Chapter One

Swoosh went the Quaffle as it spun straight through the goal post hoop. After going through the hoop it fell and flumped, lifeless, onto the cool grass below.

"Yes! I am totally going to whip your ass in Quidditch this year," said Maggie, tilting her broom toward the ground so she landed swiftly on the grass with a tiny thump.

"That is, if you make it on the team…" said her friend, Ebony, also coming down to the ground with a sound a little louder than a thump.

It was a cool, crisp day on the outskirts of London, at least for summer. Normally it would be hot, but the two girls had taken advantage of the nice weather and decided to go out to their makeshift Quidditch field out in the meadow near the tiny wizarding village they lived in. They had made the six hoops out of spare hool-a-hoops they found in a Muggle dumpster on one of their occasional visits to London.

"Who says I won't make it on the team this year?" said Maggie indignantly, picking up the dropped Quaffle. She never liked it when other people tried to discourage her from doing something she knew so well that she could do. She had tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team every chance she got. She had claimed she almost made it on, but never quite seemed to get close. She said the competition was too tough, which might be true considering Harry Potter was in her house and played Seeker. He was a tall, skinny, green-eyed fifth year, the first Quidditch player in a century to join the team as a first year.

"Well, the chances aren't all that high. You know what I mean?" replied Ebony truthfully as they began to trudge through the high grass toward home. "Besides, the only opening they're going to have is a Keeper since Wood is gone, and you've never played that position before."

Maggie scowled and didn't reply. Ebony always knew everything. Ebony always said it right. But Maggie didn't want to face the facts.

"I'll race you!" Maggie smirked and took off running through the grass. She had to get her mind off Quidditch for a little while.

"Wait stop! You know I can't run!" Ebony shouted as she started to sprint after Maggie.

She was no match for Maggie when it came to running. Maggie was born strong, especially in her legs. She was a tall, slender girl with wild brown hair she always kept tied up. She was a girl of adventure, of bravery. She liked moving places and could hardly be kept still. That is why she liked Quidditch so much. She hated it when she had to stay trapped in a classroom. She loved the feel of the wind in her face, of the spectacular freedoms flying in the air brought to you.

"Stop! Stop! I'm getting out of breath!" Ebony panted, stopping to clutch her side in agony.

Maggie paused and turned around, smiling maliciously. She was just going to turn back around when her foot caught on a stump and she went crashing to the ground. She didn't get back up.

"Maggie! Are you all right?" Ebony shrieked and, despite her tiredness, she dashed over to where Maggie had fallen. When she reached her, she found her laying quite still, her eyes closed. "Maggie? Come on." She bent down and nudged her shoulder. "Get up." Maggie didn't move. She didn't even flinch. "That wasn't even a very big fall. Come on, this isn't funny." When Maggie still didn't twitch, Ebony started to panic. "Come on! Don't do this to me!" She pushed her harder and harder so her head bobbled around and around on the dirty ground.

Ebony stood up quickly, in a panic. She looked around the vacant field for somebody. All she saw was tall, blowing grass and a few houses off way in the distance. "Somebody! Help!" she shouted loud so somebody might hear. All she heard in reply was the whistling of the wind.

But suddenly, she felt something cold grip her ankles. Before she could look down to see what it was, the cold force had yanked her back and she flopped backward with the tall grass as a cushion.

Maggie was laughing. "I totally had you there!" She shot up from the ground and took off again down the field.

"I'm going to get you! How dare you do that to me!" Ebony shrieked and chased her through the blowing grass. She had completely forgotten about her tiredness. She only wanted revenge.

The two girls ran and ran all the way toward the village. The sun was just setting and the air around them was orange and fresh, buzzing with evening life. And they had forgotten all their troubles. They were just two little girls again, playing under the sun. They were no longer the big fifteen year olds they really were, with all their worries and uncertainties. They were happy again.

As they neared the end of the field, right where the tall grass ended and the mowed lawns began, they flopped down together and panted and laughed. It was a while before they finally came back to their senses.

