As of March 2017: We are going back and editing this fic chapter by chapter. This one alone took us… three or four months? (Mainly because we're lazy procrastinators, but whatever). Anyway, you may find some plot inconsistencies for a little while, but they will get smoothed over eventually.

Just so you know, this is a collab fic (and account), that's why we say 'we'.

So… yeah. Enjoy!

Hogwarts: Legends Unite

Part 1, Chapter 1

Merida

I was six when it happened first. It was my birthday, and my father had gifted me my first bow.

My mother wasn't pleased. "Fergus! You should know better! Merida is a lady!"

My father had laughed. "Elinor! That's a rather backward attitude, isn't it? Merida should be free to choose any hobby she likes."

While they were arguing, I had snuck away into forest, taking the bow and a quiver of arrows with me. The ground was mossy, and the air was cool. Dappled green light shone down from the treetops, growing darker the further I wandered.

I stopped walking once I could no longer see anything other than trees. I managed to get an arrow on the bowstring string, and pulled it as hard as I could. Squinting, I took aim at a dark splotch on a tree trunk, about forty feet away.

The string was slicing into my small fingers, so with a grunt I let it slip. The arrow shot off through the trees, and to my excitement, embedded itself in the exact place I'd been aiming for.

I ran to fetch it, twisting the arrowhead out of the tree. I put it back on my bowstring and set my sights on another target. A branch with a bright green shoot poking out of the bark. I took aim, and just as I was about to release it-

"Merida! What do you think you're doing?"

I turned as my fingers were loosening, and the arrow landed somewhere to the side. I didn't even get to see where it was before Mum had grabbed me by the arm.

"Don't wander off into the forest, Merida! You could have gotten lost! You're coming inside with me right now."

I didn't want to obey, but being only small I couldn't put up much of a fight. Reluctant, I hoisted the quiver over my shoulder and put my hand in hers.

As we walked back towards the house, I turned back to see if I could spot the arrow. I scanned the area, but couldn't see any sign. Then with a start, I realised it was once again exactly where I'd aimed. Right through the middle of the little green shoot.

I had puzzled over it in bed that night. I knew I hadn't been aiming at the tree when I let go of the arrow, yet there it had been.

I came to a conclusion.

There was no other explanation. It was magic.

At first I thought it was the bow that had done it, but in the years following my sixth birthday, other things started happening. Strange things.

Once, I was in the kitchen washing the dishes, and I dropped a plate. I heard it shatter, but when I looked down it was all in one piece.

Another time, my mother had wanted me to wear a dress to a dinner party I was being forced to attend. She left the room to fetch it… and returned ten minutes later, unable to find it.

I didn't make any of these happen consciously, but I had worked out that it was me causing them. I was different to the other people at home or at school. I was magic.

Before I knew it, I was eleven years old. It was the summer holidays, I'd finished primary school, and my parents had enrolled me in secondary school. My future was planned out for me.

It was. But then the stranger showed up at the door.

"Merida, can you get that?" my mother called down the stairs. The doorbell had rung.

I rolled off the couch and walked into the entrance hall. I unlatched the front door, and pulled it open. The visitor was a rotund man, dressed in strange long robes and with a moustache that looked like two needles.

"Hello, dear," he said, giving me a curt smile. "You wouldn't happen to be Merida DunBroch, would you?"

"Yes," I said, growing suspicious. I had never seen this man before in my life, and he definitely wasn't local. Instead of the local Scottish accent I was used to, he sounded like a posh Englishman.

"Good, good. Er…" he peered over my head, into the hall. "Any chance I could come in?"

I realised I had probably been very rude by not inviting him inside immediately. I stepped aside. "Of course."

He nodded, gathering up his robes in one hand as he stepped through the door. In the other hand, he was holding a bunch of paper, and a money pouch.

"Who is it, Merida?" my mother asked, walking down the stairs. She caught sight of the man for herself.

