—CHAPTER ONE—

The Girl Who Believed

Night covered the small suburb of Tonsley with a darkness that was barely darkness at all. It was the middle of another stifling Australian summer, and the Moon shone so brightly that it almost cast shadows of its own. To the people of this small, quiet suburb, however, it was the night they knew, and it brought with it very welcome relief from the powerful heat of the day. For all but one of the inhabitants of the small Tonsley street known as The Crescent, tonight was a night of sweaty bed sheets and restless slumber, but there was one room on this street which was awake. The smallest of lights could be seen through the upper left window of Number Seven, Falls Crescent, Tonsley, and this light drove out all darkness for one young girl. Leila Dumonte was oblivious to the street around her, and the neighbours living within it; she was, as far as she was concerned, not a part of the world around her at all. Leila was propped under her thin summer sheets, with her tiny pen light illuminating her door directly into the world she longed to escape into from her own: the world of Harry Potter.

For the umpteenth time, Leila was reading about Harry, Ron and Hermione's exploits and efforts to defeat the darkest Wizard of the age, Lord Voldemort. Now coming to the final pages of the seventh epic instalment, The Deathly Hallows, tears filled her eyes..
"'You'll stay with me?'
'Until the very end,'…"
For Leila, she wasn't reading this as words on a page, ink on paper; she was living it, and feeling it. She didn't just read Rowling's words; she was there with Harry for every moment. So it was always a rather large surprise that when she finally put the book down after a night's immersion, to see that it was heading more towards early morning than late night. Tonight was no exception, as Leila marked her place with a small dog-ear on the top corner of the first page of the final chapter, wanting to save this for tomorrow, in an effort to make the experience last that little bit longer, and noticed that her clock read 3:23am. While she had been away in the wizarding world, Leila had been eleven years old for over three hours in the real world, and she hadn't noticed! But even her birthday wasn't enough to make coming back to reality any less disappointing; in fact, this particular birthday was set to be a disappointment in itself.

Leila had spent much of her childhood dreaming of her eleventh birthday, believing that it would be the day her Hogwarts Acceptance Letter would arrive. For years she had held such anticipation for this day, that on her tenth birthday, exactly a year ago, she had tried to pretend it was her eleventh, just so that she could receive the letter early. Leila had done everything she could think of to try and convince her friends, and even her family, that she had been turning eleven. She had even tried to forge her own new birth certificate, which had actually born a startling resemblance to the original. This enthusiasm for creativity the arts had long been a point of difference between Leila and her elder twin brother and sister, Grace and Nicholas, who had no interest in stories, and almost no imagination. The twins, fourteen years old, attended one of the most prestigious private boarding schools in the country: Chifley Grammar. They had always been very smart, but very boring, and often tormented Leila with questions from Maths or Physics textbooks. Their favourite form of humiliation for their younger sister, however, was to hide her books.

Thanks to her siblings' complete lack of creativity, Leila always managed to seek out the places Grace and Nicholas had hidden her belongings. Usually hidden amongst their own books, Leila's own were so obviously out of place that they were no harder to find than if they had been lying on the open floor. This torture was so incessant, however, that it began to take a harsh toll on Leila, wearing away at her belief that she was really a witch, stuck in the muggle world.

As she put down her copy of The Deathly Hallows, reality collapsed around Leila. Today was the day she had been dreading, rather than looking forward to. Today would be the worst day of her life. Leila was so sure that there would be no owl sitting on her letter box, no strange bespectacled cat sitting on her front fence, and certainly no wax-sealed parchment letter from a distant wizarding school. Today would bring her dreams to a horrific end, because if she didn't receive her letter today, she never would, and that was a very sad thought indeed.

"No." Leila said, mostly to herself.
"It will come. It'll be here, it will."

With these final, defiant statements, a small mutter of "Nox," as she clicked off her penlight, and a long sigh, Leila rolled over to find a cooler spot on her bed, and let her dreams of being a real Witch take her away.

As dawn rolled in, the early light brought the usual Australian heat with it, and the family that lived at Number Seven on The Crescent were preparing for another sweltering summer day, the youngest of the family was just meandering out of a lazy dream. Slowly, Leila climbed out of her single bed, habitually went to her tall mirror, which was covered in pictures of her best friends, and, without actually taking any notice, checked her hair. Still wearing a messy head of sandy blonde hair, and the undeniable look of exhaustion, she floated downstairs in the direction of the kitchen, from which the smell of bacon was pouring.

As Leila trundled into the kitchen, her father, a tall man with thinning black hair and wire-rimmed glasses, let out a booming "Happy Birthday!" and pulled her into an affectionate hug. Grace and Nicholas' birthday wishes, however, did not share their father's enthusiasm, and were more of a monotonous grunt than anything. "Sebastian, is that breakfast ready yet?" said the twins to their father, in unison. "Whatever happened to calling me 'Dad', huh?" he replied jokingly, tossing a pan of scrambled eggs on a large plate, and placing it next to the already extensive spread of delicious-smelling food. Leila's father had long accepted his eldest children's decision to address him by name, but it had bothered him for some time initially.

The twins' attempt at a retort to their father was cut short as a blur of floral material swept into the room and smothered Leila with kisses. It was their nanny, Clara, a short, plump woman with a mess of curly, greying hair.
"Leila you beautiful thing, Happy, happy birthday! " squeaked Clara excitedly, showering Leila in yet more kisses. Clara had always been very affectionate towards Leila; she had been the family's nanny ever since the death of Leila's mother, Sarah Dumonte, when Leila was four years old. Seeing Clara always put a smile on Leila's face, and today, being given even more love than usual by her, Leila couldn't help but feel very happy indeed. All thoughts of last night, and her fear of not receiving her letter, were quickly gone from her mind, as the family ate breakfast with a pleasant, cheery air filling the room.

