Late July 1997

When he answered the door, she was standing there. She looked much the same as when he saw her last. She was wearing too much eye shadow, very short shorts, a tank top that only reached her midriff, brightly colored flip-flops, big designer sunglasses, and her blond hair in a sloppy ponytail. She was looking a little… plumper, though.

In her hands was a bundle, which she shoved into his hands. “Here,� she said. “Take it.�

He looked down. It was a baby. A fairly young baby, he guessed. “Mine?� he asked.

“Yours,� she confirmed.

A million questions filled his head. “How did you find me?� he inquired.

“Private detective,� she said.

He swore. They were supposed to be hidden with magical protection, and yet a mere private investigator found him!

“Well, goodbye, then,� she said.

“You’re leaving?� he asked stupidly.

“You think I could put up with that thing any longer?� she snapped as the baby gave a wail.

“Wait, just a minute,� he said. “How old is the baby? Is it a boy or a girl?�

“It’s a girl,� she said. “She’s seven months old.�

“One last thing,� he requested. “Does she have a name?�

“Ella,� she said. “Ella Dursley.�

~*~

August 2011

Thinking back, Dudley realized how much his life had changed that day. Being a single father was hard work. His parents had given him a place to stay, but his father made it abundantly clear that he expected Dudley to provide for the baby and take care of her on his own. His mother helped some, showing him how to change diapers and rocking the baby to sleep, but this was only when she thought her husband wasn’t working.

Ella must be so scared. The thought came to him unbidden. I was too harsh. After all, I made the same mistake when I was older than her.

When Ella had gotten pregnant at fourteen, Dudley threatened to throw her out of the house. He eventually relented and let her stay, but he’d made her life horrible.

It's going to be tough for her anyways, he thought. Why did I have to make it worse?

“Dandelion,� she’d told him with a small smirk on her face. “The baby’s name is Dandelion. I think you know why.�

He did. Ella had grown up in her grandparents’ house, where dandelions were an enemy to be fought at all costs. As she’d become older, she’d come to hate the way her grandparents (and arguably her father) lived. By naming her daughter after the hated plant, she was committing one more act of teenage rebellion.

At that, Dudley had stormed out of his daughter’s room and gone to get some crisps at the vending machines a floor below. He threw the now-empty bag into the garbage and headed back up. It was time to stop acting like his father and try a new strategy with his child and grandchild.

Throughout the course of her first eleven years, some very odd things happened to Dandelion Dursley. Lights often had an odd tendency to flicker on and off when she entered a room, and she always knew who was at the door before she answered it. When she was a baby, containers of green pea baby food (her least favorite kind) often exploded right in her grandfather’s hands when he was trying to feed her. She even once was convinced she saw a fairy in the garden, but her Grandpa Dudley told her to imagining things and being silly. He’d never sounded more like Great-Grandpa Vernon than he did then.

Besides that, she had a fairly normal childhood. Most of the time, she was perfectly happy with her life in a little white house in Surrey with her mother and Grandpa Dudley. Sometimes she wondered who her father was, and what he was like. She tried not to think about him, though, once she was old enough to realize that he’d abandoned her because it made Dandelion angry. Generally, strange, scary things like flickering lights and exploding jars seemed to happen more when she was angry.

One hot, sticky afternoon in July, Dandelion was lying on her bed. Besides being miserably hot, she was also bored. These were the kinds of days she wished she had siblings to play with. Her mother and grandfather wouldn’t be home from work to amuse her for hours yet. School had been out for nearly a month, and she’d exhausted all the amusing things to do at her house and in its immediate vicinity. She’d played all the video games she owned and watched more TV than she wanted to. Her two best friends, Sarah and Alice, where both away on trips, and she didn’t even miss them that much. Over the past year, Dandelion and her friends had grown apart. Alice and Sarah had become much more interested in boys and makeup, and Dandelion had stayed much the same as ever.

She heard the distinctive clink of mail being pushed through the mail slot. Usually, she’d ignore it, leaving her grandfather to pick it up when he got home. Today felt different. Something inside of her was telling her that the mail was important and she should go and collect it. She pulled herself up off the bed and headed downstairs.

Among the usual pile of bills and promotional junk sat an unusual-looking envelope. It looked like it was made of parchment, and there were no stamps visible on it. She stooped down to pick it up. To her surprise, it said:

Miss Dandelion Dursley
The Yellow Bedroom
Number 7 Crystal Street
Hevenston
Surrey

Maybe it was from her father! She quickly banished that thought as she ripped open the envelope. It contained two pieces of paper, both made out of the same material as the envelope. As she read the letter on top, her spirits sank. She never got mail, and the one time she did, it was a prank. How old did Jimmy Smith next door think she was? Six? She’d stopped believing in magic years ago.