"A visitor," I said unhelpfully.

"Mrs DunBroch!" said the man as Mum stepped off the last stair. "I am Professor Cogsworth of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Witchcraft?" Mum said, ignoring his outstretched hand. "Whatever do you mean by that? And did you say school? Why-?"

"Allow me to elaborate," said the Professor. "Hogwarts is a boarding school for magically gifted students aged eleven to eighteen. Your daughter, as I am sure she is already aware, has – let's say – abnormal abilities. She is what we would refer to as a witch."

My mother was lost for words. "You're saying my daughter is… magic?"

"Precisely." The Professor held up the papers he had brought with him, unfolding them to show to her. "And she has been accepted into one of the most prestigious magical schools in the world, Hogwarts. This here is a letter from the Headmaster, Professor St. North, and this is a list of the things Merida will need for classes. Cauldron, robes, wand – that sort of thing."

Mum was trying to keep up. "She'll have a wand? Where are we supposed to find a wand? How…? Is- is this a joke?"

"No joke, madam. There a world of witches and wizards out there, living amongst the muggles – that's our word for non-magical folk like you. We have our own sports, shops, villages, money system… schools too, of course."

My mother made no reply.

"Oh, and not to worry about finding school supplies. We shall arrange a date for me to accompany her to Diagon Alley. Lots of shops there, they shall have everything we need."

Mum was still overwhelmed. "Thank you, Professor. I, er… Merida! Why don't you go and play outside? We can discuss this… school some more. Maudie!"

Our housekeeper, Maudie, shouted from the kitchen. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you mind fetching Fergus, and preparing tea for the two of us and a visitor?"

"Right away ma'am!"

My mother exhaled, and flapped her hand at me. "Off you go, darling. We'll call you back afterwards."

Dejected, I walked out the door. I wanted to know more about this Professor, and about the whole world of magical people that existed right under our noses. People – witches and wizards – who could do strange things, like me! And there was a whole school for us? Did that mean I could learn how to use make whenever I wanted, cast spells and things intentionally? I was quite proud of the little tricks I could do, but they all happened by accident. Imagine if I could control them!

I loitered outside the house for a while, trying to overhear the conversation my parents were having with Professor Cogsworth. I felt sure I was going to die if they didn't let me go to Hogwarts. Regular secondary school already seemed like the dreariest thing on the planet.

Finally, finally, I heard my father calling my name. I rushed back inside as fast as I could, desperate to hear the outcome of what felt like hours of discussion.

I found the three grown-ups in the sitting room. They were gathered around a coffee table with three empty teacups on it. They all looked up as I entered the room.

"Well?" I put my hands on my hips.

My mother stood up and walked over to me. "You never told us you had strange powers."

"I didn't think you'd believe me," I said. "But does that matter now? Are you going to let me go or not?"

Mum folded her hands. "Well, Professor Cogsworth has explained a lot more to us now. This 'wizarding world' seems quite extraordinary." She sighed. "Of course, we'd have to cancel your enrolment at the other school, but… I suppose that could be arranged."

"So I can go?" I asked, hardly daring to hope.

My mum nodded, smiling. "You can go."

"Yes!" I wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you!"

Professor Cogsworth smiled. "I or another teacher will be here on Saturday to take you shopping for school supplies at Diagon Alley. Then, you start school on the first of September."

Jack

I looked up slowly, taking my head off my folded arms.

Mr Ramsey, my teacher, was still attempting to enlighten the class about the wonders of long multiplication. Being the last period of the last day of school, it wasn't working. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, quietly enough that it could pass as discussing the lesson. The teacher's solution to this was to keep droning on at the exact same volume as before. Honestly, I don't he cared about the lesson any more than we did.

I was bored out of my brain. A lot of wizarding families homeschooled their kids. Not mine. My mum had to work during the day, from morning till evening and sometimes longer, so my sister Emma and I went to a muggle school instead. My desk was right next to the window of the small room, which gave me the opportunity to daydream. But all I could do today was stare out at the oval. I couldn't wait to escape at the end of the day.

