Sofia had never Apparated before. Quite honestly, the only adult wizards she had ever met had been at Durmstrang, and the one wizard in Krakow who had loaned her an owl, though he vanished some days later, not that he had had a wand regardless. She quickly decided that she did not enjoy it one bit, and for a brief second thought she was going to suffocate.
Her feet found the earth again and it took her by surprise. Feeling queasy, she stumbled and fell onto polished, dark floor boards. The pine scent mixed with the smell of tobacco and warm biscuits.
There was a giggle. ‘I say! She’s not very graceful, is she?’ Sofia looked up to see a grinning girl of about her age, with dark hair and a strange accent. She wore a brown tartan dress and her hair was in a ballerina bun. ‘Diana! Pan! Ben!’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘Come and see the Jewish girl!’
‘Don’t shout, Minnie,’ came Mrs Brigham’s voice sternly as Sofia picked herself up off the floor. ‘What have I told you about creating an impression?’
Minnie adopted an expression of seriousness, but a small smile still played about her lips, and she was unable to hide her excitement. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked Sofia.
Sofia recognised the word ‘name’ vaguely from her single English class at Butlins, and hesitantly said ‘Sofia...? Sofia Goldhirsch.’
Minnie burst out laughing. ‘You don’t sound very sure!’
Sofia blushed and felt tearful. Was her name funny? What was wrong with it?
‘She doesn’t speak very good English, Minnie, be nice!’ snapped Mrs Brigham. The sounds of feet thundering down the stairs echoed through the kitchen. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, does nobody have any decorum in this house?’
Minnie hurried over to Sofia and held her hand. ‘I’m ever so sorry! Don’t worry, we’ll be best friends, and you’ll learn English.’ Sofia felt slightly better at Minnie’s warm smile and excited gaze. Her hand was soft and smooth and she pulled Sofia to meet three others. Two small children, a boy and a girl, peered up at her. The girl (Sofia assumed this was Diana) was perhaps only five, and her large chubby cheeks wobbled as she bounced over to Sofia to peer up at her with delighted interest. The young boy was slightly older, but he was sour- faced, scruffy and skinny. He stared intently up at Sofia.
‘My dad says to never trust a Jew.’
‘Do be quiet, you little urchin. My dad says never to trust you, but we still let you live here,’ said the last child, cuffing the small boy around the head. He was not really a child; he was bordering adulthood, and was effortlessly handsome, so much so that Sofia’s face reddened even more as he shook her hand and said, ‘I’m Pan. Pleased to meet you, kid.’
‘Minnie, go and find Sofia some good clothes. She looks dreadful. You three, help me with the dinner,’ said Mrs Brigham brusquely. ‘Benjamin! You little rotter, put that apple back.’
Minnie pulled Sofia through the kitchen and into a large drawing room. It was stunningly beautiful; a pale yellow with a marble fireplace and huge French-style windows, which looked southwards out towards rolling misty moors, with mountains in the distance. Minnie took Sofia to the other side of the room and up white marble stairs, lined with moving portraits which watched them curiously.
‘Ignore Ben,’ said Minnie chirpily, ‘he’s from London and he’s dreadful, I hope he doesn’t stay for long. You’ll get to meet Daddy tonight as well, but he’s at work at the moment. Daddy’s a Muggle, but he doesn’t have to fight in the war because he hasn’t got a leg. He lost it in the Great War. It’s not funny really, but he makes jokes about it and hops about pretending to be a flamingo, so it is a little bit funny.’
Sofia didn’t have the faintest idea what she was talking about, but she enjoyed Minnie’s cheerful tone, and, though she wasn’t sure, she thought Minnie had some sort of accent different from Mrs Brigham’s. It sounded friendly and warm.
The entered a dark, awkwardly shaped room, with wooden walls covered with photos and posters, a mixture of wizard and Muggle life. Two beds with tartan covers and soft white pillows provided the homes for a huge collection of teddy bears and dolls, and jigsaw pieces lay scattered across the floor.
‘This will be our room. Usually Diana sleeps in here too, that’s why there are so many toys. But she’s having Pan’s room because he’s going to fight with the Muggles. Mummy’s ever so annoyed about it.’ Minnie opened a large mahogany armoire and searched through. ‘Hmmm... red will clash with your hair. Perhaps green will suit you.’ She handed Sofia a green dress. ‘Put this on. I’ll take some of the teddies off your bed for you and put them in the study while you get changed.’
She left the room and, guessing and hoping she wasn’t being rude, Sofia put the dress on. It was pretty, but far too big for her malnourished body. Taking advantage of the first time she was left alone, Sofia reached into her bra and took out her now warm Star of David necklace. She put it on and felt comforted.
