Isabell was at the Bluesky Mansion, playing with Ivan, who was now six years old. Isabell’s skin was still tanned and her eyes still greenish-brown. The weather outside was blazing hot, like they were in the middle of a desert. Not a single swoosh of wind passed by the large, blue-painted mansion. Isabell and Ivan were in the mansion’s living room, with Isabell telling Ivan the basics of playing a Wizarding game called Gobstones.

‘...and the loser gets liquid squirted on their faces…’ Isabell finished explaining. 

‘Izzbell! Where are mummy and daddy?’ Ivan whined, plainly not having even bothered to listen to what Gobstones was all about. 

‘For the one millionth time, it’s Izz-a-bell. I’m not Izz-bell, as in “is bell”. You used to say it correctly, what the heck- I mean- what happened?’ 

‘Izz-a-bell, I know, I’m just annoying you,’ Ivan giggled. ‘Is bell,’ he then mimicked through hysterical giggles.

‘Well, anyway, I’m waiting for them to come home because I was supposed to be meeting up with Amelia,’ Isabell replied, rolling her eyes. 

‘She can come here,’ Ivan suggested, not giggling anymore. 

‘For the first time in six years, Ivan, I love your idea. Mocha!’

A chocolate brown owl came swooping down to Isabell. Mocha had placid, orange eyes that rested at Isabell while affectionately stroking Isabell’s arm with her feather-coated wing. Isabell quickly wrote a letter with a feather quill saying:

Hey Amelia, please come to the Bluesky Mansion as soon as possible. You don’t need to get anything. There is food and an extra room and extra clothing if you would like to sleep at the mansion. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon!

Thanks,

Isabell,

Your fellow best friend. 

Isabell rolled the parchment and placed a blue ribbon around it. Isabell stroked Mocha’s feathers and the owl hooted happily. She attached the letter to Mocha, who immediately flew to an open window. Isabell decided to read The Daily Prophet while she was waiting for Mocha’s return. She got out the most recent one her father, Riley Bluesky, had come with from work. There were great, bold letters that quickly grabbed Isabell’s attention: HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?. There was a black and white picture of a fifteen year old boy, with perpetually untidy black hair, his mother's bright green eyes, and a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, next to Albus Dumbledore, who was apparently talking. 

The captions underneath the moving black and white picture said: 

HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?

Rumours continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more. “We’re not allowed to talk about it, don’t ask me anything,” said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night. Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centred on the fabled Hall of Prophecy. Though Ministry spokes wizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter “the Chosen One,” believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although there have been some rumours that it broke.

Isabell raised her eyebrows, eager to read some more articles.

SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE

Rufus Scrimgeour, previously Head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the Wizarding community, though rumours of a rift between the new Minister and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, surfaced within hours of Scrimgeour taking office. Scrimgeour’s representatives admitted that he had met with Dumbledore at once upon taking possession of the top job, but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn. “For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans,” said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of countercurses, and a small task force of Aurors dedicated solely to the protection of Hogwarts School. Most seem reassured by the new Minister’s tough stand on student safety. Mrs Augusta Longbottom spoke, “My grandson, Neville, a good friend of Harry Potter’s, incidentally, who fought the Death Eaters alongside him at the Ministry in June and…-

Isabell closed the newspaper, for she heard some noises near the door. She slowly got up and warily opened the door only an inch or two. 

‘Who’s there?’ Isabell spoke quietly, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. 

‘Izzy, it’s me,’ Mr. Bluesky’s gentle voice said from outside.  

‘What’s the first word you taught me to say when I was young?’ Isabell asked demandingly. 

‘It really isn’t necessary to ask-’ 

‘You might be a Death Eater for one thing!’

‘Fine! The first word I taught you was: blue!’ 

Isabell fully opened the door and let her father in, who looked annoyed by what his daughter had done.

‘I’m trying to protect myself, you know,’ Isabell assured, rolling her eyes. ‘I read in a ministry leaflet you had to do that to check if someone was a Death Eater.’

‘Anything happen while I was gone?’ Mr. Bluesky said, ignoring Isabell. 

‘Well, Ivan annoyed me, as usual. And I sent a letter to Amelia to come visit since you take the whole year to come back home. I’m waiting for Mocha to come back. And mum hasn't arrived yet.’ 