"Hey." I prodded the girl sitting next to me. "What's the time?"

She turned around. "Time to get a watch."

"I hate you." Normally I would have dropped it, but I had to know. "I'm serious, what time is it?"

She groaned and checked her watch. "2:20. That's forty minutes left."

"I could've worked that out on my own," I muttered, mostly to myself.

"You sure? Because the D you got in maths is sitting right there on your desk."

I looked down at the test paper we'd gotten back earlier that day. I hastily stuffed it under my English result… which was also a D. The girl gave a muffled snicker and turned back to her friends' conversation.

I piled up the graded papers from the different subjects, most of them fails, and shoved them into my schoolbag. Mum might want to see them later, but I'd keep them hidden in case she forgot.

I breathed out, ready to put my head back on the desk, when there came a sharp tap from the window next to me. I started. Right there on the windowsill was a bird – an owl. It stared at me, tilting its head, before giving the window another loud peck.

No one else in the class seemed to have noticed it, which meant it must have been a messenger owl, and shielded from muggles. The message attached to its leg was not a scrap of old paper, like the notes Mum sent occasionally. It was a proper envelope, fancy looking, with an actual wax seal on the back. I was intrigued. Trying to attract as little attention as possible, I slid the window open and removed the letter. The owl flapped away without a glance backwards.

I turned the envelope over in my hands. On the front was a bunch of curly writing that took me a few seconds to decipher. In the end, I found that it read:

Mr J Overland

Classroom E7

Hamilton Primary School

Burgess Hill

West Sussex

"Huh," I said under my breath. It was meant for me.

I turned it over and began picking at the wax seal. As I did so, I realised there was a crest stamped into it, a crest that looked familiar…

With a rush of recognition, I realised what the message was. My Hogwarts acceptance letter.

I'd been expecting it for a while, but there was always the tiniest lingering doubt it would never show up. I'd heard stories of kids born into magical families that never got accepted into a wizarding school, and though I assumed it happened very occasionally, there was always the worry.

But, my place at Hogwarts was confirmed. And there was no reason to stick around in this muggle school for a second longer.

Without saying a word, I stood up and dumped everything that was still on my desk into my schoolbag. I pushed my chair in and walked towards the door.

"Mr Overland?"

I turned to face the teacher, who had stopped the lesson and was staring at me, shocked.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I smiled, not only at him but at my classmates gaping in astonishment.

"Going home!" I said gleefully. "And I don't plan on coming back any time soon!"

And with that, I slammed the door behind me.

I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and broke into a sprint. I hurried up the path, out the school gate, and into the street. I checked behind me several times, but it seemed nobody cared enough to follow me. Or perhaps I'd kept them away with a moment of accidentally-performed magic - an occurrence that was getting more frequent these days.

I hung around town for a while, poking around shops and parks. I went back to school at three o'clock to walk Emma home.

It was what we did every day. Walked home together, through the town. It wasn't particularly large, and the wizard population was even smaller. We all lived near each other, though some houses were much bigger than others. Ours was one of the smallest, the first floor of a converted townhouse. When we got home, we waited for Mum to get back around dinner time. I think it was bordering on illegal for us to be alone for so long, especially since Mum often worked hours overtime. But nothing ever went terribly wrong. And today, she arrived back early.

"I'm home!" Mum shut the door behind her. She untied the apron she was still wearing and hung it on the coat rack. She looked tired, but happy.

I jumped off the couch and ran to fetch my schoolbag. "Guess what I got today!"

Mum had already started getting things out for dinner. "Did you get your marks back for school?"

I paused, the letter already in my hand. "Oh… yeah."

"How did you do?" She smiled hopefully before seeing my expression. "Oh, Jack. That's alright, it's fine."

