I would like to say a big thank you to those who has read my first fanfic: Frozen-Sequel. Because of the length of each chapter, I might not post daily but weekly. But all the same, please continue reading my story! :) For those who have not read my first one, you may as well read it for entertainment, though it may be poorly written.

Enjoy!

Nearly eleven years had passed and Ariane Larsen had been living joyfully and lavishly on Crescent Road. The sun emerged from behind the clouds and shone at the brass number ten on the Larsen's blue front door. The window of the living room was clean and translucent, showing the quaint warm settings of the room. Just on the mantel-shelf, there were two photos frames. The photos, curiously, were moving. The one on the left was a couple with a baby girl, waving and smiling. The one on the right was having the same content as the other one, with only the baby replaced by a child with similar face.

Ariane was glad that it was a Sunday. During the weekends she liked to stay indoors for the morning and wandered off in the afternoon. Though she had been living in the area since birth, she was not familiar with the environment as the other children in her age. Strangely, wherever she wandered off to, she could easily find herself back to her house without knowing the street names and road signs. There were times when she did something queer that she could not explain.

For the whole morning she had been observing the girl next door, Mandy Parker, who had been studying at the same school at Lilybank Primary School with Ariane since Year 1. Both of them were admitted to Nairn Academy, Mandy was trying out the uniform for the morning, whereas Ariane had no idea why her parents were not buying her any uniform or school books.

The Nairn Academy uniform consisted of a blue shirt and a dark blue Scottish kilt with a black fleece jacket that had a bronze zipper. Ariane thought the whole uniform was low-spirited even though her favourite colour was blue.

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise in the living room.

"Is it Snowy again?" asked Ariane.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Mama, is it Snowy?"

She got out of her bedroom and headed downstairs, finding something strange. It was not her family owl at the living room window. The screech owl used it legs tapped the glass hard, its mouth was holding a letter, written beautifully in ink.

Miss A. Larsen

Bedroom on the Second Floor

10 Crescent Road

Nairn

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. Surprisingly, there was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over with her hands trembling, Ariane saw a blood red wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"What was it, dear?" asked Mrs. Larsen.

Mrs. Larsen was a young woman with raven hair, and dark eyes. From her appearance, one could tell she could not be over 35. She bore a striking resemblance with her daughter, only the eyes and age could tell their difference.

"It's a letter, for me," replied Ariane and handed it to her mother.

"What letter?" A voice rang from upstairs.

Mr. Larsen appeared at the stairs, coming downstairs and settled down at the table with his wife. He was slight older than his wife, brunette hair and had the same sapphire eyes with his daughter. His hair was a handsome pompadour and never had his hair out of place. Considered to be handsome by the neighbourhood, he was surprisingly sensible and quiet with politeness, not a sign of arrogance or narcissism.

Ariane handed them the letter and glanced at her parents. Their faces were stiff and serious when they examined the seal, then weak smiles appeared.

"Anne, take a look," said Mrs. Larsen.

Ariane stretched out her hand with doubt at to take the yellowish envelope. She pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDARY

Headmaster : Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Larsen,

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 September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Questions appeared inside Ariane's mind, clouding her uncomfortably. It took her a while to gain back her sense and whispered, "What's Hogwarts?"

"It's time for you to know the magical world that you should be living in," said Mrs. Larsen. "Finally, the time arrives."

"You mean I am some kind of –witch?"

"Anne, you are a witch," stated Mr. Larsen. "Your mother's a witch, and I am a wizard. We are all magical beings."

There was silence inside the house only the hooting of the family owl, Snowy, rang from the kitchen.

"We—We—are magical beings?" gasped Ariane. "But—But I can't be!"

"You are," said Mrs. Larsen. "Have you ever found yourself made something unexplainable? Especially when scared or angry?"

Ariane looked at the table. Now she came to think of it…chased by a gang of street teenagers, she somehow found her way out of their reach…being scolded by the teacher without a reason, she managed to set fire on the teacher's skirt…Got teased by a boy in her class, she conjured a ferret out of nowhere and made it crept into his trousers…

She looked back at her parents, who were beaming brightly at her.

"Anne, you are a witch," said her mother.

"So what do I have to do?" asked Ariane. "You never tell me anything about magic and that world. I know nothing about it. Do I have to make poisonous apples and give it to someone? Do I have a make a spindle and prick someone's finger? Do I have to make a pumpkin carriage and turn mice into horses?"

"Perhaps we can tell you on the way to Diagon Alley," replied Mr. Larsen. "We need to get you things before school starts."

"Where is it?"

"You'll know tomorrow, and we'll try our best to tell you everything about that world that you are about to face."

"Get Snowy. I need her to deliver the letter." Mrs. Larsen said while getting out a bottle of ink and quilt in the drawer.

"Owl delivery service?" asked Ariane. "Aren't owls only pets?"

"Of course," answered her mother. "If not, why would we want to keep an owl?"

Ariane walked into the kitchen and found Snowy resting on the owl perch.

"Hi, Snowy."

The owl hooted and clicked its beak with affection. Its amber eyes blinked as Ariane stroked the speckled wings. She flew onto Ariane's arm and let Ariane get out of the kitchen.

When Mrs. Larsen finished using her quill, she carefully sealed it with candle wax and placed the letter in Snowy's claws. Snowy hooted and took off, disappeared behind the cotton clouds.

"She knows her way to Hogwarts?" asked Ariane.

"Of course," replied Mrs. Larsen. "She knows it well."