I didn't go to Hogwarts that fall—I went back to my normal Muggle school and had to put up with Muggle teachers and Muggle lessons. And despite having convinced myself that Dumbledore was a fraud and that Hogwarts was a trap, I found school utterly boring that year. Not that previous years were all that different—this year just seemed especially so. My curiosity and my imagination had me wound up like a little mechanical toy, but school was like a vice grip that prevented my parts from moving. End the end, I barely managed to squeak by with passing marks in the fall term.

 

The Christmas holiday was a welcome relief from the boredom of school. As the 25th approached, my parents and I dashed madly about, making preparations, because we planned to have much of my extended family out that year. My uncle Nicholas was bringing his trademark beef jerky, a recipe he had supposedly learned from a Native American reservation he had visited years ago. My grandparents were bringing their most excellent fudge, and many cousins were bringing themselves—so naturally I was excited to have someone my own age to talk to. But most of all I was excited to see my mother's step-sister, Amanda.

Aunt Amanda was that one special relative that I was always glad to have over, who never got on my nerves. She always had an interesting story or a fun diversion planned. She rarely raised her voice and always apologized when she did. I loved her dearly, as did most of the family.

 

She was my mother's sister, and they were usually friendly to each other, she and Mum. However, I always got the sense that there had been some bad blood between them over the years that they'd never quite worked out. I didn't know or question why; I just always tried to temper my enthusiasm about seeing Amanda when my mum was in the room.

The evening she arrived I was doodling in my sketch book in the front parlor, and I kept tossing excited glances out the window, hoping she'd be pulling into our drive at any minute. Sometimes she would bring over some strange board game I'd never heard of and we'd play for hours. I hoped that would be the case this time. Or maybe one of her stories about dragons—the vivid details she gave made it seem almost like dragons were real.

 

When she finally got there, I watched as she carried her bags down the hall and past the parlor; I threw my sketch book down, rushing in to greet her. I saw my mum duck out of the room and into the kitchen, and that's when I made my move, rushing up behind Amanda and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Guess who!� I said, certain she couldn't see me no matter how much she craned her neck. She was rather tall, after all.

 

“Kelsey?� she said, naming my cousin but knowing it was me. Her red hair bobbed as she cocked her head to the side, miming intense concentration.

 

“Nope!�

 

“Cornelius Fudge?�

 

I giggled. “Who?�

 

“Hm.... Is it Michelle Coplin?�

I laughed and let go, and she turned around and wrapped me in a big hug too. “It's good to see you, Michelle.� She smiled, looking down at my bare feet and then up at my stringy blonde hair. “You've grown a lot, dear.�

 

“I'm almost pubescent!� I beamed. “Pretty soon I'll be rebelling against authority and whining about how nobody understands me.�

 

“I'm sure you will, dear. Now listen, I've got to unpack my things, and then I'll come down and we can talk all about the weird transformations that you're body and mind are going to go through.�

“Okay!�

I watched her head up the stairs, and then slipped into the kitchen where mum was pouring herself some tea. “Aunt Amanda's here!� I said, for once forgetting to keep my enthusiasm dampened.

My mom's face flickered, a sad smile appearing and almost vanishing in the same instant.

 

I can't help but wonder if she had already suspected.

 

0000

 

Christmas Eve was wonderful. My extended family all gathered 'round the table for dinner, prayed for God to bless our food, and then spent the entire evening talking and laughing about the past year and all the things that had happened therein. Of course, there were a few details my parents left out involving a certain letter from a certain school and a visit from a particular wizard. I wisely said nothing on the subject either.

As we were about to go to bed, there was a shout from outside in the voice of one of my younger cousins, and I pulled the door open just as two furry black things rushed past my legs, barking madly.

“Eustace's dogs are in the house!� I called, rushing to the parlor, where I found them tearing apart a cushion. “Bad dogs!� I shouted, and grabbed their improvised chew toy. I tried to pull it out of their mouths. It was a valiant effort, but ultimately futile, and the cushion was ripped to shreds before Uncle Eustace was able to get his dogs to calm down. He dragged them back outside, where my little cousin Trisha was standing, the seat of her blue jeans covered in mud and snow.

 

She cried something about wanting to open the cage to pet the dogs; when she did they'd knocked her on her bum and rushed by, heading straight for the door to the house.

Stupid dogs, I thought. They had tracked mud all through the hall and into the parlor. My mother and Amanda both appeared in the threshold behind me, and my mother instructed me to go upstairs and gets some dirty towels out of the hamper to wipe up the mud. I thundered up the stairs as quickly as I could, while Mum stalked off, I figured to get something to clean the rug.