Mr. Bluesky nodded. Ivan and Isabell continued playing together, more like fighting. But the thing that Isabell was most worried about was that world out there. There had been a mass breakout from Azkaban, with the most savage Death Eaters escaping, such as Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback. Voldemort had completely risen to power and was getting more powerful by the second. 

Will this world change?

Isabell felt a jolt of pain on her head. Ivan was pulling her hair. 

‘Get your dirty hands off my hair!’ Isabell scolded as she shoved away Ivan’s little arms. 

‘But your hair is so smooth and cool!’ Ivan protested as he tried to touch Isabell’s hair again. 

Isabell got up and backed away from Ivan, as though he were a four-legged insect ready to lunge on her. 

‘Just because my hair is “smooth and cool” doesn’t mean you have the right to touch it and try to pull it off my head!’ 

‘Daddy! Isabell’s annoying me!’ Ivan yelled.

Mr. Bluesky walked in, frowning.

‘Isabell, prepare the room upstairs for your friend. Ivan, this is Isabell’s hair, not yours, so please don’t touch it.’ 

Ivan moaned. Isabell smirked at Ivan, who looked like he was about to smack her right in the face. Isabell hurried upstairs and opened the spare room that they had. With her wand, Isabell brightened up the room. She made the silks hanging from the ceiling, which were blue, glimmer from the sun’s beams that were coming from the window. Isabell opened the window to let fresh air circulate. The ceiling contained white stars stuck to it. The mattress of the bed was already made. Isabell conjured a blanket, though it was very difficult to do so. She managed to do it and pushed her wand in her pyjama pocket. Isabell sat on a blue chair in the corner of the room, awaiting Mocha’s return.  

Amelia was making breakfast for her stepmother, Emily, in the Clearwater Mansion. Her clothes were dirt-stained from having planted flowers in the garden in front of the mansion just a few minutes ago. 

‘Finish it quickly! I’m hungry! But not too quickly so it doesn’t taste bad, like it always does!’ Emily yelled from the dining room. 

‘Alright!’ Amelia yelled back in an annoyed tone. 

‘Don’t you dare take that ungrateful tone with me!’

Amelia rolled her eyes. She continued whisking the eggs, humming a random tune, until she heard a terrible screech.

‘AMELIA! Emily shrieked.

Amelia groaned, then ran to the dining room, in which Emily was sitting on the chair that looked like a throne and using her wand to massage her back. 

‘That filthy owl came with a letter for you!’ Emily said, shoving the owl from perching on the chair she was sitting on. 

‘Mocha!’ Amelia said, ignoring what Emily had said.

Mocha flew to her arm and sat on it while she nipped Amelia’s fingers affectionately and held out her leg for her to take the letter. Amelia opened it and began reading. She recognised Isabell’s handwriting immediately. When she finished reading, she looked at Emily, who, as usual, looked furious.

‘Where’s my breakfast?’

Amelia growled then went to the kitchen- still holding the letter. She continued to make eggs for Emily and cooked them. As they were getting cooked, Amelia replied to the letter:

I’ll try to come, though I don’t think I will, with Emily around. I’ll try to sneak out. 

Amelia heard a sizzling sound and looked at the eggs, they were beginning to burn as black and brown burns appeared on them. 

‘No! No! No!’ she pleaded desperately.

She quickly removed the eggs off the fire and looked at her wand, which was lying on the counter table.

It won’t hurt if I use a little bit of magic… The ministry will think it’s Emily, anyway…

Amelia whispered a spell and the eggs weren’t burnt anymore, but looked like they had been scrambled just right. 

‘Mocha!’ Amelia chirped, clicking to Isabell’s brown owl.

Mocha came flying over to her. Amelia attached the letter to her leg. Mocha flew to a window, which Amelia quickly opened with her wand. 

‘Did I just see you use your wand?’ Emily’s voice said, appearing in the kitchen. 

‘No,’ Amelia replied without hesitation. 

‘Where are my eggs?’ 

Amelia pointed at a plate full of eggs on the kitchen counter. Emily’s face reddened, her fists clenching-

Here comes the scream bomb…

‘DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO NOT USE MAGIC ON MY BREAKFAST? ARE YOU TRYING TO POISON YOUR OWN MOTHER? THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS!’ 