~*~

Nothing too remarkable happened for the rest of the day. As usual, Grandpa Dudley arrived home at 5:15 sharp from his job at Grunnings. They had a casserole that Dandelion’s mother had prepared for them over the weekend, and then retired to the family room to watch TV. Dandelion went to bed at 9.00 pm as her grandfather insisted, and heard her mother get home at 9:30.

Because of the unbearable heat, Dandelion was still awake at 10:15 when she heard voices from the living room. Her mother had stopped in at 10.00 to kiss her goodnight before she went to bed, so she knew it couldn’t be her mother talking. Besides, both voices sounded male.

Dandelion slipped out of bed, tiptoed down the hall, and crouched on the stair second to the top. From there, she had a good view of the living room. The scene in there was surprising, to say the least. Her very normal, very sane grandfather was talking to the fireplace!

“No,� said Grandpa Dudley to the fireplace, “She didn’t mention getting any mail from Hogwarts.�

“Are you sure? It should have come today. The ones for James, Al, and Lily did.� The voice was coming from the fireplace! Was Dandelion going crazy also?

“I’m sure,� replied Grandpa Dudley.

“Did you specifically ask her?� inquired the voice from the fireplace. At this point, Dandelion was sure she was going crazy, because not only was the voice coming from the fireplace, but she was also pretty certain she could discern a suspended head from which it was issued.

“No,� admitted Grandpa Dudley.

“Ask her, then,� said the voice. “I could be wrong, too, you know. They sent me a letter before someone from Hogwarts came, but I wasn’t technically Muggle-born like Dandelion. They might just send a professor without going to the trouble of sending a letter that would most likely be ignored.�

“Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe she’s not a witch after all.� Did Dandelion detect a hint of hope in her grandfather’s voice?

“She’s definitely a witch,� said the voice.

“Will she need a broom to fly on or a magic wand?� asked Dudley. “Surrey’s a respectable place. That sort of stuff isn’t sold here.�

The voice sighed. “We’ve been through this before, Dudley. The supply list will come with the letter. She needs a wand, but a broom isn’t allowed for first years. She can get all that stuff in Diagon Alley, in London. If you want, I’d be more than happy to take her. I’m taking my kids and some of their cousins shopping with my sister-in-law, Hermione, next week. If you want, I can bring Dandelion along, too.�

“I’ll just wait and see if she gets the letter, first,� said Grandpa Dudley. “I know you think she’s a witch, Harry, but I’m still hoping.�

“Well, I’ll Floo again in three nights,� said the voice. “You should have gotten something from Hogwarts by then.�

With that, there was a small pop and the outline of the head disappeared from the fireplace. Grandpa Dudley turned around and began to head for the stairs, so Dandelion scampered back to bed.

~*~

The next morning, Dandelion awoke with a start. The sound of the doorbell had awoken her. She lay in bed for a minute, debating whether she should get the door or leave it to her grandfather, and thinking about the odd dream she’d had last night. Her grandpa talking to a fireplace? How odd!

Suddenly, she felt strange feeling in her stomach, not unlike how she’d felt when the mail came the day before. Somehow, she just knew that the visitor at the door was important. She ran downstairs to answer the door, but her grandfather had already answered it and their guest was standing in the front hall.

She was an odd, plain-looking woman who seemed to have little knowledge, or at least concern, for fashion. She wore tight, bright yellow pants that seemed to have come straight out of the seventies, a blazer and blouse worth of a corporate executive, and worn out trainers. Her hair was mainly gray with hints of both brown and white, which appeared to be in the style of a perm, but long neglected. One tuft stuck out at a perfect forty-five degree angle from her head.

“Ah, Dandelion!� called Grandpa Dudley. “I see you’re up. Perfect timing! Come and meet our visitor!�

Apprehensively, Dandelion went down the stairs. She went up to the woman, and they shook hands. Up close, it appeared the woman’s lack of interest in her appearances also extended to her hygiene. Her fingernails were caked with dirt, and something that smelled an awful lot like dung was on the edge of her face.

“Dandelion,� said Grandpa Dudley, “this is Professor Sprout. Professor Sprout, this is my granddaughter, Dandelion, who I believe you’ve come to see.�

They were shepherded to the living room by Grandpa Dudley. Nervously, Dandelion perched on the edge of the sofa next to her grandfather, but Professor Sprout seemed to share none of her anxiety or manners. She threw herself heartily onto the reclining chair and leaned back.