 

I ran back down the stairs with an armful of towels and made it to the parlor before my mother.

And I stopped dead in my tracks, because all the mud the dogs had tracked in was suddenly gone, the only evidence that it had ever been there in the form of my aunt wiping a spot on the wall with a single dirty paper towel that couldn't have possibly cleaned the whole room. Her right hand was hidden in a pocket inside her coat, but she removed it with an action that she must have thought to be inconspicuous. I only remember it now in hindsight, really.

 

“Wh...where did all the mess go?� I asked, staring at the sparkling clean room.

“Oh, I got it,� Amanda said. “No worries.�

 

I stared at her for a moment, and then turned and took the towels back up to the utility room.

 

The following morning we exchanged gifts; Amanda had bought me a copy of the game Super Mario Bros 3, which I cherished even though I didn't have a Nintendo to play it on. I could always take it over to my friend Rupert's house. I got various other gifts from the rest of my family, and Amanda gave my mom a rather wicked-looking gothic mirror that she hanged in the parlor.

Of course, when she did so that only brought my thoughts back to Amanda's mysterious, impossibly fast clean-up of said parlor.

 

It would be another six months before I'd get answers.

 

0000

 

I finished out the spring term with better marks than the fall term and went into the summer holiday with my mum and dad easier to get along with than they had been before. On the first week out of school, I was walking home from Rupert's house (he lived just two houses over) and saw the postman stuffing envelopes into our box. I waited for him to leave and then grabbed all the post and took it inside, thumbing through it just in case the rare letter for me came through. Next week was my birthday and I had expected my grand parents to send some pocket money—or at least a note wishing me a happy twelfth.

 

There was nothing addressed to me, but one letter did catch my eye—a letter to Mum and Dad from Aunt Amanda. Totally ignoring the scorn I knew I'd receive from my parents, I ripped the envelope open and read it.

 

Dear Olivia and Don

 

I hope you're both well and that things are going swimmingly at work, for both of you. I'm actually writing in regards to Michelle, God bless her. She's awfully pale, and I wonder if she doesn't spend too much time inside. I was wondering if you would allow me to invite her to stay with me for a few weeks this summer. I feel that a little fresh air and hard work would do her some good. Olivia, I know we've not always seen eye to eye on some matters, but you know I love Michelle as much as any aunt could love her niece. I'd like to have her on her birthday, if possible, as I've got a surprise I'm sure she'll enjoy.

Thanks for your quick response

Love always

Amanda

 

'Thrilled' doesn't even begin to describe the emotion that fluttered through me. Spending multiple weeks out at her house was like a dream vacation. I'd only been to Amanda's house once, when I was about five years old, and I barely remembered it. She lived out in the country where an old farm used to be. Now she had several greenhouses that she tended, originally the dream of her husband. He had died about twelve years ago, before I was born, and Aunt Amanda never talked about him much except to say that he was a good man.

 

Just then I heard keys scratching at the door, and I panicked. I threw the letter down on top of the others on the worktop in the kitchen and took off up the stairs, flopping onto my bed as I entered my room. I grabbed my sketchbook and hastily sketched out something that might vaguely have looked like David fighting Goliath. If you looked at it in a fun house mirror. Wearing foggy glasses.

 

Act non-nonchalant I told myself.

 

I expected mum to storm up the hall any minute, and my mind began racing with all sorts of negative possibilities. What if they made me clean the toilets? Or worse, what if they said I couldn't go to Amanda's? I'd been such an idiot, opening that letter.

I kept waiting for a long time, and didn't leave my room until my mother called me down for dinner. I saw all the letters on the worktop neatly stacked and opened, while my parents sat at the table and prepared to eat. I sat down with them, and we prayed over the food and began eating. Mum and dad talked briefly about their day while I stabbed vacantly at my potatoes with my fork. Finally, my mom looked over to me and spoke.

“Michelle, dear,� she said, “Your father and I got a letter from your aunt Amanda today—�

 

I don't know if she trailed off, or if I interrupted her. “I'm sorry!� I squeaked. I winced, waiting for the reprimand.

 

My father blinked. “Sorry?�

 

I stared at him silently for a second, tossing a glance at Mum too; if they didn't know what I was apologizing for, I wasn't about to confess.

 

“As I was saying,� my mum continued, “Amanda wanted you to spend a few weeks with her this summer. At first I wasn't keen on it...� Mum definitely trailed off this time, her voice suggesting that she didn't want or need to explain why she wasn't keen on letting me go.

