Sibi's tawny one.

"How have you two been?" I asked.

"Great," Sibi said. "I just said goodbye to Vicky before getting here. She had to catch her flight to Berlin early this morning. Her vacation leave was only two months. You remember her, Polly, don't you? You two met when you stayed over at my house."

"Of course I remember," I said with a smile, recalling the day I met Sibi's older sister. "Victoria was lovely. I had so much fun the day she took us shopping."

Sibi grinned. "That was such a fun day. I love going shopping with Vicky. She has the best fashion sense. I get all my style tips from her."

That much I'd figured the moment I met Victoria. I always admired Sibi's sense of fashion and makeup, but it wasn't until I met her older sister that I realized where Sibi got it all from. Victoria Mayo was six years older, gorgeous as a runway model, except more curvy, and always looked glammed up and wore her best clothes, even when she left her room to eat. But more than her appearance, Sibi also shared her sister's self confidence, poise and organization skills. Even though I only spent a week with them, I could tell right away how close of a bond they shared, and how much Sibi looked up to Victoria as both a mentor figure and role model.

"Will she come back next summer?" Mike asked.

"Probably," Sibi said. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just asking."

A smirk slipped onto Sibi's lips as she gave him a suggestive look, which he didn't notice because he was staring out of the window. She let out a laugh, turning to me.

"Mike had a massive crush on Vicky last year."

Mike's head snapped in her direction, his entire face turning a deep crimson.

"I-I did not!"

"Mhm, whatever you say."

I laughed, my eyes darting between Mike's face to Sibi's, who was teasingly wriggling her eyebrows at him as he tried to bury his flushed face in his palms. Damn, I'd really missed their company. That entire month spent exploring on my own had definitely been a period of self-discovery and independence, but I'd missed having somebody to talk to and spend time with, and it hadn't hit me until now, how much I liked the two of them as people.

A knock on the glassy door snapped me out of my thoughts. A tall, Chinese boy with dyed blond hair and circular glasses stood outside, already dressed in his school robes that carried the Gryffindor house colors. He opened the door and stuck his head inside the compartment.

"Good day," he said curtly, his tone formal. I noticed a shiny badge with the letters HB pinned to his robes. "Isabella, I'm sorry that I'll have to part you from your friends, but you're needed in the Prefects' compartment."

My eyes went wide as I turned to Sibi. "I didn't know you were a Prefect!"

"Yeah, I got the news this summer." She got to her feet, mumbling under her breath, "It's like I'm talking to a wall when I tell people to stop calling me that." She smoothed down her dress, turned to the Headboy with a smile and a nod, then looked at us before exiting the compartment. "See you guys later. Watch over Tirol for me, okay?"

"Of course," said Mike.

"Have a good day," the boy said before closing the door and leaving with Sibi.

I turned to Mike. "I take it Sibi must be an excellent student then."

"Oh yeah, teachers adore her. There's not a thing Sibi's not good at. Well, except for Quidditch maybe."

"You play Quidditch, right? I saw you practice on your backyard sometimes, but I didn't want to bother you."

A blush spread across his cheeks and he lowered his head. "Uh, y-yeah, I mean . . . I am nothing special but—"

"Are you kidding?" I laughed. "From what I saw, you were brilliant. Don't underestimate yourself."

"Thanks, Polly. I'm the Seeker of the house team, actually."

"Oh my god! Nothing special, huh?"

He laughed meekly, peeking at me between the strands of dark brown hair that fell over his eyes.

"You know," I continued, a bit hesitantly. "I think I'm gonna—I'm gonna try out for the position of Chaser. I've been playing a bit of Quidditch over the summer, and let's just say I wasn't . . . completely horrible at it."

"You should totally go for it. If you get sorted into Gryffindor, we're having try-outs next week because some of our players graduated last year, so there's several empty spots. I'd love to have you on the team."

"It would be a dream to play for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. I've just gotta make sure I get sorted there first."

"Let's hope you do," he said. "So anyway, how was your summer?"

I took a deep breath and started telling Mike everything I'd told Breeze. I told him all about my travels and adventures, about everything I had seen and learned over the summer, without leaving out any detail because I knew the ride was long and the train had just started moving. Mike kept asking me questions and I didn't hesitate to give him further explanations, feeling quite proud of myself whenever he made positive comments about my improvement as a witch.