“Well, as I said before, I’m Professor Sprout,� the woman began. “I’m the Deputy Headmistress at a school up north. We take some, er, unusual students, let me say.�

To Dandelion, “unusual students� sounded like a polite way of saying “problem kids.� This offended her, as she got good grades in school and never got in trouble.

“There’s nothing abnormal about my granddaughter!� barked Grandpa Dudley. Dandelion was glad that he’d come to her defense.

“I said ‘unusual,’� replied the woman. “Our students have unique abilities that other schools are unprepared to cultivate. You see, Hogwarts – the school I’m from – is a school of witchcraft and wizardry.�

Hogwarts? Wasn’t that where Dandelion’s letter was from yesterday? This woman was obviously lying – but who would put on such an elaborate hoax? It involved way too much effort and planning to be the work of Jimmy Smith.

Perhaps this woman was crazy. That was an explanation that Dandelion could settle for. Certainly no sane person could put together such an outfit! This “Professor Sprout� probably believed every word she was saying, but that didn’t mean that it was actually true. She probably was from a mental hospital and escaped without her medicine.

“If the letter came yesterday, I never got it,� said Grandpa Dudley, interrupting his granddaughter’s thoughts.

“I have an extra,� Professor Sprout replied as she handed an envelope to him.

“Thank you,� said Grandpa Dudley. “Have a nice day.�

“But you’ll need to know how to get the – “ Professor Sprout began.

“I already have that arranged,� Grandpa Dudley responded.

Dandelion was flabbergasted. How could Grandpa Dudley actually believe what this woman was saying? He was a rational person with little imagination. How could he be taken so easily?

It was only six thirty in the morning, but Dandelion had already eaten and dressed. Now her mother was braiding Dandelion’s hair. Since it was a rather typical mother-daughter scene, something rare in her life, Dandelion was reluctant to break the calm. There was a question nagging at her, though.

“Mum, why are you letting Grandpa Dudley send me off with that magician guy today?� Dandelion inquired. “I think all this is mad.�

“Are you questioning the judgment of your elders?� This question from many mothers would come across as a gentle remand, but Ella’s tone conveyed a hint of irony.

“Mum, you can’t believe all this magic stuff, can you?� Dandelion asked.

“Does it matter what I believe?� Ella replied.

“Of course!� Dandelion exclaimed. “If you realize that magic doesn’t exist, than you must know that this Harry fellow is crazy to think otherwise. You don’t want me going off with a lunatic, right? You’re my mum. You’re supposed to keep me safe.�

“Oh, my dandy girl, you argue just like I did at your age,� Ella said affectionately.

“Mu-ummm, don’t change the subject!� Dandelion wailed.

“How about I tell you everything I know about Harry Potter?� Ella offered.

“Fine,� Dandelion agreed.

“When I was about nine years old, I was looking through one of my grandmother’s photo albums,� Ella said. “There were some pictures of my grandparents, my father, and one of his friends visiting the zoo. It was really odd that they all were in the photos – somebody should have been behind the camera, right?

“I asked my father about it when he was immersed in something. He grunted back, ‘Harry.’ When I tried to find out more, he clammed up. Finally he admitted that it was a bad birthday, but wouldn’t say more.

“A few days later, I worked up all my courage and asked grandfather who this Harry person was. It was after he’d had a few beers, so I knew I was running a risk with his volatile temper, but I also knew the alcohol would make him more likely to talk. He started on a rant about the ungrateful, abnormal boy who’d lived in his house and eaten his food for seventeen years.

“My grandmother soon quieted him down, but I had heard enough to have my interest piqued. How had my grandparents had another boy live with them for seventeen years, yet fail to ever mention him before? Shouldn’t somebody that must have been such a big part of their lives for so long also be integral in many of their family stories? What had happened to him? I never found out, though.�

“Maybe they’re repressing some really bad memories,� Dandelion suggested.

“Maybe,� Ella replied.

“Dandelion!� bellowed Grandpa Dursley from downstairs. “Get down here. When Harry arrives, I don’t want you to make a bad impression by making him wait around.�

Dandelion glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She wore a checkered white and yellow sundress with a little white sweater and white sandals as Grandpa Dudley had insisted. Her mother had put Dandelion’s hair was in pigtail braids. She carried a heart-shaped pink purse that had been a birthday gift years ago, containing a heap of money her grandfather had given her for school supplies. Looking in the mirror, she felt all of three years old.