"Too bad we have to go back to school tomorrow," said Ebony, her smile suddenly fading.

Maggie bent a tall strand of grass to the shape of a Quidditch post and smiled wider. "Don't think about school. Think about Quidditch season and the big victory Gryffindor has in store for itself." She sighed deeply and Ebony threw a tiny stone through the loop.

"Yeah, I suppose that's a good way to think of it—"

"Margaret!" It was a piercing cry. It came all the way from the window of the house just facing the field, Maggie's home.

"Oh great," Maggie groaned, flinging the tall grass up. "Mother."

Maggie pulled herself to her feet regretfully, so did Ebony.

"I guess this will end our last practice session at home. Want to go to the station together in the morning?" Maggie asked.

"I'm not sure. My mum and I were going to take the Muggle car this time. Do you want to go with us?"

"Maybe. My mother doesn't especially like me associating with Muggle 'items', or Muggles. She says London is a dodgy place."

"Oh well then…send me Chester telling me what you're going to do." Chester was Maggie's tiny little screech owl. He was a quick messenger.

"Margaret! Get in here!" came her mother's voice, louder this time.

"See you in the morning, Ebony." They hugged a sisterly hug and separated.

"Coming Mother!" Maggie took off through her back yard and threw the Quaffle and old Cleansweep Seven onto the ground near the side of the house. She entered through the screen door where her mother stood, hands on hips.

"I thought I told you to be home by six!" said her mother furiously. She was a skinny woman, with long straight blond hair. She would look young if her face wasn't always contorted into such a mad and angry glare all the time. Maybe it wasn't all the time like that, but Maggie only got to see it when it was. Her mother hated her.

She felt the hate floating through the air like smog between her mother and herself. It was a thick fog that could not be blown away or shown through even with the brightest of lights. "And what time is it now?" said Maggie, voice dripping with dislike.

"Eight thirty!" shrieked her mother, pointing at the old wizarding clock accusingly. "Your father and I were getting worried—"

"Daddy's home!" Maggie cried, her face suddenly alighting with joy.

"—and you missed dinner!"

Maggie didn't even listen to the rest she had to say. She took off, nudging her mother out of her way and dashing to the living room where her father was sitting at his desk, bent over a mountain of papers.

"Daddy! You're finally home!" She rushed over and wrapped her bony arms around her father. He was still wearing his Ministry robes. They were caked with dirt and ripped in numerous places.

"Maggie…" Her father turned around to return her hug. "I missed you so much."

They embraced, saying nothing for quite a long while. Maggie took in the smell of her father, of his dirty robes and coffee stench.

Finally, they pulled away and Maggie looked deep into her father's face. His eyes were tired. They had dark circles under them. He looked tired and hungry and weak and exhausted. Maggie frowned. It was not like him to look so dispirited.

"What's wrong?" Maggie said, deeply concerned.

Her father turned away to look at the map he had in front of him. "Oh nothing. Just reading makes me tired, that's all."

"Walter! You have to do something about that child! She has been out all day and she didn't get home until two and half hours after I told her to." Her mother walked in. Her face was withering and twisting in that evil way it did when she was mad.

Walter sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. "Maggie…" he began slowly. "You know your mother wants you inside by—"

"It's not my fault!" Maggie cried out indignantly. "We didn't have a watch!"

"And whose fault was it that you didn't have a watch?" Walter said cleverly, kindness flooding his weary face.

"I—I don't know…" Maggie almost smiled, but then remembered she was trying to defend herself. "You don't understand! Ebony and I are practicing for Quidditch season! It's a big thing at Hogwarts, you know? If I don't make it on the team this year I may never make it on!"

"Don't say that, sweetheart. You'll still have two more years after this one."

Maggie shook her head and turned away from her father furiously. "You don't understand. No one understands me!" She could feel the tears coming. Now even her father didn't think she could make it this year. It felt like the whole world was just beating her down. "Good night!" She stormed away past her mother, trying not to let anyone see her face, which was turning redder with each passing moment.

"Wait! Maggie! Don't leave like this!" she heard her father's exhausted voice call out. "You must have misunderstood me!"