About an hour or so later, there was a knock on our compartment door.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" asked a humpbacked elderly woman, pushing a trolley full of desserts and cold drinks.

My stomach had growled several times already and I had more than enough money, so I purchased a tray's worth of Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Chocoballs, Exploding Bonbons and two glasses of icy pumpkin juice for both myself and Mike. I thought he would look more thrilled about it, but the uncomfortable look on his face as I handed him the drink and half of the snacks said otherwise.

"Thank you, but . . . you didn't have to," he murmured. "I am in no condition to repay you anytime soon."

I couldn't help the disbelieving snort that left my mouth. "Repay me? Like you haven't already done that, Mike. You and your dad took me in when I ran away from home like an idiot. You could've just let me die out there, all alone in the middle of nowhere, but you didn't. Not to mention, you and Mr June didn't stay for lunch that day in Diagon Alley when I intended to pay for the food, so this is the least I can do to thank you for everything."

"Polly, of course we wouldn't let you die all alone in the middle of nowhere," he said, sounding shocked. "Even if we didn't have any orders from professor McBon—" His eyes widened and he bit his lip, then hastened to explain himself. "Uh, I mean—"

"Oh, don't worry, she told me about that," I said, popping a flavored bean in my mouth. Thankfully, it just tasted like cherry. "She brought me to King's Cross today, so we got the chance to talk before I boarded the train."

He let out a sigh of relief. And with that, we put the conversation on pause for the moment, unwrapped the candies and dove in. The chocolate frogs were delicious but felt a little weird to swallow, since the frog very much resembled (and bounced around like) a real one. The Chocoballs, on the other hand, were probably the most delicious thing I had ever tasted, covered in milk chocolate and vanilla, and topped with strawberry syrup.

The Exploding Bonbons felt like they literally set fire to my stomach, but the Cauldron Cakes were nice, though I couldn't finish mine because of how big it was. Finally, I washed all the desserts down with the icy pumpkin juice, which, despite being quite refreshing, was no match for Butterbeer, which had become my favorite magical drink because of how many I'd had the past month.

As we finished with the snacks and started to put the wrappers away, I noticed two people passing by our compartment. They stopped once they caught sight of Mike, waved, then opened the door to enter. They were twins, a boy and a girl, both dressed in uniforms with the Ravenclaw emblem on them. They had dark skin and jet black curls, the girl's being decorated with colorful butterfly hair clips. The boy was about two inches taller and wore a pair of stylish glasses.

"How's it going, mate?" the boy said, flashing him a small smile.

"Mike!" squealed the girl. She ran up to Mike and embraced him in a bear hug, as if they hadn't seen each other in a long time.

"Hey, Rena," Mike chuckled, hugging her back. He looked over her shoulder at her twin. "Ralph. How are you guys doing?"

"Oh, I can't wait to tell you all about our summer," the girl said in her frisky tone of voice as she pulled away, grinning. "Our vacations were awesome! Okay, so I told you we were visiting our aunt in Paris, right? But get this—her villa was near a huge joke shop, and it happened to be one of the most well known stores in all of Europe. It was like a wonderland. Ralph, Melvin and I bought so many prank items. I can't wait to show you and Sibi."

"That sounds amazing, Rena," Mike said, laughing. "But I wouldn't show Sibi if I were you. She got her Prefect badge this summer, so I don't think she'll be very on board with your pranks anymore."

The guy, Ralph, chuckled under his breath. "Let's be honest here, when has she ever been? Congrats to her, though. Melvin got his badge too."

"Congrats to her indeed." Rena grinned. "Go Sibi!"

"Congrats to Melvin as well," Mike said with an impressed smile. "Oh . . . um, by the way, sorry I didn't introduce you guys. This is Polly, a new student, and friend."

And just like that, I went from an invisible girl to the center of both of their attentions. The girl named Rena turned to me, grinning from ear to ear. She took my hand in hers and shook it vigorously.

"Hi, Polly. I'm Rena Richards," she said, sounding—if it was even possible for someone like her—more animated than before. "Fifth year, Ravenclaw, twin sister to Ralph here, and one third of the Hogwarts prankster trio of this generation. We figured every generation has a group of mischief makers, so we took it upon ourselves since year one to claim that title for this era. Ain't that right, Ral?"

