My name is Bev (NOT Beverly) Mullins. I died.

Any responsible, authoritative figure will tell my story as a cautionary tale. All that my life was has been reduced to mistakes never to be repeated. Well I'm sure they didn't expect me to return so soon - and now that I have, I'm here to set the record straight.

Let's be clear about one thing; my life was full of lessons that all Hogwarts students would benefit from learning. Simple traits that define success, no matter what kind of person you are. Just because I used these traits in a "less than sensible" manner doesn't mean that they shouldn't be taught. So now I shall pass on all of the valuable lessons one can glean from my life, and then finally get to haunting the halls of Hogwarts, my final home before my untimely death.

Lesson number one: Compromise.

1920 New York City, The United States of America

Beverly "Bev" Mullins was the perfect picture of a young lady, her legs crossed daintily as she sat upon a bench near the sea shore. Waves lapped against the shore under the beating summer sun as city folk lounged about, happy for an escape from the bustle of the city nearby. Bev's hands moved from their position in her lap to block the rays shining down. She regretted having brought such a flimsy hat with her that day. Her choice in other attire could have been better planned as well. A simple, silk gown pale blue was accompanied by white gloves and her finest pearls.

Yes, it may not have been ideal for a day at the beach, but Bev had not been informed of such destinations. She had expected to remain at the manner the whole day. Now she was surrounded by poor and no-majs. It was a nightmare-come-true.

Despite her distaste for the environment, Bev remained the perfect lady. The perfect lady who happened to have profanities streaming out of her mouth like a river.

"I swear to fucking god, you cannot make me do this! What kind of assholes send away their only second daughter to the hell-hole called England? Goddamn England!" Her voice was crass, a contrast to that of the response.

"Sweetheart, you know we wouldn't if we had a choice," Millicent, Bev's mother, comforted.

Millicent, a tall woman with blonde curls cut in a short bob, was not prepared to deal with her daughter's transfer into adolescence. Her little girl refused to wear matching dresses or to be the perfect lady she had been her whole childhood. Ever since she had been informed of here father's business, Bev refused to listen to much of her parents' advice - choosing to give it instead. Her father was overjoyed at such enthusiasm, though Millicent preferred to change the world behind a former facade.

Millicent chose to wear a pink dress and an ever constant smile. A beautiful woman of high-class, her looks defined the trends in tabloids. On rare occasions she even modeled, though her time was often consumed using her innocent appearance to deceive potential business partners. Her first daughter had followed suit, the perfect lady to society, and the shark in work. Bev's more direct approach was not something Millicent was prepared to manage.

"Your father's line of work is just... in jeopardy what with the new law that's been passed."

"Jeopardy? What are you talking about? He's a crime boss! If anyone could be successful during this "prohibition" bullshit, it's him." Bev turned to face her father, an immediate change in tone detected, along with the best puppy eyes she could possibly muster. "Right, Daddy?"

Until then, the man had been quite happy letting his wife deal with the stubborn eleven year-old.

A broad man with slicked back dark hair and a cigarette always in his mouth were Raymond's only defining traits. More often than not, he could easily disappear into the crowd. His face plain and belly large, it was a wonder to many how he had ever ended up with a woman like Millicent. While her bright blue eyes constantly flitted to and fro in social events, Raymond preferred to keep his grey eyes focused uno his boots, his hair the only feature often viewed by those attempting to strike up a conversation at the many parties he was obligated to attend.

When his daughter spoke to him, he was unprepared. Much like his daughter, his first reaction was to let out a string of profanities before processing the statement. Upon doing so, he began responding with the pre-prepared statements his wife had given him. "Honey, your mother is right. It's going to be unsafe here until we figure this out. Plus, it is time your education began. Your uncle works there, so..."

"Well, why is it only me? Why can Dorothy stay here?" Bev's toned had not faltered since the beginning of her outburst. "Let me guess, you want me to follow suit and become the perfect little lady like her?"

"No, no darling. I love you, no matter how... different your approach to problem-solving may be. Dorothy can stay because she has finished her schooling and can use magic. Moreover, this school will be better for you than Ilvermorny ever could be."

"How the hell could you think that? Ilvermorny is the best!"

"Darling, lower your voice..." Millicent's voice was becoming strained, her head craning to watch for any passerby who might recognize the family. "This school allows no-maj-borns."

"And?"

"Well, given your past attitude, we assumed that-"

"That what? Do I hate no-majs - yes! Do I hate poverty - yes! But wizards are wizards, I care about heritage about as much as I care about history in general. Can't I just go to Ilvermorny? Or even homeschooling?"

Raymond took this chance to step up and prove his "authority". Puffing up his chest, he began commanding his daughter in a booming voice, his face turning more red with every word, "Everything has already been arranged. Stop disobeying me, young lady! I am the head of this house, and you are to respect that! You are going to this school, and that is final! Do you understand?"

A long pause ensued, save for the squabbling birds. Bev envied their ignorance of this conversation.

"...if I get on the boat, will he stop acting like an angry penguin?"

"I certainly hope so."

"Fine. I'll get on, but I swear that I'll be the best goddamn student they've ever had! I'll bet $100 on it!"

"Fine. Deal - If you are expelled any time in the first year, you will remain overseas for the next seven years. I not, I will give you $100 and allow you to come home and go to Ilvermorny." The pair shook hands, no longer mother and daughter, but instead business. "Now go before your father explodes in the hopes of turning into a tomato."

And there the first lesson was shown. Compromise (in the form of gambling).

With that lesson taught, Bev lifted herself from the bench she sat upon, grabbed her suitcase, and began a long walk to the boat off of a short pier.