There was no time to try to bargain with her mother and grandfather to try and get them to allow her to wear something more mature, so Dandelion rushed downstairs to the living room. When her grandfather was under stress, he was liable to have a short temper and act erratically, just like his father. When Grandpa Dudley was in one of those moods, which Ella called a “Vernon Mood,� Dandelion was always sure to obey him. Once in a while, though, she put a toe over the line.

“Grandpa, this is crazy!� she complained. “You don’t even know this guy. He could be a murderer, or a kidnapper, or…�

“Dandelion, we’ve been through this before,� Dudley replied. “Harry and I grew up together. We practically were brothers. I most certainly know him.�

“If you grew up together, why haven’t I heard about him before?� Dandelion asked.

“Dandelion, don’t question my judgment about what is and isn’t appropriate to tell you,� Dudley growled, his face beginning to turn a nasty shade of purple.

“I have to,� Dandelion said defiantly. “You’re sending me off to spend the day with a man who thinks he’s a magician and I’m a witch!�

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “That will be Harry,� Dudley said. “Now Dandelion, please don’t be as disrespectful of him as you just have been of me.�

“I won’t,� she promised. Under her breath, she added, “because I’m afraid I’ll end up chopped into a million pieces otherwise!�

Dudley opened the door, and a man who appeared to be about forty stepped in. Dudley said, “Hey, Harry, it’s been too long,� and slapped the man jovially on the back. The man – Harry – stiffened noticeably, almost as if he expected to be punched in the face next. He quickly recovered, though, and turned to face Dandelion.

As Dandelion had watched Harry arrive, his back had back towards her the whole time. From what she could discern from behind, the stranger looked nothing like Dudley. Where Dudley had an impressive pot belly, this man looked rather thin and angular; where Dudley’s prematurely grey hair held hints of blonde, this man’s hair was as black as night; where Dudley’s skin was normally flushed, this man’s skin, at least what was visible from his short-sleeved t-shirt, was rather pale. If Dandelion had doubted his relation to her grandfather before he arrived, she was doubly sure once he came – until he faced her.

Dandelion wasn’t tiny and cute, like her friend Cecily, nor was she tall and striking like Lorna, a girl in her class. She found her own hair boring. Though it was blonde, it didn’t fall in ringlets, or have golden highlights that caught the sun, and its shade wasn’t white-blonde, a colour that looked like it belonged on an angel. She thought of her hair colour as more of like that of straw, and found it equally boringly straight. She’d never seen anybody with her eye colour before, though. Most people she’d met with green eyes had one that were a rather pale shade, or had flecks of brown in theirs. Hers, though, were a pure, deep green, more green than the greenest grass or leaves. Therefore, Dandelion thought her eyes were her most unique, and thus best, physical feature.

When Harry turned to greet her, the first thing that struck her was not his friendly smile, the strangely-shaped scar on his forehead, or his overall normal appearance in a t-shirt and jeans. What she first were his eyes – her eyes.

“Off you go now, Dandelion,� Dudley said.

“Bye, Grandpa,� she replied, giving him a tight hug. Will I ever see him again? she wondered. She forced the thought out of her head. Her grandfather might be acting strangely with this whole magic business, but he still would know better than to put her in harm’s way… right?

Twenty minutes later, Dandelion was reconsidering her reassurances to herself about Grandpa Dudley's interest in her safety. She, along with five other children, were sitting in the backseat of a shiny black Sedan. Nobody was wearing seatbelts; in fact, there were no seatbelts in sight. “Uncle� Harry had mentioned some utter nonsense about the car being uncrashable when she inquired.

Normally, Dandelion was like most children. She didn’t care too much about seatbelts, and probably wouldn’t wear one if adults didn’t insist. Harry’s driving made her want one, though. He seemed to be awfully fond of making the car go through tight spaces, spaces that appeared to be too small for a car half of its width. He also seemed to have no concern for red lights. Several times the car had approached a yellow light, only to suddenly be on the other side of the intersection impossibly fast.

Harry’s driving was not the only nerve-wracking part of the ride. Dandelion would have thought that six years of school would have easily prepared her for the experience of being in the car with five other kids, but the sheer cacophony of voices in the vehicle was both remarkable and stressful. Almost everyone seemed to be speaking at once, and didn’t seem to care about the fact that they were interrupting others or that nobody was paying attention to what they themselves were saying. Dandelion marveled at the sight of the black-haired boy on the other side of the car, totally immersed in his book despite the noise.

