Elvira Scott rolled out of bed on a sunny late August morning, stretching, and cast a disapproving glance about her room. Her Irish setter, Avalon, shook all over with happiness as she ruffled his red-gold fur. Her owl, Oliver, hooted indignantly and clicked his beak. Elvira smiled and picked up the book that was hanging haphazardly out the bedroom window—"Quidditch Through the Ages". She regarded it—and the Nimbus 2001 leaning against the wall—with a loving smile.

"Maybe this year I'll get lucky—and be chosen for the Gryffindor House team, eh, Olli?" Oliver nipped her fingers gently, and she unlatched his cage. The grey-brown owl hooted gladly and flew out the window.

"Elvira Gayle Scott!" A shrill voice broke the stillness of the morning. "Last chance for breakfast!"

"Yes, Mum," Elvira called back. Opening the door to her room, she descended the stairs by twos. When she pushed open the door to the kitchen, her mother turned from the oven holding a large casserole.

"Good morning, Elvira, dear," she said. "Do sit down."

Elvira sat down next to her father at the table. "Mum, please don't call me Elvira."

Her father looked up from his newspaper in surprise. "Why, what should we call you?"

Elvira hesitated. Would they laugh? "Elly."

Her parents looked at each other. "I guess that's a reasonable request," said her father.

Elly smiled as her mum handed her a letter. "Here, Elly, a letter came by owl post for you."

Elly broke the familiar seal. "From Hogwarts! Supplies, Prefect badge, and…O.W.L.'s."

Her parents grabbed for the letter, but she held it aloft. "Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations, Charms: Outstanding, Potions: Average, Defense Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations, Ancient Runes: Exceeds Expectations, Divination: Dreadful—I'm glad I dropped that one this year—and Muggle Studies: Outstanding."

Elly's mum smiled through her tears, and plopped some casserole onto everyone's plates. "We are so very proud of you, Elly, we couldn't've wanted more in a daughter."

Elly's father patted her hand. "We love you very much."

Elly blushed scarlet. "Did Dom get his?" Dominic Drake was her twin brother, and had the same thick brown hair and mysterious deep brown eyes.

Mum produced an identical letter. "Dominic Drake Scott! Shall I open your letter without you?"

There was a thumping upstairs as Dom got out of bed and raced down the hall; he came running down the stairs, pulling his shirt on as he went.

Elly watched with a bemused expression as he took the letter from Mum and made his way to his seat.

"Morning, sis," he said, affectionately tugging on the auburn braid hanging down her back. She pulled herself closer to the table so he wouldn't see that she was wearing his pajama bottoms.

Dom opened his letter. "Potions: Troll, Transfiguration: Dreadful, Charms—" He stopped at his family's horrified expressions. "I was joking—only joking!" he said hastily.

Mum grabbed the letter away from him. "Oh, thank heavens, nothing below Average…"

Elly squeezed Dom's arm as Dad began a 'Responsibility is a Virtue' sermon, and bit into her casserole. This year would be a good one. She could feel it.