She didn't look disappointed, but I wasn't completely sure. She was good at hiding her feelings, especially if doing so would make me and Emma happy. I decided my other news would probably go down better.

"Anyway, I was going to show you this," I said, holding the letter out to her. She squinted at it for a second.

"That isn't…" She flipped it over, grinning as soon as she glimpsed the wax seal. "Your Hogwarts letter!"

Mum wrapped her arms around me. "Oh, you're going to love it, Jack! You'll make so many friends, you'll love the classes… I had such a good time back in my school days!"

Emma was jumping up and down. "I wanna see! Get the letter out!"

I ripped the envelope open as the three of us sat back down on the couch. I smoothed the paper out over my lap. The writing on it was smaller and more joined-up than the words on the front, and soon enough the letters had turned backwards and muddled together, like they always did. I couldn't decipher a word of it.

"Can you read it out?" I asked Mum.

She took it from me and obliged. "Dear Mr Overland, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later than the thirty-first of July. Yours sincerely, Angela Potts, Deputy Headmistress."

I let out a contented sigh as Mum proceeded to read out the list of equipment. My place at Hogwarts was secured, and I was going to make my family proud.

Elsa

Things didn't feel right that night.

I was eight. My parents had tucked me into bed and said goodnight, then done the same for Anna in the next room. They went downstairs.

It was the same as every other night, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was different. I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. I could hear my parents' voices from downstairs. My door was ajar, letting in a little light from the corridor.

I stretched out under the blankets. The clock on my bedside table eventually reached half past eight, then nine o'clock and I still couldn't sleep.

I was just drifting off when I heard a third voice coming from downstairs, which I didn't recognise. Although I was too far away to listen to the actual conversation, I could hear the stranger's voice getting harsher and louder.

The voices stopped. A moment of silence.

Then, from the stranger, a more controlled utterance. With a jolt, I recognised it as the type of voice one uses to cast a spell.

There was a piercing scream. Mama.

A second spell came from the stranger, and the scream was cut off.

Then, only silence.

I didn't dare to move for several minutes, trying to process what I'd heard. I was also worried the stranger was still in our house, and he'd want to come after me next. But after hearing nothing, I decided to go downstairs and investigate.

I slid my bare feet onto the floor. The floorboards were smooth and cold, like ice. I swallowed, crept to the bedroom door and pushed it open.

"Mama? Papa?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it carried through the silent house.

I began walking down the stairs, every footfall making a thud on the wooden boards. The house was shrouded in shadow, and it was freezing. I wasn't affected by the cold, but that didn't mean I couldn't feel it. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs, it was obvious the house was far colder than it was supposed to be.

A dim, bluish light came from the front hall. I realised the front door must have been open, and decided to close it.

I never did.

Right in front of me, lying on the ground, was Papa.

He wasn't moving. His eyes were shut, but his mouth rested slightly open. The remnants of a terrified expression were on his face.

My mother lay next to him. Her arm was outstretched, a wand resting in her open fingertips. Her neck was at an odd angle, and her dark hair covered her face.

Their skin looked grey in the dim light.

I blocked out the horrible dread growing in my chest. They were just… sleeping. In the morning they would wake up, Papa would make breakfast, Mama would take us to school, and they would go to work, like they always did. Everything was going to be fine.

I curled up next to Papa. He was warm – and that meant he was alive, right? Forcing myself to believe he was okay, I eventually drifted off to sleep.

He was cold when I woke up.

. . .

My family had moved from Norway to England less than a year before my parents' death, and suddenly Anna and I were being uprooted again. We were moved to the other side of London to live with our aunt and uncle, Arianna and Frederic Corona. They had a daughter my age named Rapunzel and we both got along rather well.

I missed my parents more than anything, but the Coronas never failed to feel like family.

The true beginning of my story happened at midnight, though it couldn't have been less similar to the other life-changing night in my life. This time it wasn't even slightly cold, in fact we'd left the windows open while we slept. It wasn't deathly quiet; I could hear crickets outside, a clock ticking, and light snoring coming from my sister's room.