Suddenly, the car came to a screeching halt – or what should have been a screeching halt. It didn’t make a noise, though. Dandelion looked out the window to see some very normal-looking shops. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something odd. She wasn’t sure what, but there was a flicker of something that just didn’t seem to fit. When she tried to look and find what it was, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Here we are!� Harry announced. “Everyone out!�

The other children were out almost in the blink of an eye, and Dandelion followed. The woman from the front seat then stepped out.

“Honestly, Harry, you’re worse than Ron!� she exclaimed. “At least he pretends to follow Muggle traffic laws when I’m in the car!�

“You know it’s a Ministry-style vehicle, one of the first to be released to the wizarding public,� Harry replied. “There’s no need to drive the Muggle way.�

“You and high speed,� she said, shaking her head. “First the Firebolt, now this.�

To Dandelion’s surprise, Harry just laughed. “We’re not all about crossing our i’s and dotting our t’s, Hermione,� he said. “Some of us just like to skip to the doing whatever we please part.�

The woman – Hermione – blushed. “Oh goodness, Harry, why do you have to bring up those embarrassing homework planners?� she asked.

“To see you flustered,� Harry quipped. “I never would otherwise.�

“Come on, Mum,� interupted the elder girl. “I told Scorpius I’d be at Flourish and Blott’s five minutes from now.�

“Rose, you shouldn’t be going out with a Slytherin,� said what appeared to be the eldest boy. He was tall and rather striking, with black hair and blue eyes. “The house has turned out nothing but Dark wizards for the past four centuries.�

Rose rolled her eyes. “You’ve been spending way too much time listening to my dad, James. Besides, Scorpius and I aren’t going out.�

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,� James observed darkly. “He wants there to be a lot more going on than friendship, Rosy, and I don’t like it when a guy looks at my baby cousin like that.�

“Baby cousin? You’re only ten months older than me, you git!� Rose actually shoved James. “As for ominous predictions regarding Scorpius, James, the job has already been taken by my dad.�

Dandelion was feeling rather… left out. Despite their mild bickering, this family was obviously close-knit. It was something she’d never experienced. She hated her visits, though infrequent, with her great-grandparents, and she had no cousins. Despite their love for her, even her granddad and mum were often too tired after work to devote much time to her.

As she watched these people interact, Dandelion began to realise more than ever what she had been missing out on for so many years. It made her feel rather sad, a feeling only made worse by the understanding that her family probably was as close as it would ever get. She’d missed the only chance she’d get at the friendly and loving extended family experience.

Of course, at least some of these people were her relatives, if her grandfather was to be believed. They were strangers, and rather strange ones at that, with all their magic nonsense. Besides, they were only distant relatives. Why would they want to try to include her?

After observing Harry interact with his family, Dandelion had started to doubt, against her will, her judgment of him as crazy. Then he’d led the group into a pub, out the back entrance, pulled a well-polished stick out of his back pocket, and began counting bricks. She was forced to return to her initial verdict on his sanity.

Seeing Dandelion’s questioning gaze, a red-headed girl, smaller than the one who’d been arguing with the black-haired boy, whispered, “You’re seeing your first magic probably, Dandelion. Daddy’s unsealing the entrance to Diagon Alley, where we’ll be getting our school supplies.�

Dandelion was a girl often described by teachers, neighbors, and mothers of friends, as “quiet,� “nice,� and “polite.� She wasn’t the type to roll her eyes at all. Yet she found it very hard not do so when she heard the girl’s explanation of what was going on.

Then Dandelion realized it was the moment of truth. After “performing magic� for several minutes, the bricks would undoubtedly stay bricks, and the people around her would be stripped of their apparent mass delusion.

It didn’t happen that way. Dandelion couldn’t believe her eyes as he tapped a single brick and most of the wall before her dissolved into thin air. It was replaced by the view of a narrow street full of people that seemed to be a scene taken straight from the pictures in her history textbooks of the Middle Ages. The shops looked old, the road was cobblestone, and many of the people, especially the adults, were dressed in what almost appeared to be bathrobes.

“Wow!� she heard herself exclaim.

“Magical, isn’t it?� the brown-haired woman said. “There’s simply no better word for it. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first came here at the age of eleven.�

“Me neither,� Harry added. “At the time, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the best experience of my life. I wouldn’t have believed you if you told me my life would only get better from there. It did, of course – I met Ron, went to Hogwarts, made friends with Hermione… and that was just the first year!�

“Ron’s my husband,� the woman told Dandelion.