As Leila tucked into her bacon, which was nestled atop a mountain of scrambled eggs, her father left the room with a sudden "Oh!", only to return moments later with a very large box, wrapped in pink and silver-striped paper. The chuffed look on her father's face was enough to tell Leila that he thought he had done particularly well with this present. So Leila got up quickly, rushed over and gave him the biggest hug, and a kiss on his cheek, as she took the gift from him and laid it on the floor. Sitting down next to it, Leila was barely taller than the box, which was easily her biggest present ever. So, unable to wait any longer, Leila tore into the wrapping, sending shreds of it flying in every direction, and covering the floor with the shiny paper.
"What?!" exclaimed Grace, jumping out from her chair.
"Why does she get such a big present?" added Nicholas.
But as Leila finished tearing the wrapping away, her siblings started laughing hysterically. It was a travelling bag. A plain, grey bag with firms walls, big enough to fit Leila's entire life inside, she thought. This certainly was what she had been expecting, although she hadn't really been expecting much; her father's usual effort at presents never extended much beyond socks and underwear.

"What do you think? Do you like it?" Leila's father asked tentatively.
"Uh, yeah, Dad, it's uh, great. It's great." Leila answered, trying to seem genuinely pleased.
But Sebastian could sense his daughter's disappointment. "It was actually Clara's idea to get you that," he said. "She said it would be a very appropriate present for your eleventh birthday. Didn't you, Clara? She's been saying so for years, actually."
"Why yes, very appropriate indeed." Clara replied, wearing a cheeky grin.
What did she mean, 'very appropriate'? How on earth could a giant bag be a good present for an eleven year old girl?

Before Leila had much chance to dwell on this thought, however, she felt a hard object hit the back of her head. Without even looking, she had known exactly what it was: it was her 'present' from the twins. Every year for as long as she could remember, Grace and Nicholas had gotten her terrible presents, and they thought it was hilarious. Last year they had wrapped up a rotten egg, and the year before that it had just been a rock. As Leila turned around, she saw her 'gift' lying on the floor beside her chair; it was a piece of coal, and just looked like a very black rock. Leila moved her hand to touch the part of her head that the coal had struck, and as she pulled her fingers away, they were tinged with black.

"Don't be so awful, you two!" said Clara to Grace and Nicholas, with a scowl. But they were gone, out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their rooms before she could say anything else.
"Argh! The nerve of those two!" Clara said, more out of frustration than anything. Clara had never been able to get through to the twins in the same way she had with Leila; they had been eleven when she had come into the Dumonte household, and had seemed to disagree with her being there.

Leila could see that Clara was affected by then twins, so she decided to change the subject.
"So why the travel bag, Clara?" she asked, curiously.
Clara seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then said "Oh, I just think it will come in handy. But enough of that, I think it's about time I gave you my present!"
At these words, Leila's mood lifted immensely; Clara's presents were always the best. Her father never really knew what to get her, and the twins were always rotten, but Clara had never yet failed to get Leila an amazing gift. Last year, in fact, Leila had received from Clara her most prized possession: a wand. It was made from Fir, 11 ¾ inches, with a unicorn tail core, and reasonably pliant. She knew it wasn't a real wand, and couldn't do magic, but that hadn't deterred Leila at all. She loved that gift more than anything else she owned.

It was Clara's affinity for perfect gifts that made Leila giddy with excitement. She couldn't wait to see what Clara had gotten her this year; it was guaranteed to be amazing. While Leila was thinking this, Clara had bent down underneath the table, and when she came back up, she was holding a small box, wrapped in a very simple black paper. The box was about half the size of a shoebox, and was a cube. Leila looked from the box in Clara's hands, up into her big brown eyes, and confident smile. She was obviously quite proud of this gift, and this made Leila feel even more anticipation for opening it.

Clara passed the small box across the table, to Leila, who took it with trembling hands. Very carefully, Leila, held the box just above her lap, and began to unfold the perfect wrapping. As the black paper came away, a dark wood was revealed, and as Leila finished removing the paper, what was left took her breath away. It was a small yet beautiful wooden chest, with bronze hinges, and a simple latch on the front. However, it was none of these features that Leila had first noticed; her eyes had been drawn instantly to what was carved into the top of the chest: The Hogwarts School Crest.

Nervously, Leila glanced at Clara, who simply nodded towards the chest.
"Open it," she said.
So Leila unhooked the latch, and slowly raised the lid, which was remarkably light, even for such a small object. What was inside made Leila's heart skip a beat; it was the most beautiful thing she had seen in her whole life. A small round object, no larger than a golf ball, with the most intricate markings dancing across it, seeming to actually move across its face. It shined superbly, catching the light of the room.

Leila lifted the small ball out of the chest, and as she did so, two wings spread out from within it. They were very much like the wings of an insect, thin and translucent, and they fluttered slowly up and down. It was a snitch! The most valuable ball in the wizard game of Quidditch. Quidditch was the most popular game in the wizarding world, and the end the game, one player, called the Seeker, had to catch the snitch, also earning his or her team one hundred and fifty points in doing so.

There was something very different about this particular snitch, though. This one was a deep, scarlet red, when snitches were usually golden. Leila had never heard of a red snitch before, but this one was tremendous. Leila turned, awestruck, to her nanny, and tried to find words to thank her. But Clara spoke for her.
"It's a scarlet snitch, and they are very rare." Clara said softly. "Open your palm."
Leila did as she was asked, and suddenly, the scarlet snitch rose about three inches into the air, still fluttering its wings slowly, and hovered just above her hand.
"It can't be.. it's not, you know, real... is it?" Leila stammered.
Clara simply smiled.

It was the best gift Leila could have ever hoped for.