Isabell Bluesky lived in a small house near The Leaky Cauldron. She had long, wavy dark brown hair and almond-shaped eyes that were greenish-brown in colour. She had a slight tan and light coloured lips. She was very smart as well, and had a great love for food (though she was very skinny). Isabell's mother was a Muggle but her father was a wizard. They were really kind parents, probably the kindest.  

‘Honey, do you want some breakfast?’ her mother inquired.   

‘Sure, mum. Thanks,’ replied Isabell, nodding. ‘Bacon, please.’

‘Good luck getting your supplies!’ her father beamed.

‘Thanks, dad,’ Isabell replied, her mouth full with bacon. ‘Hope you get promoted at work!’

Isabell’s father worked at the ministry. He was high in ranks, not as high as Amelia’s father though. He looked exactly like Isabell but with black hair. Their family had been saving up wizarding money to buy a mansion. Isabell had been dreaming of living there for a long time. Her parents agreed that Isabell and her mother would both go and get the school things. She was very happy when she got her acceptance letter because her magical abilities didn’t show themselves. 

Isabell ate her breakfast (which was bacon and eggs) and rushed to her room. She picked out the best clothes she had and called out to her mother.

‘I’m ready, mum!’

‘Ok, honey, one more minute!’ her mother sang from her room.

Isabell stepped in the living room after she was dressed. Her hair was tied into her usual high ponytail.

‘Dad?’ Isabell called, walking over to her father, who was still sitting in a chair in front of the table and was reading a magical newspaper, which was called The Daily Prophet. The people in the pictures were moving. 

‘Yes, dear?’  

‘What was it like at Hogwarts when you attended?’ questioned Isabell as it had been on her mind for a while.

What if I don't have any friends? What if I fail? What if-

‘It was actually great! I was sorted into Ravenclaw and my friend James Potter, whom I had met in a Quidditch world cup, was sorted into Gryffindor in our first year,’ replied Mr. Bluesky. ‘He forgot about me in his second year though. He was hanging out with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettingrew-’

‘Oh,’ said Isabell, interrupting her father’s incoming speech. ‘But… he’s dead now isn’t he?’ 

‘Yeah, it’s sad. I think his son, Harry Potter, is attending Hogwarts this year. Poor boy, no parents to help him. I’ve told you his story before. All about You-Know-Who (‘Voldemort,’ he whispered quickly.).’

‘I’m done!’ Mrs. Bluesky announced, walking in. 

She was wearing a blue knee-height dress which had a dark floral pattern on the edges. Her hair was down to her elbows and she had rosy cheeks, glowing blue eyes and pink lips. She looked as beautiful as ever. Mr. Bluesky thought so too. 

‘You look pretty, darling,’ Mr. Bluesky acknowledged, smiling. 

‘Oh, well, thank you…’  

Mrs. Bluesky blushed pink.

‘Ok, will we go now?’ asked Isabell eagerly, disgusted by her parent’s romance and rolling her eyes.

‘It depends, do you have your acceptance letter?’ asked Mrs. Bluesky, her cheeks were still a bit pink and Mr. Bluesky’s ears went red. 

‘Yep! Right here,’ replied Isabell.  

Mrs. Bluesky took the letter from Isabell and started reading through the supplies.

‘You wizards and witches really do need a lot of things for school,’ sighed Mrs. Bluesky. ‘Ok, then, let’s go.’

‘Bye, Izzy!’ Mr. Bluesky smiled at Isabell then nodded to Mrs. Bluesky. 

They headed towards The Leaky Cauldron that Isabell had to lead her mother to since her mother was a Muggle. They went in. There were many people, some were elderly, some were middle-aged and some were just above 18. They all wore pointy hats and similar coloured cloaks that touched the dusty floor. There was also a youthful looking woman who had wavy black hair tied into a stylish bun with light bangs and dull frost blue eyes. She also had ivory-coloured skin. She glared enviously at Mrs. Bluesky hard, then at Isabell, who stared back nervously.  

‘I think it says there’s a back door that leads to a brick wall that we need to tap with a wand to get to Diagon Alley, good thing we borrowed your father’s old wand.’

‘Mum, I don’t think you’ll be able to do it cause you’re a- uhm…’ 

‘It’s ok, you can do it, or we’ll ask someone’.

‘Can I try before we ask for help? You know, to see if I really am a witch?’ ventured Isabell hastily.  

‘Alright… and I’m sure you can do it, but be careful,’ agreed Mrs. Bluesky, giving a wide smile. 

Isabell grabbed the wand excitedly from her mother and went to the brick wall. She tapped a dark red brick two times and to her surprise… It worked!

‘Mum! I’m a witch! I really am!’ boasted Isabell proudly as she sashayed in a funny way to the alley.   

‘Of course you are! How’d you expect you got that letter?’ laughed Mrs. Bluesky as she followed her daughter.