Minnie returned, smiling as usual, but her eyes widened when she saw Sofia. ‘Gosh, I didn’t realise how thin you are!’ She took out her wand and looked at it nervously. ‘I’m not allowed to do magic yet... but nobody will know. And I am very good at Transfiguration...’ She pointed the wand at Sofia, whose heart thumped nervously. She calmed down as the dress tightened gently around her, fitting itself around her narrow waist. ‘There,’ said Minnie, satisfied. ‘Perfect. I told you I was good. But don’t tell anyone what I did.’ She held a finger to her lips, and Sofia smiled and copied her, understanding. The girls giggled, and a friendship was made.
***
Dinner that evening took place in a red dining room with a dark mahogany table, polished to within an inch of its life. Sofia still felt awkward and uncomfortable, but she was entertained by the noise of the family chattering away, even if she could not understand it. Mr Brigham appeared to be a business man. Despite the fact that his left leg missing below the knee, he was dressed smartly and amusingly carried his briefcase on his back as he hopped around on his crutches. He had a big dark beard and a deep, bellowing laugh, and his first action upon seeing Sofia was to embrace her in a rib-cracking hug.
Ben, the small Londoner, seemed very out of place and resentful of the family, not to mention suspicious of Sofia. He kicked the table indignantly at the sight of vegetables, and as Mrs Brigham tried to persuade him, the lights flickered warningly. He was certainly destined to be a powerful, if rude, wizard. His temper tantrum, however, was ignored by all but Mrs Brigham, who eventually pulled him out of the room by his ear. Instead, the family seemed more fascinated by Sofia, though, admittedly, they had trouble remembering her name and often referred to her as ‘Sophie’.
Already they were helping her to learn English, and she giggled as they held up various objects for her to learn.
‘Fork.’
‘Fark?’
‘No, no, no! Silly Sophie! Foooooork. Fork.’
The laughter, the food, and the smiling faces were refreshing and comforting. For the first time since leaving her original home in the suburbs of Warsaw, Sofia felt safe and happy. Thoughts of her family were even pushed out of her mind as she happily struggled over the word ‘cucumber’.
Minnie seemed especially fond of Sofia, and Diana was absolutely amazed; every adoring gaze and admiring glance made Sofia chuckle, especially when Diana copied her pose and accent. Pan, however, although friendly, seemed distracted. There seemed to be some tension between him and his mother, and Sofia was confused to see him in a Muggle uniform for dinner. As the moon rose, so did Pan, and he kissed his stony- faced mother on the cheek before he left the room. Through the window, Sofia and the family watched his silhouette walk down the path, stop, and vanish.
‘He’s going to get himself killed,’ said Mrs Brigham grumpily. ‘A full moon is a perfect night for a raid.’
‘Ach, nonsense! He’s a smart lad, he’ll do us proud,’ said Mr Brigham, helping himself to more salad.
Mrs Brigham threw down her knife and fork onto her plate with a clatter, and Sofia was shocked to see her eyes water. ‘For heaven’s sake, Gerald, I have no idea why you had to plant that ridiculous idea in his head. Just because you can’t serve doesn’t mean your son should! He’s not even a Muggle!’ With that, she left the room, wiping her face and breathing heavily.
An awkward silence fell. Minnie’s lips turned into a thin, stern line, not unlike her mother’s usual expression.
‘Very sorry, Sophie,’ said Mr Brigham light-heartedly. ‘Emotional girl, is my wife.’
Sofia did not understand but nodded.
‘It’s So-fee-ah, Daddy,’ said Minnie after a few moments, obviously trying to break the tension. ‘Not Sophie.’
He chuckled. ‘Ah, very sorry, Sofia. Now, I think it’s time for everyone to trot off up to bed. Run along now.’
***
Mother wore a blue dress and a necklace in the shape of a star. Father was dressed smart and Oskar was crying. Ben stamped his feet at the table where hundreds of teeth lay and Uncle Frank picked out the tiny gold stars embedded inside them, while Mrs Brigham watched sternly. And so Sofia dreamed as a midnight gale whipped around the house like a scream.
***
The next morning, Minnie woke Sofia with a hefty shake and insisted on pulling Sofia’s hair into a tight bun. ‘Your hair is so soft!’ she proclaimed. ‘It’s a shame the colour is a bit pale. Ooh, your necklace is pretty.’ She pointed to Sofia’s necklace. ‘Necklace,’ she said slowly, smiling. Sofia repeated it, and then said ‘Gwiazda Dawida.’
‘Dawida?’ asked Minnie, frowning. ‘Oh, David? Star of David? Jewish? Juden?’
Sofia nodded, grinning. ‘Tak, tak!’ She paused and tried to repeat in English. ‘Sar... ov... Davida?’
‘No. Star...’
‘Star...’
