CHAPTER 1
In her dark purple T-shirt, Grace Granger settled into her bed and yanked the red plaid comforter up to her chin; just the way she liked it. Her mother, Rowena Ravenclaw, sat on the side of her bed wearing thick reading glasses. Grant Granger, Grace's twin brother, was in the bed next to hers.
"Night, honey! Sleep well, kids!" Gregory Granger said softly from the doorway. He smiled one more time at his lovely wife. He was so proud of her for her newest book she published last week, the way she always had time for family, and how she had even founded a house at Hogwarts. Gosh, was that 20 years ago? He thought. He tried to fit all that into one smile.
From underneath his navy blue bedspread, Grant Granger poked his head out. His cinnamon brown eyes matched his twin sister's exactly.
"Mommy?" He asked. Grace finished for him.
"Can you tell us the story of how the two wizards met?"
Rowena smiled. In the dark room the kids couldn't see her; they were half asleep anyway. Her crystal green eyes twinkled.
"Once upon a time, I- I mean, a very beautiful witch was walking down the road to her school. She was your age, twelve years old. While she was walking, she dropped her coat in the mud by accident. Do you remember why there was mud, Grant?"
"Because it was raining,"
"Cats and dogs!" Grace finished.
Their mother continued. "She had to keep walking, or she'd be late. But then, a handsome young boy, about her age caught up with her from behind. He said nothing- but he handed her his coat."
"Didn't he get wet in the rain, Mommy?" Grace asked this every time.
"Well of course he did! But he didn't care." Rowena smiled and closed her eyes.
"And he smiled at her, with those cinnamon eyes that could... that could melt through chocolate..."
She froze for a second, remembering; then Grant yawned, and Grace completed his sound with a mumble of exhaustion. Acknowledging that the kids had fallen asleep, Rowena did her perfected silent-stand from the side of Grace's bed and tip-toed towards the door.
Twelve years old, she thought in disbelief. She smiled, again remembering the day she met Gregory, one of the happiest memories of her life. It was her standard Patronus charm moment.
She still had the coat.
Four Years Later
"MOM, I am GOING."
"NO. I forbid it."
"Rowena, maybe it wouldn't be too bad, I mean an experience-"
Rowena shot her husband a look. She tucked her shoulder length white-blond hair behind her ear and put her hands on her hips. Gregory knew that look; He had to drop it. The clouds darkened outside the kitchen window.
"You aren't going anywhere with those... those-"
"Muggles?" Grace snapped. She picked up her sparkly silver bag. "I'm going to see that race and I am GOING with 'those muggles.'"
Grant didn't see why she would even want to go see a bunch of horses racing. I mean really? Why not go see a Quidditch game, or at least a wizards chess match. He sat at the top of the stairs in his usual eavesdropping stance.
"This is final. You will not go." His mom wasn't giving in. Grant had never sensed so much tension in her voice.
"But- but I have this! To pay for tickets." She jingled a few coins to let Grant know what was going on- he always listened in on these kitchen conversations. She also unfolded a piece of paper.
"It's worth a lot- money," she said, explaining the dollar's value.
"And how did you get this?" her mom inquired. As if she didn't know.
"I- I got a job?" Grace lied.
Her mom was smarter than that. "If you buy tickets with stolen money-"
"But it's not-"
Rowena held up a finger.
Grant heard no more voices. Just a door slamming; his sister was gone.
She forgot her bag.
3
"Ok," Grant said to his parents around the dinner table. They had both cried after she left, but now their faces were painted with worry.
"She's only been gone 4 hours." Grant reasoned.
"FIVE." His parents corrected.
"She should've been back 3 hours ago," Grant's dad said.
Everyone jumped.
"There's been a murder! There's been a murder in town!" A man with a loud bell dashed through the streets. He rang the bell like there was no tomorrow. Everyone knew that meant they had to meet on the town green.
"Oh no," Rowena's forehead wrinkled like an old apple. "Grace. She doesn't know!"
"Leave a note, honey," Gregory soothed. "She'll come when she get's back."
"If they find out she didn't come-"
Grant ran down the stairs.
"They won't." He said, dead serious. "She's probably there already with the muggles."
"We can only hope."
4
Picture this- about 700 people, 1400 birds, and 2800 things obscuring Grant's view. He didn't know who was beneath the guillotine; only that they deserved to die. Murder had no excuse.
He looked around, making sure all of his friends were here and not on the chopping block. The only one he couldn't find was Carl, his best friend from kindergarten.
But he wouldn't- Grant thought, interrupted by the squealing of a bird.
He looked to the top of the guillotine. Muggle technology would always perplex him. Grant heard a mumble up front, and everything went quiet.
"Do you," The mayor inquired of the poor soul about to die, "admit to your crime of killing a man for money at the General Store?" He twirled his grey moustache in his finger.
"Yes." a girl's voice finished his question.
"Thee may prepare for death." He raised his hand straight above his head. A bird pecked at Grant's ankle and he looked up from his shoes.
He had a clear view of his sister Grace.
Grant shoved everyone away, the hot tears flowing, adrenalin flowing all around his body. He ran straight for her, to save her, get her back home, stop this, end it! Disbelief clouded his eyes and all he saw was his sister, lying there with her head on the wood. She faced the ground. Then she looked up and their eyes connected. It was like looking in a mirror, all he saw were her warm cinnamon brown eyes. The teal streak in her hair blew in front of her face; helpless. He wouldn't let her die, he'd sacrifice himself, anything, ANYTHING! He wouldn't let his twin sister, the diamond in the rough, the light in the dark-
The mayors hand sunk.
The guillotine fell.
The birds flew away, and the light went out.
A few of the muggles came to the funeral. The ones that helped Grace steal the money and never got caught. Maybe they did have feelings. Maybe not. Grant would never talk to them.
Rowena made a scene of kicking them out. Grant was lost in a muffled bubble of his own, like he was watching from afar. Then she declared that their family would never have anything to do with muggles ever again. Ever again.
The day was a blur. He stepped back, he needed some air. He watched his parents, crying on eachother.
"I wish," he said to no one in particular.
"I wish."
No one finished his sentence. Grace was gone.
5
When they got back home and saw Grace's forgotten bag on the kitchen counter, everyone (even Grant) burst into tears. After the akward silent ride home, any sort of noise was good for everyone. Grant ran upstairs, trying to run away from it all. Unable to face seeing his sister's empty bed, he hid in his parents room.
Resting his forlorn head on the window sill, Grant Granger stared into space. He watched the birds. He felt himself sinking, sinking as if into quicksand. But his heart was in his shoes; long, long gone.
It took him about a half hour before he realized someone was looking back. They lived in an all-Muggle neighborhood to keep the paparazzi at bay (when your mom founded a Hogwarts house and your dad founded Durmstrang, you're pretty well known), so Grant immediately felt exposed at this- this muggle staring back at him. A girl.
She had hair that matched his own, light cocoa brown, and smooth too. She had grey eyes that just stared at him- they looked like ice. The girl looked to be about his age and waved to him, a cute wave close to her face. Grant couldn't help but wonder what her name was.
But she was a muggle. Muggles killed his sister. Muggles were the enemy.
But she looked so innocent- certainly ALL muggles weren't killers. They couldn't all be bad.
Could they? Grant held up a finger to say "just a minute." He threw on some old sneakers and said he was getting some air. The front door creaked as he escaped.
She was in her front yard, goddess-like, sniffing a creamy flower on a tree. She met him half-way on the quiet road.
"H-Hi," She said, obviously shy. She started twirling her hair with her pinky.