"Your father says get back here young lady!" came her mother's voice, which was louder and screech-like.

"No!" And she dashed up the stairs. At the top she paused to listen.

"I'll be glad when she goes off to school. It's too hard to deal with her." That was definitely her mother's voice. She listened for her father's reply. Nothing came. He wasn't even going to defend her!

"I heard that!" Maggie shouted from up the stairs. "I know you hate me Mother! You don't have to shout it to the whole world! And I hate you too!" She could no longer stop the words from coming out of her mouth. It felt like the whole world was just toppling down again.

Sobbing, she dashed down the hall to her lonely room at the end of the hall. Halfway there she ran into her yipping younger sister, Emily.

"What happened this time?" she said with a tormenting grin, blocking her way.

"Move, twit!" Maggie shoved her out of the way with such force she banged against the wall with a loud thud.

"Ouch!" she cried. "Mummy!" She ran away down the stairs, crying.

Maggie was finally satisfied. Huffing, she stomped into her room and slammed the door. A Quidditch picture she had hanging on the wall nearby swung dangerously on its hinges. Swiftly, she made her way across the room and brought up the blinds with a loud snap. Orangish pink sunlight showed through to every corner of her room it could reach. She looked out at the field that her window faced. She often looked that way when she had to think.

She took a deep breath. When she finally had the chance to analyze the situation, she couldn't really figure out why she was so mad at her father. He had only said one little thing. One little thing to set her off like a firecracker. It was her mother's constant nagging, her feelings of loneliness, stresses of school coming, of possible Quidditch try-outs, of summer coming to an end. All the things were coming so fast, she had hardly any chance to sit and relish what joys and relaxations she had left. Today was the end of long afternoons in the field with Ebony, of homework-less evenings, of seeing her father even for one night.

Tomorrow she was leaving for Hogwarts and wouldn't be returning home for at least three months, and that was only for Christmas. Her father might not even be home then either. She wouldn't mind being away from her mother for a long time, but her father she rarely got to see. He worked for the Ministry as an Auror, a very respected Auror at that. He was called on missions right and left. Rarely ever did he stay at home for more than two nights. Maggie respected his job and thought him brave for it, but really she'd have much liked it if he could have just been a Ministry official working in a tiny cubicle like Ebony's father did. Ebony got to see her father every night.

There was a knocking at the door that startled her from her thoughts. "What is it?" she yelled, turning away from the window to look at her door. The doorknob turned and the door squeaked open.

"It's your father. I just want to talk to you." His head appeared timidly through the door. He was a somewhat tall man of confident posture and strength. He had brown hair that always seemed out of place and a whiskery face that never got smooth. When Maggie was a little girl she liked to touch his chin and rub her little fingers across it. She was a girl who was always fascinated about everything.

Maggie sighed and replied, "Fine. Come in." She felt like apologizing right that instant. The outburst had been completely unprecedented. But her pride held her back. "What do you want?" she said forcefully, crossing her arms as he made his way in.

"I just want to say sorry for whatever I said that made you upset." Despite the tough man being an Auror made him, he was very timid and passive.

"That's great." She swung around to face the window again. She longed to hug him, but it wasn't the right moment. She didn't feel like letting anyone off that quickly.

"Maggie, can't you just be nicer to your father." She hated it when he talked about himself in third person. "I know you don't get to see me very often, but now here I am and you push me away."

Maggie didn't reply. She felt a lump forming in her throat like a giant rock.

"Fine. You don't want to say anything. Perhaps you'll be better in the morning." He sighed and turned around to walk out.

Maggie waited a few moments before finally turning around. "Wait! Dad!"

There was no reply. He had already left.

Angrily, she stormed to her desk and picked up her wand furiously. She waved it in the air and thought about a dangerous spell she could do to smash something. But just as the words were about to come out of her mouth she remembered that no magic from underage wizards was allowed outside of school. She cursed and threw the useless wand on her carpeted floor, then fell on her bed and threw her face in her pillow, frustrated and alone.