"Mhm." The bespectacled guy nodded, his mouth curving in a lopsided smile. "Well, I guess there's not much to add. I'm Ralph. My dramatic twin sister mentioned all the rest."

"Aw, you're welcome, brother dearest," cooed Rena sarcastically. She got up, and my hand felt sore when she released it from her enthusiastic grip. "Anyhow guys, we've got to get back to our compartment before Melvin comes looking for us."

"You know Melvin, he wouldn't get worried even if we disappeared for the rest of the trip," Ralph scoffed.

"True. But he does get bored though, Ral. Don't get me started on what he did that day when we spent two hours with Maddie and Akker," said Rena. She rolled her eyes before turning back to us with a completely different expression, a big and joyous grin. "I'll see you guys at Hogwarts. Oh, and Polly? You'd better get sorted into Ravenclaw, okay? If you do, I'll make sure you become the fourth member of our group. I'd be so happy to have you as a roommate and brainstorm prank plans with you—being around my brother and cousin all the time can get annoying. I need some girl company."

Ralph scoffed and shook his head, but a smile was playing on the corners of his lips. They bid us goodbye and turned to leave.

"That girl was something," I said in amusement when they walked away.

"Rena? Oh yeah, she's like a walking sunbeam." Mike laughed. "Dunno where she gets all that energy from, but it's the most contagious thing. She, Ralph and their cousin Melvin have been our friends since year one. They really live up to their mischief-making reputation."

"They sound like fun people."

"They really are. Not a dull moment in their company. And they're very nice, too. I'm sure you will like them."

I nodded absentmindedly and gave him a smile. The school year hadn't even started yet, and I had already met several people and made new friends. Who would have ever expected it from an asocial person like me?

But at the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder how many, if any, of them would stick around, when they found out about my father's identity.

▼

God knows how the rest of the trip flew by. To me, it only felt an hour long or less. Only the sound of Mike's voice and his hand tapping on my shoulder roused me awake, and he informed me I'd spent at least two hours sleeping.

"We're here," he said.

I rolled my neck and looked out of the window. My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach and a rush of excitement coursed through my body like a current of electricity. The Black Lake appeared dark and ominous in the distance, its glassy surface illuminated by bright lights. The lights of the numerous windows of none other than the Hogwarts castle, which looked marvelous and enchanting from this distance.

"We'd better get changed," Mike suggested.

I stopped gawking at the castle like a madwoman and stepped away from the glass. Nodding, I grabbed my robes from the suitcase below my seat and left the compartment to go change in the restroom. A few minutes later, everyone was all dressed in their school uniforms and I couldn't help but notice how mine didn't have a badge like everybody else's with my house emblem on it. Finally the jitters of the sorting started to take over my body.

With my luggage on one hand and Greg's cage on the other, I followed Mike out of the train, trying not to step on anybody's shoes, which proved difficult because the crowd was impermeable. The cold night breeze filtered through my hair and brought a few tangled strands in my face. I pushed them behind my ears and observed the first-year kids that were following Hagrid to the boats on the lake.

Wait, Hagrid?

My eyes goggled when I took a better look at the half-giant, who was indeed standing there, leading a bunch of confused eleven-year-olds to the boats. The corners of my mouth quirked upwards in a joyous smile. I couldn't believe he was here. One of my favorite (supposedly) fictional characters was standing just a few feet away from me, and sooner or later, I'd get to meet him and actually talk to him myself.

"C'mon, Polly," Mike said, nudging me in the direction of the horseless carriages that were waiting for us.

We made our way forward and hopped onto an empty carriage. No longer than a minute later, Rena, Ralph and another boy with an afro dressed in Slytherin robes, came to join us. I quickly found out he was their cousin, Melvin. The trip to the castle was short and the darkness prevented me from seeing much, but there was one thing I could see clearly. The Hogwarts castle, majestic and slightly intimidating, rose from a gigantic rock, closer and realer than I could ever dream of seeing it.

Except this wasn't a dream. This time, my eyes wouldn't snap open, only for me to find myself on my bed back home in Newbury Park, with mom hovering above me and scolding me about how late I was for school. This divine castle, this school where students learned about witchcraft and wizardry wasn't just the stuff of fairy tales.

It was right here, so close to me, mystical and concrete, and I would walk through those giant oak doors in a matter of minutes with my own two feet.

I'd finally made it to Hogwarts, and it was as real as it gets.

◈

END OF PART II