“Wait,� Dandelion asked, “you two aren’t married?�

Both of them laughed. “No way,� Harry said. “Hermione’s like a sister to me.�

“Neither of our spouses could come today,� Hermione explained. “Ron helps his brother George with George’s shop some, and with all the kids stocking up on supplies before they head off to school, George really needed Ron’s help today. Ginny – Harry’s wife – is like a, er, sports correspondent for our newspaper, and there was a game she just couldn’t miss.�

“So you two are just friends from school?� I asked.

“That, and family too,� Harry replied. “My wife is Hermione’s husband’s sister. Even before we were married, Mrs. Weasley – Ron and Ginny's mum – treated us just like two more of her children.�

As they’d talked, they’d made their way through the crowds in Diagon Alley. Dandelion had seen a number of unbelievable sights, like a store selling owls and a poster advertising a new racing broom called the Lightningbolt II. She even thought she saw a man appear out of mid-air in front of her, but she dismissed that observation as ludicrous.

Now she found herself in front a small, dusty storefront, one of the least impressive that she’d seen so far. Overhead was a small sign swinging in the breeze. “Olivanders,� it read. “Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.�

A few minutes before, Dandelion would have been willing to dismiss such a sign without a second thought. Magical wands? Please. Yet she’d seen a number of inexplicable things since entering this Diagon Alley, and was, to her chagrin, beginning to accept that magic just might be the only explanation. Dandelion's skepticism is one of the things that makes her such a fabulous character.

Hopefully, though, the magical wand would not be hers. She still wasn’t sure about this magic stuff. She really didn’t want to have to spend good money on something she wasn’t sure wasn’t anything more than a trick.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with money on the mind. “Hey, what about Gringotts?� a voice behind her protested. Dandelion turned her head, and found the voice came from a boy with red hair and brown eyes. Despite the fact that he had sat next to her in the car, she hadn’t got his name yet.

“Your father stopped by Gringott’s yesterday and withdrew money from both our account and Harry’s family’s,� Hermione explained. “He figured we might be more short on time than usual, since we had to stop and get Dandelion.�

“Mum, can I just go ahead to Flourish and Blott’s and then all of you can meet me there?� Rose asked. She had been almost constantly looking at her watch ever since they’d gotten out of the car. “Scorpius is waiting.�

“So going out,� the boy with black hair and blue eyes – James, was it? – muttered.

“But Rosie, you can’t go!� exclaimed the younger red-haired girl, ignoring the boy’s comments. “We always are there as a family when somebody chooses a wand. It’s tradition!�

“Mum…� Rose pleaded.

“Rose, I’m sure Scorpius will understand if you’re a few minutes late since it’s a family thing,� Hermione said.

“Scorpius is always prompt,� Rose grumbled, but it was clear that she knew that she’d lost.

They entered the dusty shop. It was practically filled by rows upon rows of wooden shelves containing stacks and stacks of long, thin boxes. The whole group managed to fit, but it was a squeeze. Unfortunately, there was nobody behind the counter, so Dandelion had no idea how long they’d have to wait in such close quarters.

Just then, a man appeared from behind a shelf. He looked as ancient as could be, and when he spoke, her voice came out in the faintest of rasps. “Which is it this time, a Potter or a Weasley?�

“Neither, Mr Ollivander,� Harry replied, sounding extremely respectful. “My cousin’s granddaughter is starting Hogwarts and needs a wand.�

“Step forward, child,� said the old man – Mr Ollivander, apparently.

Dandelion wasn’t sure what was going to occur, but Mr Ollivander just seemed so strange somehow that Dandelion wasn’t sure that she wanted to find out. She stood her ground until the shorter red-haired girl gave her an understanding smile and a gentle smile, mouthing the word, “Go.� With trepidation, Dandelion slowly made her way to the front of the crowd of Harry’s family.

Dandelion was amazed at what happened next. She watched in disbelief as measuring tape, seemingly of its own accord, measured her. As well as doing normal measurements like height, it measured the distance between her nostrils, the width of her earlobes, and the length of each of her pinkies.

When the measurements were done, Mr. Ollivander seemed to ponder them for a minute. Then he flicked the stick he held in his hand, and a box zoomed from a shelf to Dandelion’s left into the old man’s hand. He opened it – lovingly, Dandelion thought, and took out its contents. It was another stick, though of a deeper colour than his own and somewhat longer.

“Mahogany, nine inches long, with a unicorn hair core,� Ollivander told them. “Lift it, child.�

“Why?� asked Dandelion.

“Just do it,� Lily counciled.

So Dandelion did. She felt like a fool there, standing in the middle of a dusty old shop with a stick with the eyes of more than half a dozen people fixed on her.