‘A normal mother would’ve made breakfast for herself, you’re not even my real mother,’ said Amelia under her breath, but Emily heard her. 

‘GO TO YOUR ROOM THIS INSTANT!’ 

‘My pleasure,’ Amelia yelled back, storming off. 

Amelia sighed and rushed to her room. She saw Emily at the door. Emily shut the door, causing a loud bang. 

‘AND STAY IN THERE! I WILL LOCK THE DOOR!’  Emily’s voice called from outside. 

Amelia grinned. She wanted Emily to get mad on purpose. Because when Emily gets mad, she forgets. And Emily forgot to take Amelia’s wand from her. Amelia hurriedly wore her black cloak and went out to the balcony, which was thankfully open. Amelia looked down: it was a long jump. She frantically looked around and then spotted something. It was her broom. Without wasting more time, Amelia took her broom and went to the balcony again. Amelia courageously jumped off the balcony and rode her broom, trying not to scream. She was inches from the ground when she swooped up and started flying through the air. She was now flying straight towards the Bluesky Mansion, ready to meet her friend. 

She landed on the neat grass in front of the mansion. 

And as for Olivia, she was getting lectured by her aunt and uncle… as usual. 

‘WHY DIDN’T WE JUST THROW YOU IN AN ORPHANAGE THE SECOND WE SAW YOUR HORRID FACE?’ 

Olivia would hear that statement only too much. Hailey blew a raspberry and sat in between her mother and father, giving a terrible grin to Olivia, who returned it with a disgusted look. There was a knock at the door and Olivia went to open it. She opened the door to see Albert, smiling. He was sixteen, and more handsome than ever. 

‘Albert, what are you doing here?’

‘Letting you stay at my house instead of staying with them,’ Albert replied.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, my mum is away on holiday, so I’m alone and I thought you’d like to come over-’

‘WHO’S AT THE DOOR?’  her uncle’s voice bellowed, waddling to them like an overgrown penguin.

Olivia looked at Albert worriedly, who stepped into the house and faced Mr. Watson.

‘Who’s this boy, eh?’ Olivia’s uncle said, his grand belly leading him to Albert and Olivia. ‘You never told us that you were in a relationship.’

‘I’m not in a relationship...’

‘Then who is he?’

‘A friend.’

Mr. Watson looked at him suspiciously, scratching his belly, so that he truly represented a filthy gorilla. 

‘And what’re you doing here, filthy young lad?’

‘Inviting Olivia to my house-’

‘Oh, take that scumbag away from this house already.’

Albert arched his brows and looked at Olivia, who raised and lowered both shoulders. 

‘Take your things that make you uncommon.’

‘Her what-?’

‘The thing that she makes the thingy with.’

‘The what-?’ Albert said confusedly.

‘My wand,’ breathed Olivia in Albert’s ear.

‘I HEARD THAT!’ Mr. Watson suddenly bellowed. 

Olivia went upstairs and packed her things which she would take to Hogwarts. She neatly arranged quills and parchments, as well as a Ravenclaw banner that she had hung in her room. She packed some extra clothing in a separate section of her trunk, and finally put some cat food for her pet, Twilight, who sashayed in the room from the scent of the food. 

But how will I buy the new books?

Olivia decided not to worry about that for now and closed her trunk, then went out of her room. Albert insisted he should carry for her because he was stronger right when she got out. 

‘You really don’t need to-’

But Albert already took her trunk and carried it with both arms. Olivia followed him outside. She could hear the maniacal laughter of her cousin, Hailey.

‘FREAK IS GONE!’ Hailey’s voice came from inside. 

‘Do they really hate you that much?’ Albert asked.

Olivia shrugged. 

‘Probably too lazy to take care of another child. Did you see my uncle’s belly? Honestly.’

Albert burst out laughing, making Olivia arch her brows. She grinned as Albert’s laughing started to ease, mostly because he expected Olivia to laugh with him. 

‘Why didn’t Isabell or Amelia call you to come over?’

Olivia didn’t reply. She had thought of her friends every now and then. 

‘Maybe because they are too busy. Or maybe they don’t want to talk to me after last year. Or maybe-’

‘Maybe they just don’t consider you as their best friend.’