I lay on my side in bed, woken up because the summer air was too warm to sleep in. I had always found hot weather hard to handle, possibly something to do with my ability to control ice and snow. What can I say? Magic always comes with a price.

As well as the heat, bright moonlight was streaming in through my window. I had left the curtains open earlier, and now I couldn't be bothered to get up and shut them.

I remained in bed for few minutes, too tired to do anything, but not tired enough to sleep. I was about to roll over onto my back when a shadow obscured part of the patch of moonlight on my floor. I sat up with a start, my heart racing and wide-awake. I slid out of bed and tiptoed to the window.

I peered out at the sky for a few seconds, the moon blinding as I looked for the source of the shadow. I let out a disappointed breath, and I turned to go back to bed. As I did, I noticed a small owl sitting calmly on the window ledge. In its beak was a white rectangle of paper.

I drew in a breath. Being part of the wizarding world, I was used to owls spontaneously showing up at my window, but still. A letter at this hour?

It only took me a few seconds to work out what it was. I was eleven, very obviously a witch, and it was the summer holidays… what else could the letter be?

Now smiling, I unlocked the window and slid it upwards. The owl dropped the paper into my outstretched hand. It tilted its head, looking at me, and launched off into the night.

I ran my hand over the letter, shutting the window and walking to my bed as I fumbled with the wax seal. I sat down, then carefully drew the letter from the envelope.

I unfolded it. It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Nicholas St. North

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Guardian of Wonder, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Arendelle,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September.

We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Angela Potts

Deputy Headmistress

I couldn't contain my excitement as I looked through the letter, finding the attached list with the equipment and admiring the detailed Hogwarts crest at the top of the letter. I hugged it to my chest. This was actually happening! I had known forever I was magical; both my parents were, and there was the whole ice thing. But to actually get the letter, to see Professor North's name at the top... I breathed in and out, trying to calm my racing heart. I couldn't tell anyone until morning, so I was going to have to do my best to go to sleep.

I lay down, pulling a sheet over my body and tucking the letter under my pillow. I shut my eyes, but inside my head there was a stream of thoughts chasing away any desire to sleep. What would my wand look like? What house would I be sorted into? Would I be able to make friends? Would I even be any good at the subjects?

But the thoughts disappeared after a while. There was no use getting worked up about it now, not when I had the whole summer ahead of me. I was sure everything would sort itself out in the end.

With a smile still on my face, I fell asleep.

Hiccup

The waves were white today, and the rest of the water was more grey than blue. The sky was dark too, full of rain that wasn't quite ready to fall yet.

I got to my feet, folding my sketchbook up. I had been sitting on the jagged rocks on Berk's shore, watching the sea. I knew this side of the island faced Scotland. The other side, the cliff side, faced Norway. I often sat as near as I could to the ocean, probably since it was the closest I could get to land that wasn't a mass of wet rocks in the middle of the North Sea. I knew it was a stupid thing to do – it wasn't like I could see the coast that was hundreds of miles away – but it was comforting all the same. The thought that one day I might be able to see the world and leave Berk.

I stuffed my pencil into my pocket as I made my way back into the centre of the village. I had been meaning to draw something, but my mind was blank. One of the houses, maybe? The buildings on Berk were interesting, since they kept the old Viking style I was told had died out everywhere else in the world.

It made sense. Berk wasn't the type of place that changed its ways easily. Building houses the same way we did a thousand years ago was the least of our problems. The island was completely devoid of muggles, making it impossible for me to learn anything about them. Sure, magic was great, but muggles were coming up with new inventions right and left. And while they couldn't top magic, they were coming close. I wanted to see these muggle devices, figure out how they worked!

Even more than that, I wanted to explore. I had seen every inch of Berk before, but outside there was completely new territory, environments I couldn't even picture. Hundreds of miles of sand in deserts, cities made from metal and glass, rainforests full of snakes and tigers, millions upon millions of people!