“No, that’s certainly not the one,� Ollivander said after an agonizingly long several seconds. “Why don’t you try the maple, twelve-and-a-half inches, with dragon heartstring?�

Once more, she stood with the stick in her hand, nothing happening. She felt like a fool. This spectacle repeated itself several times, until finally one let out a small spark when she waved it weakly.

“Ah,� Ollivander said sagely, “I think I know just the one.�

As soon as the twelve-and-an-eighth inch hazel wand with a phoenix feather core was handed to her, she felt an instant connection. The tug, the warmth, the connection she felt with this stick, though, inspired a stronger feeling in her than the blanket she’d dragged along everywhere she went until she was five.

Hardly even realising what she was doing, Dandelion swept the wand in an arch, and the arch of a rainbow swept out of her wand.

“You, child, have found your wand,� Ollivander pronounced.

Dandelion watched in a daze as Harry handed over the money to Mr. Ollivander for her wand. Yes, she’d seen some inexplicable things since she’d entered Diagon Alley, but being the cause of something inexplicable was completely different. Magic was undeniably real.

As the group walked out of the shop, Lily made her way over to Dandelion. “That was a pretty little piece of magic you performed back in Ollivander’s,� she complimented.

“Really?� Dandelion asked.

“Yeah,� said a redheaded boy who looked rather painfully tall and thin. “Most people just shoot off a bunch of sparks when they find their wand. I did. Even Uncle Harry did, and he’s the saviour of the wizarding world.�

Savior of the wizarding world? Dandelion wanted to ask what he meant, but Lily and tall boy continued telling her about magic. While she was measured for robes – yes, robes! – by a young blonde shop assistant at a place called Madam Malkin’s, Dandelion learned all about the different subjects she’d be studying at Hogwarts, like Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms. Dandelion was a bit doubtful that she’d ever be able to make a pineapple tap dance, but she decided not to worry about it. Why would she want to do something so silly in the first place?

Still, when they arrived at the bookstore called Flourish and Blott’s, Dandelion couldn’t wait to get her books for all these exciting-sounding subjects. She was too busy beginning to leaf through an interesting-looking booked called 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi to catch what Hugo (that was the tall redheaded boy’s named, she’d learned) and Lily were telling her about the time their granddad had brawled right where they were standing with a guy called Lucius Malfoy, who just happened to be the grandfather of Rose’s maybe-boyfriend, Scorpius.

After going to Flourish and Blott’s and making quite a number of stops – it felt to Dandelion like they’d walked the alley up and down three times – they made a stop a Fortescue’s ice cream parlour. The middle-aged woman behind the counter insisted on giving all eight of them free ice cream sundaes “in memory of my dear old dad, may he rest in peace.� They were the best ice cream sundaes that Dandelion had ever eaten in her life, with mounds of creamy vanilla ice cream drowning in lakes of chocolate sauce.

On the car ride back to Surrey, Dandelion sat between Hugo and Lily. The two of them were having a noisy debate about which magical sweets that could be bought on the Hogwarts’ Express Dandelion would enjoy more, cauldron cakes or Berty Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. However, Dandelion couldn’t hear them because Rose and James were having an argument about Scorpius, and Harry and Hermione’s attempts to calm them down only added to the noise level.

Really, Dandelion didn’t care that she was missing out on what Hugo and Lily were telling her. So much had happened to her since she’d left home earlier in the day that she was just trying to process it and decide what to tell her grandfather first.

When she stepped out of the car, she was almost sad to be home. Then Lily hopped out of the vehicle and gave her a big hug. Dandelion then knew what she was going to tell Grandpa Dudley as soon as she got in the door. She was going to tell him about the wonderful new friends she had made.

Dandelion awoke one morning just past dawn with a feeling of excitement in her stomach. Before she even realised what she was doing, she had gotten out of bed, gone into the bathroom, taken off her pajamas, and gotten into the shower. When the cool water hit her head, Dandelion finally fully awoke. It’s September first! she realised.

She continued to go through the motions of washing, but her mind was elsewhere. The feeling of excitement in her stomach remained, but it was joined by a much less pleasant feeling – nervousness. Dandelion couldn’t wait to see Uncle Harry’s family members again, especially Lily and Hugo. However, in the many days since her visit to Diagon Alley, Dandelion had almost begun to doubt her memories of the trip. They seemed too fantastic to be true.

Dandelion also was worried about her failing miserably at Hogwarts, both socially and academically. What if Lily and Hugo, being older and cooler, weren’t interested in being her friends at Hogwarts? What if she couldn’t make any other friends? What if she wouldn’t let herself be good at magic because she couldn’t quite believe in it? What if she was simply bad at magic?