Olivia looked down. 

‘I mean, uh-’ Albert said, regretting what he had just said. 

‘It’s fine,’ Olivia mumbled. ‘Where’s your house anyway?’ 

‘It’s just ‘round the corner, that’s how I could walk on foot and didn’t need to use any magical means of transportation.’

Olivia followed Albert into what seemed to be a forest.

‘Are you sure this is the right-’

‘Oh, I’m certain.’

Olivia decided to follow Albert, knowing he wouldn’t lead her somewhere they weren’t supposed to be. 

That’s Albert you’re talking about. Of course he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me… It’s his house. He should know the way… Why am I paranoid all of a sudden? 

They finally reached a small cottage. Albert opened the door, which creaked slightly. The cottage was very simply constructed: there was a tiny kitchenette in one corner; there were three doors on the other side, one leading to a restroom and the other one to a bedroom. Olivia didn’t know where the third one led to.

‘Is there an extra room?’

‘No.’

‘Then where am I going to sleep?’

‘You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room.’

‘Are you sure…’ 

Albert nodded. He headed towards the kitchenette and got out two cups of Butterbeer.

‘Tooks these from Hogsmeade. I’m still surprised they are in good shape,’ he spoke. 

Olivia silently drank her butterbeer. She thought of what Albert had said about Amelia and Isabell.

‘So…’ Albert said, interrupting Olivia’s unpleasant thoughts.

‘Right. I wanted to ask, how are we supposed to get the school books?’

Albert didn’t reply; it seemed like he had also thought about it but had no suggestion.

‘I thought your vault had wizarding money.’ 

‘It’s not mine anymore,’ reminded Olivia sadly. ‘Now that everyone knows my parents are alive from five years ago.’

‘Then how do you get money?’

Olivia didn’t reply. Albert looked down helplessly. Olivia then slowly smiled. 

‘I always plan ahead.’

She got out from her trunk a sack that looked heavy. Olivia shook it and the sound of clinking metal was heard. 

‘How did you get them?’ Albert asked, a relieved look on his face.

‘Took them from the vault in my first year. I actually took three sacks, and here’s one of them,’ Olivia explained. 

Out of nowhere, two owls zoomed through an open window and landed in front of Olivia and Albert on the wooden table in front of the sofa they were sitting on. 

‘Could these be-’

But Olivia had already grabbed the letter attached to the brown owl in front of her. 

Olivia Dragonheart’s Ordinary Wizarding Level grades:

Defence Against the Dark Arts:  E                                         Potions: O 

Charms:  O                                                                                  Herbology: A

History of Magic:  O                                          

Care of Magical Creatures:  E             

Transfiguration: O                                                                      Astronomy:  E         

Divination: P                                                                             Arithmancy: O

Muggle Studies: O                                                                      Ancient Runes: E

‘Good job,’ Albert said, after they saw Olivia’s grades. 

‘But I got Acceptable in Herbology and Poor in Divination…’ 

‘It’s fine. If you want to work for the Ministry, just to say, you would get accepted because you got the required grades for all the other subjects! Well, maybe you can’t really work for anything related to plants, but there’s other jobs.’

Olivia nodded. She squinted at Albert’s paper and caught a glimpse of his grades: 

Albert Foxglove’s Ordinary Wizarding Level grades:

Defence Against the Dark Arts:  O                                         Potions: O

Charms:  A                                                                                  Herbology: E

History of Magic:  E                                                    

Care of Magical Creatures:  E              

Transfiguration: O                                                                      Astronomy:  P         

Divination: A                                                                               Arithmancy: A

Muggle Studies: O                                                                      Ancient Runes: O

Olivia congratulated Albert, who smiled at her in return. 

‘Not sure if translating gibberish is really considered a job,’ Albert said. 

Olivia laughed. It was getting dark and she felt her eyelids getting heavy. Albert gestured to her to enter the room, but Olivia had already fallen asleep. Albert decided to let her sleep on the couch. 

But she couldn’t sleep on the couch…

Albert sighed and carried Olivia in his arms. Albert tried his best not to stumble as he approached the room. He opened the door and gingerly placed her on the bed. He covered her with the blanket. 

‘G’night, Olivia.’