Nobody else on Berk seemed to share this desire to find more. No one knew or cared what was happening outside our island. They told me I was just being selfish, or that I'd grow out of it. Some even put it down to my not having a mother, which was completely stupid.

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

I jerked my head up. I was on the docks. Astrid, a girl my age, was standing in front of me with an armful of axes.

"Whoa! What are you doing with those?"

"Taking them to the forge; they need sharpening," she said, stepping around me. "Which you'll remember is your job, running errands for Gobber."

"Oh. Yeah." I fiddled with my pencil. "I can take them, if you want."

Astrid sighed and looked back at me. "It's too late now. Besides, you'll probably drop them or something."

"Okay. Sorry." I watched as she walked away, her blonde braid flicking over her shoulder.

I sighed. I desperately wanted to be friends with Astrid. I mean, I would have settled for being friends with anyone, though Astrid was by far the most preferable. The other kids were… interesting to say the least.

There they were now, on the upper side of the village, wandering downhill in a group. At the front was Snotlout, who had greasy black hair and a thick skull. He was technically my cousin, though I'd never acknowledged it, and had been horrible as long as I'd been alive. He wasn't at all smart – I wasn't even sure he knew how to read – but he made up for it with brute force. You didn't want to get in his way.

There was Fishlegs, blonde and pudgy. He was okay, I guess. We had almost been friends at one point, since we both shared a love of knowledge. But then Fishlegs joined Snotlout's gang and it was all over. It wasn't like him to be cruel, but he was too weak to stand up for himself. He did whatever people told him.

Bringing up the rear of the little procession were Berk's infamous pair of twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut. They were pranksters at heart, and did whatever they wished (to the exasperation of everyone else on the island). At the moment, one of them had the other in a headlock, which sums up their relationship well. From this distance, I couldn't tell who was who. Honestly, I didn't care.

And then there was Astrid, in the opposite direction to the others, opening the door of the forge and delivering the axes. She didn't drop a single one, that took skill. I mean, Astrid was skilled. At everything. She was smart. And strong. She didn't listen to Snotlout; she could easily beat him in a fight. She could beat anyone in a fight.

"Hiccup."

I nearly dropped my book. "Dad! Hi!"

My father, Stoick, was the chief of our village. He'd been given the title 'Stoick the Vast', which pretty much summed him up. Vast. Tall and strong, with powerful magic. I still wasn't entirely sure I was actually related to him.

"Where have you been all morning?"

"On the shore, over there." I pointed.

Dad narrowed his eyes. "Really? Why can't you just… stay in the forge, and do your drawings in there?"

I scowled. "Why do you want to keep me inside? I was sitting. I already know this island inside out, and you still don't want me out on it? I want to explore even further!"

"Well, you don't exactly have the greatest track record for that type of thing, do you?" Dad said. Apparently that conversation was over. "Anyway, I've found you now - when did you leave the house this morning?"

I squinted, remembering. "Before sunrise?"

"Ah." Dad dug around in his pocket. "You must have just missed it."

"Missed what?"

He pulled out a piece of paper. "This. Arrived by owl, I expect. It was already on the table when I got up."

By owl? It wasn't often someone on Berk got mail, especially not me. I took the envelope from him.

Mr H Haddock

The Upstairs Bedroom

The Largest House

Isle of Berk

North Sea

I flipped it over. Sealing it closed was deep red wax, stamped with some kind of crest.

"You know what it is?" Dad asked. I looked up at him. He had a smile in his eyes.

I ran a finger over the seal. Four animals – a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle – were intertwined in the insignia. "That's not…"

"Hogwarts. I mean, it's your Hogwarts letter."

"Whoa." I had known it was coming, of course. Everyone on Berk did their seven years at Hogwarts, unless they were incredibly untalented at magic. But it had seemed so far away, I had almost forgotten about it. And now it was here in my hands, with no warning whatsoever. It didn't feel real.

