August, 2018.

Jennifer

Professor McGonagall's gaze flickered briefly over me – pitying, I thought, then a second later I was forgotten. She turned to my sister.

"Juliet, I presume," she said.

Juliet opened her mouth to protest – how could she possibly know which of us was which? No one ever could, and even Mum and Dad got us mixed up all the time. But Professor McGonagall seemed to anticipate Juliet's question and said kindly, "Magic always leaves a trace, Miss Belstone."

We glanced at each other, unsettled for a moment, then Juliet frowned and seemed to gather herself together, ready to launch into a speech.

"B-before you waste any time on me, Miss," Juliet began, stammering as she looked up into the teacher's strict face. She took a deep breath and the rest came out in a rush: "I'm not going to Hogwarts, I expect you don't understand what it is like unless you're a twin too, which most people aren't, but anyway, it's not fair! It's not fair that I'm a witch and Jennifer's not! And I'm not going to some stupid school miles away and leaving her behind. It would be like leaving half of me behind, and I won't do it. This whole thing is just – just rotten and wrong, and – and you can't make me."

I felt a warm rush of love for my sister, sticking up for me like this. I squeezed her hand and spoke up, quietly.

"She's right, it's not fair. And how can only one of us be magic anyway, Professor, it doesn't make sense, we're identical twins. We're exactly the same, that's biology! If you make Juliet go she'll run away, or I'll run away to find her. And you can't make her go, anyway."

McGonagall said nothing, just looked at us both with an expression I couldn't bear. Understanding, and kind, but without a flicker of agreement; and I knew that this wasn't over. I felt Juliet grip my hand even more firmly. We didn't look at each other but her thoughts, the same as mine, seemed to come through as clearly as if our minds were connected with wires.

"Always, always, always together..."

"I – I made a pot of tea just now," said Mum, going to the door. "I'll pour us all a cup. I think we all need to calm down and talk things through."

"We do indeed," said McGonagall firmly as Mum hurried out. "It's a little more complex than you think, girls, I'm afraid to say. Not as black and white as all of us would wish it were: I'm sure you'll have a different perspective after I have explained everything."

Mum came back in carrying a tray laden with teapot, cups and a plate of flapjacks and handed me and Juliet full cups of tea before we could refuse.

McGonagall accepted a cup too and sat down in the armchair Dad pulled out for her.

"Thank you, Mr Belstone. Well, I won't beat around the bush. I mentioned in my letter that there would be certain complications arising from any refusal to take up the place at Hogwarts offered to you, Miss Belstone." I opened my mouth but she held up her hand and said firmly: "Please allow me to explain first, and reserve any questions until I have finished. Firstly, as to your theory that identical twin sisters ought to both be born witches: yours is an unusual situation, but it is not without precedent. Magic is inherited – somewhere in your ancestry there will be a witch or a wizard. But magic is not a scientific force, quite the opposite in fact, and it does not follow the same rules as your...I believe you call it...'DNA'. It would simply appear in this case to, most unfortunately, have presented itself in just one of you: Juliet."

My jaw clenched. I looked at the floor as McGonagall said calmly, "Yet Miss Jennifer Belstone is correct in saying that you have no legal obligation to attend Hogwarts School and that we certainly cannot make you take up your place. However, there is a law, which has been in effect for many years, that every witch and wizard between the age of eleven and seventeen in Great Britain must receive a form of magical education for the duration of these years. This is for their own and others' safety."

She took a sip of tea, looking piercingly at me. "Magic is a powerful force, and when not harnessed properly it can be exceedingly dangerous – ruinously so. Terrible things have happened to children who were not taught to control their powers. Suffice it to say that ninety years ago the Ministry of Magic decided the risk was too great, and passed legislation which made it compulsory to receive a proper magical education. If parents wished to home-school their children, this was permitted, with support from governmental education committees to ensure that certain standards were met."

"But –" interrupted Mum, "Surely you aren't suggesting Peter and I home-school Juliet. We aren't...how..."

"Quite so," sighed McGonagall. "Muggle parents – by this I mean non-magical parents, of course – simply do not have the option of home-schooling. They must, therefore, send their child to a wizarding school. Now as I said you are correct in saying we cannot force you to go to Hogwarts, Miss Belstone, but it is quite the best magical school in the country – and I'm sure you will love it there, once you adjust to the – er – different circumstances..."

Juliet slammed her undrunk tea down so hard it slopped all over the table. "I will not love it and I am NOT going," she said furiously. "I already told you!"

"Juliet," Mum hissed, "Mind your manners..."

