Chapter 1

One Way Shoe to England

My mom and I continued our hike up the hill. A mile away from Salem; a mile away from my second home, my school. Going in the middle of the night to Gallows' Hill was really unnerving. Nineteen people killed where I was walking. Who knew if they were still there, and I was destroying their burial grounds?

Just think, only five minutes until I'm gone.

Five minutes.

No more going to the Salem Witches' Institute. No more Boston. No more Danvers.

No. Instead, I'll be going to a brand new school. One that is not so select on students. Larry did say that would be good for me. But, all I was concerned about was how much it would be raining. England rains a ton.

That's why, all I brought with me was a cloak. My trunks were already in England.

Who would have thought I'd be going back to the gloomy, omnipresent town that my mom escaped with me from when I was only a few months old. It was the same town that I had spent a month every summer until I was fourteen. I finally put my foot down then. The past two summers, my dad, Larry, vacationed with me in New York instead.

It was to England that I now exiled myself--an action that I took with great horror. I hated England.

"Cara," my mom said to me, as we reached the tree, "you don't have to do this." Mom pouted a little. How could I seriously leave my loving, harebrained mother to fend for herself? Okay, she has Nick now, so the bills should get paid; there would be food in the refrigerator, usually; gas in her car, except when she hits zero, two miles from the gas station; and someone to call when she gets lost; but still…

"I want to go," I lied. I was a terrible liar, but I'd been saying the same lie so many times, I even believed it.

"Tell Larry I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon," she said. "You can come home whenever you want--I'll come right back as soon as you need me."

But, I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.

"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged me tightly for a minute, when the smelly old shoe started to glow.

"Gotta go, Mom," I said.

"Yeah, don't miss the Portkey." She blew me a kiss, as I put my hand on the shoe. Immediately, all I saw was blinding light, as everything around me disappeared. I was hundreds of feet in the air. I couldn't breathe.

As soon as I was off the ground, I was back on it. I landed in Larry's backyard; his small excuse of a yard.

Larry was already there. He was sitting on a chair, reading the Daily Prophet. Larry got up and gave me an awkward, one-armed hug, when I stumbled upwards. "It's good to see you, Care," he said, smiling. "You haven't changed much. How's Emilia?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Larry to his face, just like I couldn't call Emilia by her name to her face.

"I got you something. I don't think you have one, the last I checked with your mother."

I swallowed hard. Knowing Larry, it'll be……I didn't even want to think of what it would be. "You didn't have to get me anything, Dad," I said, hoping to get out of my present.

"I felt like I had to. It's inside, come on."

Larry led me inside and into the kitchen. There was a long package on the table. "Open it," he said.

Hesitantly, I did so. Inside the package was a broomstick. It was long and polished nicely, but I frowned it. I guess Larry forgot about my fear of heights.

"It's a Cleansweep 2."

"Where did you get it?" I asked, trying not to sound so repulsed.

"Do you remember Jack Oled in London?"

"No."

"He used to go to the Quidditch matches with us during the summer."

That would explain why I don't remember him. I block painful, unnecessary things from my memory. That was easily one of them.

"Jack can't fly anymore, so he offered to sell me his broom cheap."

No kidding.

"What year is it?"

"It's a 34, but it's running great. Jack did a lot of work on it, so it's great."

"Did he buy it new?"

"Well, no. But, he did fix it up."

Even better! Totally!

"Um, La--Dad, I don't really know anything about brooms," I lied. I took five and a half years about brooms, I know a lot. But, Larry doesn't know that. "I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I can't afford to send it anywhere…"

"Really, Cara, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

The thing. It has possibilities, it seems. As a nickname, at the very least.

I sighed. "Dad, you really didn't need to buy me it. I could have bought myself a broom."

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He turned as he spoke. Larry is not comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited the same from him.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in England--wherever we were--is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks. "So, how's school?"

"I exchanged," I sighed. "But, it was good."

"What were your grades?"

"I sent you a copy."

"Right. I already sent them to the Headmaster," said Larry.

"Where will I be going?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The headmaster is Albus Dumbledore, one of the best wizards in the world."

I nodded. I've heard of him. He killed Grindelwald and discovered uses for dragon blood or something…I didn't do the best that part of the year. In fact, I was never really the best in History of the Wizarding World; the Muggle World was always my stronger point.

"On the first day, the Headmaster will want to see you. You'll need to go to one of the teachers and ask them to show you to his office."

"Okay."

"He wants to talk to you about the school and the Salem Witches' Institute and help get you settled."

"That's fine."

Larry gave up trying to make small talk with me, so I just went upstairs to unpack. I didn't have much because Larry already went to the shopping center--Diagon Street or something like that--to buy my schoolbooks and part of my uniform. Thank goodness Larry doesn't like to hover. I opened my trunk on my bed and started to pack my Diagon Street things into my trunk. Tomorrow I was leaving for school. Nowhere was I ready to leave.

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying and when I was actually asleep. The constant bullets of the rain on the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled my quilt over my head and later added the pillow, but the noise wouldn't stop. That was when I broke down to tears. Nothing would ever be the same for me. Ever.

I fell asleep sometime after four, which was eleven o'clock my time, when the rain finally settled into a drizzle. At eight, I was back up. Thick fog was all I could see out my window. Immediately, I became claustrophobic. You could never see the sun here; you were trapped in a cage by the clouds.

Breakfast with Larry was pretty quiet. He just wished me good morning and asked if I was all packed for school.

"I am, Dad," I said.

"I don't know what other classes you are going to want to take," he said, "so, when you decide, send me an owl. I'm sure you can borrow old books from your teachers until I can get down to Diagon Alley."

So, that's what it's called.

"Thanks, Dad," I mumbled.

"Are you excited for school?"

"You have no idea what emotions are running through my veins right now," I said, in mock enthusiasm.

Larry stopped talking then. He knew how miserable I was.

At ten-thirty, Larry and I apparated to the parking lot of the train station. Apparently, the kids at Hogwarts were on their winter 'holidays', technically vacation, all last week and they were returning today. That would explain why I left Boston earlier than I planned.

Larry rolled my trunk into the station for me. I sighed, as I read the name of the station. King's Cross. "What train am I on, Dad?" I asked.

"You have to go to Platform 9¾."

"What?" Is there such a thing as three-quarters of a platform?

"That's where you're headed. I'll help you get onto the platform; don't worry, Care."

I wasn't worried. Just dreading the platform. We got inside the station and Larry led me down the platforms. We reached Platform 9 and 10 and stopped. "Where's Platform 9¾?" I asked, looking around.

"Cara, you must know by now that not everything magical is what it seems. It's right there." He pointed at a column that stood between the two platforms.

"Huh?"

"You run straight through the brick and you'll be there."

Wait--somebody actually wants me to run into a wall. Easy enough. I do that anyways. I have the coordination of a marshmallow.

"Don't think about crashing; then you will."

I nodded. I'll make it through, I told myself. I'll actually do this right.

I sighed. Nobody was around, so I ran straight at the wall. Just when I braced myself to crash into the wall, I stumbled forward, hearing a loud train whistle. I straightened myself up and looked up, staring straight at a large, red steam engine.