By the time Dandelion had tied her bathrobe around herself and gone downstairs for breakfast, she had made herself so anxious that she didn’t have an appetite. She forced herself to at least nibble on a piece of toast, but ended up throwing it out when the butterflies in her stomach made her nauseous.

She went back upstairs to her bedroom. She rummaged through her drawers and closet, but none of the clothes she owned seemed right for the occasion. She finally forced herself to put on some dark blue jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt she’d bought when she’d gone shopping with her friend Sarah one time.

Sarah had been the one who tried the shirt on first, and it looked so good on her that Dandelion had decided that she wanted it, too. The next day, Dandelion regretted it. The shirt was made from a stretchy material that highlighted Sarah’s burgeoning curves. However, Dandelion had no curves to highlight so far. Later, she decided that the shirt was actually a good buy. What the jade-colored shirt did bring out was Dandelion’s green eyes.

Thinking about buying the shirt with Sarah had brought the situation with Dandelion’s friends to her mind. She had decided not to tell Sarah, Alice, and Cecily that she was going away to boarding school. This way, she could avoid awkward questions about her boarding school, such as why she suddenly wasn’t going to the local prep school. Besides, her once-close friendship with Sarah and Alice had been disintegrating throughout the last school year, and Cecily had really been more of Alice’s friend than hers. Going to Hogwarts without telling anyone seemed to be an easy way to bring these awkward relationships to a close.

~*~


A few hours later, the same sleek-looking black car that had brought Dandelion to Diagon Alley finally pulled into the driveway. Dandelion had long since given up hope that they’d ever show up. After she’d dressed, she’d repacked her trunk several times to make sure she hadn’t left anything out. Then she’d gone to the living room to watch for Harry’s arrival, but he and his family had been running late. Dandelion had begun to suspect that they’d just forgotten her.

So when they finally arrived, she shouted out gleefully, “They’re here!�

“How absurdly late, with no consideration for – “ Dudley started to complain as he came down the out of the kitchen, doughnut in hand, but then suddenly broke off what he was saying. Dandelion suspected it was because he’d seen the car. He’d always held people who drove expensive cars in high regard.

“Grandpa, are you sure that you don’t want to meet Uncle Harry’s family when they’re here?� Dandelion inquired.

“Not today, sweetheart,� her grandfather replied.

“Why not?� Dandelion inquired. “Uncle Harry’s your cousin. You’ve haven’t so much as phoned him the whole time I was growing up. Don’t you want to catch up with him?�

“Enough, Dandelion,� Dudley snapped. “I just want to worry about getting you off to school today.�

Dandelion hated when he used that tone. He didn’t usually use it too often, but he’d been slipping further and further into a Vernon Mood ever since she’d returned from Diagon Alley. Whenever he started seeming more like his normal self, Dandelion would make the mistake of bringing up something she’d seen in a shop at Diagon Alley or something Lily had told her that day. That only served to make Dandelion’s grandfather grumpier.

Dandelion was feeling rather grumpy herself. As well as being short with her, she found Grandpa Dudley’s reason for refusing to meet Harry’s family nonsensical. If her grandfather actually had to worry about making sure she got on the right train, she might believe his answer more. However, all he had to do was watch as she walked out the door and into Harry’s car. How could that stress him out so much that he couldn’t exchange pleasantries with a few people?

Dandelion didn’t want to part for a whole three and a half months on hard feelings, so she stepped towards him and threw her arms around as much of his wide girth as she could. She’d meant for it to be a quick hug, but Dudley pulled her closer and seemed unwilling to let her go. When he finally did, she spotted him hastily trying to wipe away a tear from his eye.

Trying to regain his composure, Dudley inquired, “You’re sure you have everything packed?�

“Yes, Grandpa,� Dandelion replied.

“And you’ll behave yourself?� he asked.

“Yes, Grandpa,� she repeated.

“Well, you better not make them wait any longer,� he said gruffly, but Dandelion was pretty sure she saw another tear glistening in his left eye.

Dandelion had grabbed her suitcase and opened the door when she suddenly stopped. She scampered back to where her grandfather stood and, balanced on tiptoes, planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Write, okay?� Dudley requested in a choked voice.

“Of course,� Dandelion whispered.

As she went out the door, he shouted, “But not with a ruddy owl!�

When she got outdoors, Dandelion discovered that Harry had been standing outside of the car, waiting for her. With a small smile, he took the suitcase from her and put it in the trunk as she climbed into the backseat of the car next to Lily.