But McGonagall looked unruffled. "You do not have to go to Hogwarts, Miss Belstone. But you must receive some form of magical education, as I have just explained. There are other – institutions," she said, her nostrils pinching in distaste. "Hogwarts is not large enough to take every child with a spark of inherited magic within. But these schools are - how can I say this kindly – very poor places in every way. They receive very little Ministry funding because the standards are so low. The students they teach have very little magical ability, some are barely more than Squibs, and the education they receive is no more than the most rudimentary training. Oh, there might be the odd one, a witch or wizard of good magical stock whose parents wish to have them closer, so they can live at home instead of boarding. But on the whole they just aren't the kind of school any witch or wizard wants to go to. And when you have a place at Hogwarts, you'd be quite mad to turn it down in favour of, to name just two prime examples, Axbridge Academy of Wandwork, or Selburton Spell School. And I'm afraid to say that as it happens, the nearest other magical school to your place of residence is still a fair distance away; you would have to board there, also."

"Juliet's not turning down Hogwarts just because she'd prefer another rubbish magic school," I said rudely, thinking that McGonagall was being very dim-witted.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "I know, child. I know. But Juliet must choose a school. Otherwise the Ministry of Magic will be forced to step in."

Dad had been very quiet so far, munching on his flapjack, but clearly considering every word very carefully. He coughed suddenly at this and swallowed the last few oat crumbs. "Excuse me. Step in how? What other course of action would this – Ministry of Magic – be proposing for my daughter?"

McGonagall closed her eyes briefly. "As I explained, Mr Belstone. It is highly – highly – dangerous, for a young witch or wizard to receive no magical training. As they grow, without proper direction, they will find magic spilling out of them when excited or stressed, which would inevitably draw attention from the Muggle community. This, the Ministry cannot allow, as it risks exposing the rest of the magical community. It would violate our most critical magical laws. The Ministry would have to make sure any child who refuses to be educated is – how can I say this – safely contained – and they would take appropriate action to ensure this happens. We work very hard to conceal ourselves, Mr Belstone, for everyone's benefit – I am sure as an educated man you will have heard of the witch-burnings in Britain in medieval times, and of the Salem witch trials in the United States of America. No, we simply cannot have children running amok with their magical powers. And the other possibility is far worse. You see, magical education is crucial not just for the safety of the wizarding world, but for Juliet's own protection and well-being. If Juliet were to try to contain her powers, and live as a Muggle, she might find that they start to control her, to explode outwards in an unstoppable force. It can be indescribably destructive, and -" McGonagall hesitated "- quite often fatal."

My heart had been sinking lower and lower for the duration of this woman's speech and I could see Mum, Dad and Juliet all looking utterly horrified as the impact of her words sank in.

"So what you are saying," Dad quietly summed up, with his eyes closed and his hand pressing his forehead: "Is that if Juliet doesn't go to school to learn to become a – a trained witch – she will be shut away by a squad of powerful wizards to prevent her accidentally exposing your world to ours – and to save her from herself...or she could die."

McGonagall nodded slowly. "She wouldn't be shut away in Azkaban, of course...the wizard prison," she added, as we all looked blankly at her. "But she would be taken to some other safe and comfortable enough institution where the Ministry could keep an eye on her magic as she grows and be ready to...step in...if necessary. But – surely – you see now, that all this is just theoretical, and really, a quite ridiculous eventuality? It is what would happen if Juliet refuses to go to any magical school. But it is completely unnecessary, because to avoid it, all she has to do –"

"- is to accept the place at Hogwarts," I finished, flatly.

Juliet's eyes were huge, next to me. But after a pause, she spoke up too, bringing the whole conversation to its logical conclusion. "Because if I don't, these Ministry people would come – and we'll just be split up anyway."

There was a very long silence.

"So you see, Miss Belstone," said McGonagall at last, addressing us both with that same expression of kindly pity. "It is not the solution either of you wish for, evidently – but you can see that it is the best. And you can see each other every holiday."

Neither Juliet or I were stupid, and it was quite clear that McGonagall had won. We were eleven-year-old girls. We couldn't fight a squad of Ministry witches and wizards come to drag Juliet away and shut her up. Mum and Dad weren't magic, they'd never stop them, either. I doubted very much Juliet could hide – it seemed to be very easy to track witch children, somehow, as my sister's current whereabouts had shown up on some magical register.

I knew what Juliet was thinking, because it was what I'd feel if our places were reversed. If I had to be educated away from home, I'd pick the proper school, not some awful institution for barely magical children and people with weirdo parents.

"So," said Juliet, so quietly I could barely hear her, "So. I'm going to Hogwarts."

Her blue eyes met mine for a long moment, and I could see her fury, which matched the slow anger curling inside me.

As Professor McGonagall, Mum and Dad gave sighs of relief and began to discuss some practical aspects of the school, Juliet whispered to me, "Stuff their whole rotten system. Fine, they won this one, but I'm not giving up, you know."

"Me either," I whispered back. "Never."