"Has anyone else gotten theirs?" I asked. I hadn't overheard anyone boasting about theirs yet. I must not have been paying attention.

"No, nobody," Dad said, smiling. "You're the first."

Really? I'd gotten mine even before Astrid? Awesome.

"Speaking of Hogwarts, there's something I want to give you." He reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a wand. "My father gave this to me when I received my acceptance letter. His father gave it to him. Traditional, you know."

I took the wand. It felt odd in my hand, cold and lifeless. Nothing like the warm buzz of the magic I'd experienced. But I didn't say anything. Dad was in an unusually good mood, there was no point ruining it.

"What do the animals on the crest mean?" I asked, looking at the red wax again.

Dad peered closer. "Oh, yes. The four houses. Each of them values a different virtue; you'll be sorted into one when you arrive. I was a Gryffindor, naturally. Bravery above all."

"Bravery?" I was a lot of things, but I was pretty sure brave wasn't one of them. I laughed. "I'll probably be in some other house."

Dad's face grew serious. "I certainly hope not. You're a Haddock, aren't you?"

I swallowed. "I- yeah. Of course, Dad."

The smile returned to his face, but it was strained. He coughed. "Right. Good talk. Er… go ahead and read the letter, I suppose. We'll visit Diagon Alley for your supplies in a few weeks."

I nodded. As soon as his back was turned, I grinned. It wouldn't be long before I'd be leaving Berk.

Rapunzel

"Anna, pass!"

"No, no, she can't now, not if she's dropped it. Give me the ball back, we'll start again."

Elsa groaned. "This isn't working."

My cousins and I were out on the street in front of our house. We were with three other kids who lived across the road. Nani, her sister Lilo, and their friend David, had moved to London from Hawaiʻi a while ago. They were teaching us how to play Quodpot, a popular wizarding sport in America.

We were using the street as a pitch and a couple of banged-up cauldrons full of water as the pots. The game also required an exploding ball, and a broom for every player. We had substituted this for a regular ball and no brooms at all. Since using a non-exploding ball defeated the entire purpose of the game, we weren't having fun.

After a few more minutes of pointless throwing and catching, Lilo had had enough.

"That's it," she said, flinging the ball away. "I'm bored."

David nodded. "Changing it was a dumb idea. It's not the same without explosions."

I sat down on the curb. "I did want to play, too. All we have in England is quidditch."

"Ooh, I've seen a few quidditch matches," said Nani, joining me. "It looks good. They play it at Hogwarts, so maybe I'll join the team."

Elsa gasped. "You're going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes!" Nani grinned. "I got my letter a week ago."

"I got mine last night!"

Elsa hadn't been able to contain her excitement when she'd come down to breakfast that morning. I was a little jealous, but at least I knew mine might come at any moment. I couldn't wait.

There a was little more conversation about school sports, and then I heard our front door unlatch. My mum poked her head out.

"It's dinner time, girls! Come inside!"

"Okay Mum," I called back, then turned back to Nani and David. "Well, see you later."

"Bye." Nani stood up. "We should probably go too."

Elsa and I crossed the street, Anna racing ahead of us. I was about to comment on the sunset when I heard a sudden thwack of flesh hitting pavement.

"Ow!"

Anna had tripped on part of the path buckled by tree roots. Spitting out hair, she sat up. The end of her skirt lifted and revealed her knee, scraped raw and bleeding.

"How many times do we have to tell you to slow down?" scolded Elsa. She looked annoyed, but rushed to her sister's side.

"How much does it hurt?" I asked.

Anna sniffed. "A lot."

"Oh, no it doesn't," Elsa said. She looked pointedly at me. "It's a skinned knee."

I had already begun to unplait my hair. "I specialise in skinned knees."

This must all sound very odd, but it was all for a reason. I was going to heal her knee with my magical hair that glowed when I sang.