‘Of David.’
‘Of David,’ repeated Sofia. ‘Star of David. Jewish. Star of David.’
Minnie squealed and hugged her. ‘You’re learning so fast! I think I shall start teaching you spelling and reading today, so you can do the work in Hogwarts. But first, we’ll go for a walk. I’ll show you the Scottish countryside, and teach you the names of outdoor things.’
Sofia followed Minnie out of the house into a stone courtyard, where Ben was chasing chickens. He stopped at the sight of the girls, and asked Minnie, ‘Has she nicked anything yet?’
‘Go away, Ben, of course she hasn’t. You’re the only snotty thief around here.’
‘Why does a Jew pick his nose? Because it’s cheaper than using a hanky.’
‘You little wretch! Go back to London, I don’t care if you get bombed.’
Ben laughed, stuck out his tongue and ran off. Minnie watched him sourly, her face as stern and severe as her mother’s.
‘Wretch?’ said Sofia.
‘Yes, wretch! Ben is a wretch! Wretch, wretch, wretch! Hmph.’
Sofia laughed. ‘Mean of Jew?’ she asked, almost amused.
Minnie started and looked at her. ‘W-what? I thought you speak no English. How did you understand?’
‘Word “Jew”. Deutsch “Juden”. Nazi mowi “Juden! Juden!”’ Sofia spat the word as she had heard it so many times before. Minnie watched, her face still, her lips thin. ‘Ben no Jew like?’
‘ Ignore him. You are a fast learner, aren’t you? Come on, follow me. Chicken,’ she said, pointing. Sofia giggled, fond of the goofy birds. Minnie continued to teach her the names of the world around her and chattered away animatedly in her usual cheerful tone, but there was still some sternness in her face, and Sofia found herself wishing she had pretended to not understand Ben’s feelings towards her.
***
As the summer progressed, Sofia became, out of sheer necessity, better and better at English. Although very often the family had to speak very slowly around her and the majority of her comprehension was guess work, she was at least able to hold a basic conversation, even if Minnie was the only one who seemed able to call her ‘Sofia’ rather than ‘Sophie’.
She spent her days walking into the nearby village with Minnie, talking and learning as she went, then went from shop to shop, house to house, business to business begging anyone who would listen to give her parents a job. If they had jobs waiting for them, she reasoned, the government may be more inclined to allow them to stay. Her correspondence with them had been fragmented and difficult. Her parents were clearly withholding some information from her, and she herself found that she did not want to describe how happy she was; surely she should be horrifically homesick? Missing them? Begging to come home? Wouldn’t normal children feel awkward and uncomfortable and isolated in a house of strangers?
Perhaps they would. However Sofia found herself utterly at home, and blissfully happy. Mr Brigham was, she gathered, a Muggle, and thus the balance between Muggle and wizarding life was so perfect that Sofia found herself neither yearning for home nor overwhelmed by an immersion into magic after so many years in the ghetto. She was even able to enjoy Muggle activities which she had remembered from so many years ago; Pan had kindly taken them to the cinema to watch a Mickey Mouse film, at which Minnie was delighted to see a character with the same name.
‘And there’s going to be a film about a baby elephant in October!’ she squealed delightedly. ‘I read it in my magazine.’
Even Ben showed occasional signs of happiness on such outings to the village and, despite the near constant abuse she received from him, something about Ben’s fierce temper and mischief entertained her, and she felt a strange sense of protectiveness over him. He reminded her of one of the ghetto children, and his constant praise of his own father brought back memories of some of the neighbouring orphans in Krakow. Angry, bitter and lost. So it was for this memory that she didn’t snap at him as the Brigham’s did, and tried, on occasion to show him some kindness. This was usually ill-received, but she took it with grace.
She did miss her parents, but her gratefulness to be out of the ghetto resulted in a distinct lack of sadness when she thought about them. They had assured her, after all, that they would join her shortly, and next year, Oskar could come to Hogwarts too.
On the 22nd of June 1941, Sofia’s Hogwarts letter arrived, hidden inside thick parchment with rich green ink and a dark waxy seal. At the exact moment she opened the envelope, a group of Russian women and children were led into a forest by cigarette-smoking Germans. Sofia Floo’d to Diagon Alley as the last strange lullaby was silenced with a bang.
Bicie Serca by BlueJoker
Chapter Notes: This may confuse some people... A few weeks ago I updated the story, but I submitted chapter seven by accident. I am very stupid and very very sorry, particularly to those kind people who left such lovely reviews. So, here is the missing chapter. I'm also pleased to tell you that this story has been nominated for the QSQs, and I'm very thankful to those who have been supporting me. Now please do enjoy this somewhat lighter chapter.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you to my beta and moderator who were great helps in all the confusion.