The weeks passed far too quickly for Lizzie's liking. Although she behaved a bit more sensibly about moving to England than Dora did, she did feel sad about leaving their cosy New Zealand home. Before she knew it, it was three days before their departure, and most of the things in the house had been packed up. Lizzie found herself wandering through the hallways, Cornix padding at her heels. She drank in everything about the house, and stored it all in her memory. She stopped walking, however, at the door to Dora's bedroom, and bent down to peer through the keyhole.

Dora sat on her bed, looking miserable and angry. Lizzie sighed, and opened the door. Dora looked up sharply, and a scowl crept across her face. "Go away, Lizzie," she said fiercely. "I don't want to talk right now." Albion, her terrier, lay across her lap, and she absently ran her fingers through his fur as she spoke.

"Dora, I don't want to go either," Lizzie said, sitting down on the bed next to her sister. "This is just as much my home as it is yours. But it's the way things have to be. England was mother's home, and she left it. And now she's going back. It'll be just like that for us. I promise."

"How can you promise anything?" Dora grumbled, stroking Albion's head. "And even if we do come back, it's seven years to wait. Seven years! And what's Hogwarts like? Probably full of posh little English eleven year-olds."

"You may like it," Lizzie said. "I'm going too. At least we'll have each other."

"But you're the right age for starting," Dora said. "I'm twelve. A year late. I'll be behind on everything -"

"No you won't," Lizzie said. "Mother's taught you things. You'll be in second year. And they say at Hogwarts you get sorted by a talking hat - into either Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Doesn't that sound nice? You get to be in your own house common room. Gryffindors are brave, they say, Ravenclaws are smart, Hufflepuffs are loyal, and Slytherins are ambitious. They say the Slytherin common room is under this lake, and there's a big window where you can look out and see -"

"I don't care, Lizzie," Dora said stubbornly. "I'd much rather stay here."

"So would I," Lizzie said quietly.

There was a pause.

"Well, you have to finish your packing," Lizzie said, standing up. "And try to think on the positive side of things, will you?" Then she walked to the door and slipped out, glancing briefly behind her as she went. Dora wasn't scowling anymore, but looking thoughtful. Hopefully I've improved things a little bit, Lizzie thought. She stepped out into the hall where Cornix sat waiting for her. Bending down to stroke his dark head, Lizzie hoped her reassurances to Dora would reassure her too, because she felt she was going to need them.


The morning of their departure dawned sunny and bright. The family planned to use a portkey to the airport and from there travel non-magically, for there was no Floo Powder network to other countries, and apparation was impossible for such a long way, of course. Since the first sliver of light had appeared on the horizon, Lizzie had been saying goodbye to everything in and around her home. She had been out in the bush, where the birds had flocked to bid her farewell. She had been in the trees, having a final conversation with them (for yes, the Scamander sisters talked to trees). She had been in the house, wandering all through their home and appreciating being in it one last time. Dora and Matilda had been with her, and now the three sisters reluctantly assembled in the living room, waiting for their parents to gather all their things together around the portkey.

"Please stay still, Cornix," Lizzie said, as the black cat struggled in her arms. "I know you don't want to leave, and you don't understand what's going on, but - ow!" She winced in pain as Cornix's claws dug into her arm. "Cornix, settle down," she said. She looked around at her two sisters, Matilda of whom was trying to settle her owl chick, and Dora, who was patting Albion as he sat dutifully beside her. Lizzie glanced twice at Dora - her older sister’s face had been forced into a brave face, but her eyes flashed and her hands were clenched into fists.

“There, that’s about it,” Mr Bellamy said, placing a large trunk next to the old tin can that was the portkey. The New Zealand Ministry of Magic had provided them with it, as a method of quick transport to the nearest Muggle airport.

“Have you said goodbye, girls?” Mrs Scamander asked, emerging from her bedroom with her pet snidget fluttering at her shoulder.

“Of course,” Dora said bitterly.

“I thought so,” Mrs Scamander said. “Well, in that case, it’s time to go.”

Lizzie couldn’t help the tear that trickled down her cheek. The emotions that she had strictly bundled into a monitored ball had let loose, and now the tears she had held back for so long came flooding out. Mrs Scamander wrapped an arm around her and held her in an affectionate embrace. “I know, I know,” she said gently. “But Elizabeth Leta Scamander, you are probably the strongest out of all of us! You’ve kept yourself so well restrained - you should have seen me last night!”

Lizzie smiled weakly. Dora, who had looked up sharply at her mother’s last sentence, scowled. “If you really cared so much you wouldn’t make us move at all,” she said.

Mrs Scamander didn’t reply. She just sighed and patted Lizzie reassuringly on the shoulder.

“Crikey, is that the time?” Mr Bellamy said, peering at his watch. “The portkey is set for quarter past one - we have to hurry. Are we all ready?”

Matilda closed the door of her owl’s cage and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Oh, our dear old house!”

“We will come back to it one day, Matilda, I promise,” Mr Bellamy said, stroking his youngest daughter’s hair. “Now, everyone gather round. Make sure you’re all touching the portkey, else you’ll be left behind.” He looked sternly at Dora. “I’ll be holding your hand to it, missy. Now, everyone touch a piece of luggage - it must come with us. Ready?”

Lizzie braced herself. She slipped Cornix into his basket and grabbed the handle of her trunk.

“On the count of three,” Mr Bellamy said. “Three...”

Lizzie cast one last look around the room. Cornix meowed.

“Two...”

She swallowed, feeling a bit better having received her mother’s soothing reassurances.

“One...”

And then she glanced at her sisters. Dora’s gaze met hers, and they locked eye-contact.

“Go!”

Lizzie felt herself jerked forward, the room was twisting and turning, and then the family was gone. The room was empty.