Perhaps I should explain.

Some time ago, back when my parents hadn't been married for long, they decided there was nothing they wanted more than a child of their own. However, this was a task more easily said than done. It took seven years before my mother became pregnant, and even then my parents' troubles weren't over. A few months into the pregnancy, my mum got ill. At first it seemed like nothing more than a common cold, but over the next weeks it didn't go away, instead getting worse and worse. Eventually, Mum was so sick she couldn't walk. She couldn't get out of bed. She could barely speak.

My dad was despairing. The sickness my mum had caught must have had an element of dark magic to it, because all the usual healing spells and potions were having no effect on her. Besides, it was always advised not to use magic on or near unborn babies – there was the worry that it might affect their growth.

But my parents were desperate. Something had to be done, otherwise both mum and the baby would die. As my mother was entering the final stages of pregnancy, Dad found something that just might save her.

He had been searching far and wide for a cure for this unknown, magical illness, and he had stumbled across a little-known potion called Florado Crisantemo. It was glowing gold in colour, and was activated by the recitation of a song. It was difficult to brew, which made it near impossible to find. Somehow, my father managed to locate a potioneer on the other side of the world who claimed to be able to produce the Florado Crisantemo. Although it must have cost an extraordinary amount of money, Dad sent away for a bottle of it. It arrived in the nick of time. Hoping no harm would come to the baby, Mum drank the potion, and my father sang the incantation.

It worked! Days after she had consumed the potion, my mother gave birth to healthy baby girl. Me! They were told the potion hadn't harmed me, either, which must have been a relief.

However, I had been affected. When I was born, my parents had noted I already had quite a bit of hair. That on its own was not too unusual - plenty of babies are the same. But this was different. Both of my parents had dark hair. I was blonde.

Mum and Dad guessed immediately what it meant. The healing powers from the Florado Crisantemo had been transferred to me.

I still wasn't sure of the extent of my power, having never tried it on anything more serious than a broken arm. The potion had brought my mother back from the brink of death, so there was no telling what my hair might be capable of.

And now, standing in the late afternoon light, I wrapped my hair around the graze on Anna's knee and prepared to sing the incantation. I'd memorised it over the years, despite not knowing what language it was in, or what it meant.

"Fulge, flos, et arde

Niteat potestas

Tempus retexe

Redde mihi spes meas

Sana vulnera

Mutetur aetas

Serva perdita

Redde mihi spes meas

Mihi spes meas..."

I unwound my hair, revealing perfectly smooth skin on the leg underneath. Anna, despite having seen me do this several times already, had her mouth open in awe.

"What do you say?" Elsa said, prodding her sister.

Anna grinned at me. "Thank you."

I stood up, then hauled Anna to her feet as well. "You're welcome. Now let's have dinner."

Soon we were inside, and the food was on the table. There wasn't much to talk about as we ate, so dinner passed in silence for the most part.

I was the first to finish my food. I took my plate to the kitchen to wash it up, scrubbing at the stubborn streaks until my hands were submerged in bubbles. As I held up the plate to let the water drip off, there was a thump from the window in front of me. A large dark shape, too fast for me to see, flew inside and hit the opposite wall.

I dropped the plate into the tub. Heart racing from the shock, and now covered in water and soap, I whipped around to see what sort of creature had burst into our house.

It was an owl. An average-sized, greyish-brown owl, the kind they use in the Postal service.

"Ugh," I muttered, wiping my wet hands on my even wetter skirt. "What do you think you're doing, scaring me half to death?"

The owl blinked, hopping towards me. It had an envelope tied to its leg. So it was a post owl. But at this time of day?

Then it all came together in my head, and I only had to glance at the paper to make sure-

Ms R Corona

13 Clements Road

Hounslow

London

YES!

"DAD, MUM! MY LETTER! IT'S HERE!"

AN: Latin "Healing Incantation" lyrics courtesy of YouTube channel O1ivette.