Prologue

I've always been perfect. I get great grades, have plenty of friends, and a family that loves and supports me. My work is always handed in on time. The teachers like me, but my peers do, too. I horseback-ride after school at a big fancy stable with big fancy horses and fancy equipment and expensive instructors. To an outsider, my life seems perfect. But it's all fake.

My mom and dad fight all the time, and they think I don't know. They think I'm some naive child who believes everything they say. If they tell me we're a big, happy family, we are. If they say I'm going to get really good grades, I have to. They don't care if I have to stay up half the night to study. My thoughts don't matter; important decisions are always made by the adults.

I hate what they do to me! They're making me be someone I'm not. Well, my mom is. My dad doesn't care either way. All he cares about is his job, how he looks at his job, how much he earns at his job. Not Mom or me. Why do I have to get perfect grades? Why do I have to act like a citizen of the upper society when I just want to fool around and get average grades? Why am I expected to become a dentist like my parents?

Even as I ask myself there questions, I already know the answer. It all started with my sister Hermione.

Chapter One

My sister Hermione has always been the studious type. Her favorite place in the whole world is the library, and as long as she has her books, she's not going to worry about her family at all. I was just her little sister, but because of her, because of her knowledge and studious abilities, the teachers expected more from me than any other student. I begged my parents to let me switch schools, of course, but they didn't listen. They never have, and I don't think they ever will.

Everyone has heard of Hermione, right? Before she's thirty she'll have invented something super special and super cool and she'll be known everywhere! She could be famous, get degrees in medicine and anything else that struck her fancy or go to law school. She could follow in our parents footsteps and become a dentist, but somehow I knew she wouldn't. Actually, nobody knows her. Not in this world, my world, the real world. And that's the only world that counts, the only one that makes any sense at all.

Hermione was eleven when it happened, and the summer holidays had started a week earlier. It was the point when everything changed, and if I had magic, I'd have changed it. Of course, if I had magic I'd be a part of it as well, and if it didn't exist there'd be no such situation. So maybe I ought to wish for that instead.

But I wouldn't. My big sister was happy in her new world, and I wasn't one to deny her happiness.

June 24. Also known as the day a random woman dropped in on our porch and performed magic tricks. It was the best day of Hermione's life. She learned that she had magical powers and could go to a special magic school and learn to use them. Of course she accepted! I'd already seen the glint in her eye that meant she'd found a new project: "Imagine all the knowledge the magical world might hold! I could have cures for the most terrible illnesses and libraries full of information." Hermione would never be able to resist.

My parents went with her to some place called Diagon Alley. I didn't go with them. I had a soccer game that day, one my parents had promised to watch. It ended up being my last chance to play in an official soccer game, but nobody knew at the time. Maybe if my parents had known, they'd have chosen differently. But they didn't, and now that Hermione needed them, they couldn't go. They'd taken time of work for me, but somehow it ended with Hermione anyway.

"You understand, don't you sweetie?" my mom had asked. Even though her words were pleasant, there was no denying the steel in her voice. I remember her words perfectly, for they chilled me to the bone, and I stayed home for ages just repeating them to myself again and again and again. They went with Hermione for a day of fun, like I knew they would, while I stayed at home, drowning in self-pity. I couldn't make myself go to the soccer game that day, and I still regret it.

When Hermione left for Hogwarts – Who on earth names a school that! – I knew there would be changes.

And I was right.

I couldn't be the sporty girl I was anymore. No more could I pay soccer and volleyball. I wasn't allowed to do track. They let me continue horseback-riding, but no plus there, because I wanted to quit. Apparently, it was the only "sophisticated" sport. No longer were average grades good enough; no, they said I had to do as well as Hermione! When she "moved" I was the new lady of the household and I had to act like it.

Of course I didn't want to, but I couldn't not do it. At first I resisted, tried to stop them, but no such luck. They grounded me, and their punishments were always school related. Hermione would have loved it.

So here I am, five years later. I'm eleven years old now, and Hermione is in her fifth year at Hogwarts. She left a month ago. I've settled into the usual routine, school, studying, homework, more studying, and riding. My best friend doesn't understand why I ride and I find I agree with her. It's not really that fun, just sitting on a horse and forcing it to obey you, but it's the only "sport" I'm allowed to do. My parents think I'm at the stable three times a week, but in reality I'm only there twice. At least I have one free day.

It's a small rebellion, I know, but I can't afford a bigger one. They might catch me, and then I wouldn't have even that small freedom. I can't do any team sports, because my parents might drive past, or notice that I go to games. So I do karate. It's surprisingly fun, and I'm learning quickly. In a couple more years I'll be a black belt, which is rather good for a girl. Soon I might –

"Kim! Are you listening to me?" That's my best friend, Elizabeth. I call her Liz, but she's usually known as Lizzie. "I've been talking to you for ten minutes. Have you heard anything?"

"Of course," I say softly, "why would I not have?" I know I haven't been listening, but I did hear something she said: her last question.

"Because you always listen to everything I say," Liz answers sarcastically. "So, you wanna do something today?" She sounds hopeful, and I hate to disappoint her –

"Sorry, can't," – but I have to. "It's the beginning of the school year and I have to study really hard to make sure I'm way ahead. It's really tiring and uses up all my free time. I really with I didn't have to, though."

"Nah, it's ok. I should be used to it by now." The way Liz says it makes me not believe her at all.

You know what I said earlier, about being perfect and popular? That's what I am in my mom's eyes. It's not really true at all. Liz is my only friend, and though she could fit in easily with the popular crowd, she sticks by me. I'm really grateful, because it's certainly not making her more popular.

I bet you don't care much about me either. You probably just want to know about Hermione. Nobody in my world knows who I am, but Hermione is rather popular in hers, but only because she's friends with a celebrity. Obviously, if you stopped by you know all about her, but you want to know more. Why else would you listen to me?

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Hermione isn't a great sister. She spends all her time studying, talking to our parents, or writing letters to her friends at school. She has no friends in the neighborhood, including me. I don't think she knows I exist.

I know more than I should, though. Way more. And I've gotten good at eavesdropping. And reading other's mail. What else is there to do in this lonely house? It's not like my parents let me out much; they're too scared I'll do something that doesn't suit their view of me, like chew gum or play tag. They just want me to stay home, so I do what I can.

I read newspapers, letters, anything I can get my hands on. I eavesdrop on everyone in the house. I know the best hiding places, and I know their habits. I make it my business to know everything that happens here. What else could I do? Study?