“But I think I've talked her into it, sweetheart,� dad finished. He turned to mum. “I think Amanda's jolly right: the fresh air and sunshine would do Michelle some good. All she does during the summer is sit in the house sketching or playing Nintendo with Rupert. Unnatural, it is. Girls her age need to get a taste of life outside the home, like ol' Queen Jezebel.�

“You don't have to press the point any farther, Don,� mum said. “You've already convinced me.�

 

“And wasn't Jezebel eaten by dogs?� I asked pointedly. My father looked at me and blinked apologetically.

 

I did not want to be eaten by dogs.

 

0000

 

On my birthday, July 11th, I arrived at Amanda's house. It was just outside of Beverly in East Yorkshire. After bidding my parents goodbye, I dragged my trunk up the grassy hill to her cabin, looking warily for any vicious dogs in the vicinity. Seeing none, I approached the big brown mahogany door. Not finding a bell, I knocked several times and waited. A moment later, the door slid open and my aunt welcomed me in.

“I'm so glad they let you come out here,� she said, leading me into the kitchen. “Here, make yourself at home. I was just poured two cups of tea, help yourself. I'll take your bag upstairs.�

She grabbed my bag and took off. I took the tea and immediately felt better, as soon as it touched my lips. I started walking around the house, taking in the details. Some things were just as I remembered them, but even my clearest memories were a bit hazy. The front room was massive, with a ceiling as high as the entire two-story house. The walls were dotted with small photographs and other knickknacks, and comfortable looking armchairs and couches sat around a small table in the middle of the room.

 

There was a stone fireplace on the far side of the room, but no fire was necessary with the heat of summer encompassing the house.

 

I sank into a green armchair and sipped my tea for a few minutes, until Amanda came back down the stairs holding a long rectangular box wrapped up in green paper and yellow ribbon. She handed it to me, a big smile on her face. “Happy Birthday, Michelle!�

 

I pretended I had no idea the surprise was coming, and honestly I was excited enough that I didn't need to fake the smile. I ripped open the paper and threw it on the floor, and opened the box to find...

“A broom...?� I said, staring at the red broom in the box. It was definitely a broom, though, it seemed as though it were a broom designed for racing—which was of course, an absurd notion. There were golden letters emblazoned on one end of the broomstick that said Roc-360, which was absolute gibberish to me. I pulled it out and stared at it.

“Do you want me to do chores or something?� I asked, feeling disappointed and rather hurt. “I mean your big surprise you wrote about was a broom?�

 

She smirked. “Read my letter, did you?�

 

Oooh, busted. I blushed.

 

Amanda continued, “Someone has got to teach you to do your share of the chores,� Amanda said. “And don't worry sweetheart, we'll still have time for fun. I just don't want you to think you can lay about all day like you do at home.�

 

“I do not!� I said, perhaps too defensively.

“Don't you?� she crossed her arms over her chest. “Other than the church activities your mom makes you go to, what do you typically do during the summer?�

“Um, well, I usually draw,� I said, trying hard to think of how I could make Amanda understand how hard I worked. “And... sometimes I trim hedges for my father, and once I helped the lady across the street clean out her gutters. Though I'd rather not do that again, if I can help it.�

 

She nodded. “Well, good, good. I don't need my gutters cleaned, fortunately. But while you're here, I'll expect you to help me with the yard work, to help out if I need you in the Greenhouses, and to always pick up after yourself and clean your own messes.�

 

“I'm twelve, Amanda, not five.� I was trying hard to stay mad at her, but the mental game of Twister (a Muggle game in which the players twist their bodies in compromising positions in order to touch colored dots) I was playing kept ending with me falling over in the face of her logic.

 

I had to admit, I was pretty lazy.

 

“But for now,� Amanda said with a smile,“I've got tickets to see Batman Returns at the cinema, and if you don't go with me, you're going to have a very boring night with the house all to yourself.�

 

I beamed. “You are the best aunt ever. Even if you give crummy birthday presents.�

 

An hour later we were about to depart in her ancient Ford Prefect when I looked down the hill from her drive and noticed a row of greenhouses sitting between us and the setting sun. Three of them looked normal, but the one farthest to the right was overgrown with weeds all around it, and looked burnt out, as though a fire had ravaged it years ago.

 

“What happened to the fourth greenhouse?� I asked as I sat down in the front seat of her car.

 

Amanda looked down at the set of keys in her hand, a frown flashing across her face before she returned to a neutral expression. “My husband, Paul, was killed when that greenhouse caught fire. It happened not long before you were born.�

Her eyes flickered to the wheel, and she started the ignition.

“I've just never had the heart to fix it up again.�

 

On that cheerful note, we pulled out of the drive and headed off towards the cinema..