DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One.

3.

Frankie

Frankie was bored. The excitement of her first ever trip to the mainland had worn off after being escorted around the shops with all the other children her age from their island by the police chief of all people. Didn't he have anything better to do? Be a policeman, for instance?

He was always keeping an eye on her, as if paranoid she might wander off.

Now she stood in the far corner of Mrs. Leireag's shop with most of the others, watching as her friend Jack tried wand after wand after wand after wand. There was a pile of boxes on the counter, and they were almost taking up half the space. Frankie could sense the other children shifting about restlessly. After Jack found his wand, it would be her turn and then they could go home.

Suddenly Jack gave a yell of triumph as a small burst of flame erupted at the tip of his wand.

"Francesca, you're up," Nicholas Ainsley called, deftly whisking Jack's wand from his fingers and placing it back in its box. Jack protested, but Nicholas gave him a warning glare that sent him slinking back to the others.

"Last one!" Mrs. Leireag announced cheerfully, handing Frankie a dark grey box from the non-existent shelves while her apprentice started tidying away the boxes left over from Jack's turn. "Let's see how you do with this one."

Frankie held the wand, fighting the urge to fidget with the sleeve of her sweater. The sweater was an ugly yellow colour, and Frankie hated it.

"Not that wand, then." Mrs. Leireag took the wand away and handed her client a different one. Frankie felt no different after touching this one.

"Here. Try this." The apprentice was standing beside Frankie, holding out a wand he had taken from the pile that rejected Jack.

Frankie tilted her head to one side. "What kind of wood is that?"

"Dogwood." The apprentice motioned with his hands. "Go on – take it!"

Frankie did so – and before she realised what she was doing she touched the end of the wand to the sleeve of her jumper.

"HEY!" Nicholas shouted, but Frankie wasn't listening. She stared, mesmerised, at the red veins that spread out from the wand's tip. Before long, her sweater was no longer yellow but crimson.

"Well, aren't you the reckless one?" Mrs. Leireag said, chuckling. "Not everyone has an occamy feather in their wand."

"She'll have hers in its box too." Nicholas held out a hand, his eyes stern and angry. Frankie watched resentfully as he put it away. "And if you get it back before you go to Hogwarts, think yourself lucky."

Afterwards, she was so busy talking to Jack that she didn't hear Mrs. Leireag's words to Nicholas.

"If I were you, Mr. Ainsley, I'd be keeping a very close eye on that young lady. People with dogwood wands are mischievous enough, but paired with an occamy feather…" She shook her head. "That is not a safe combination."

"Believe me," Nicholas said grimly, "I know."