"Lilah, you aren't ready yet?" My mother's tone was surprised, anxious and a little annoyed as she stopped in my bedroom doorway to see me sprawled on my bedroom floor, still dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt as I flipped through one of my school textbooks.

I hesitated and stared down at the page in front of me, reading the word tentacula over and over as I thought of what I wanted to say to my mother. Finally, I looked up at her. "No, not yet, because I was hoping you'd be able to help me…you know, maybe you can help me with my hair and paint my nails…or something." I shrugged. I doubted she'd say yes, but it was worth a shot.

Her expression softened for a moment. "I'm sorry, I've already painted my nails." She showed me one of her hands and wiggled her fingers, the ends of which contained five perfectly manicured nails. There wasn't a single smudge anywhere and no polish had gotten on her skin around the nail.

"Yeah, but maybe you can do mine. I always get more nail polish on my hand than on my nail."

"You just need practice is all," Mum said. She paused. "And I'd love to help with your hair, but…." She trailed off and glanced down the hallway. "The caterers might need something and then I'd have to leave. I have to keep an eye on what's going on downstairs. The party is in an hour and...you understand, don't you? You're completely capable of doing a fine job of getting yourself ready," she said. "Unfortunately, there's just too much that I need to tend to downstairs before people start arriving."

"You hired people to take care of most of it," I muttered, going back to my textbook.

"Lilah, please," Mum said. I could picture her hand going to her hip as she gave me a look. "Just make sure you and your brother are both ready and waiting downstairs before guests start arriving."

"Fine," I muttered as she walked away down the hallway, her heels clicking with every step. I pushed myself to my feet and headed for my closet, where I pulled out the new dress Mum had bought me. It was red and knee length and flowy and just…beautiful. I loved it and didn't mind wearing it. I just minded the event I was wearing it to.

I put the dress on and brushed my hair, leaving it straight and putting in a silver headband. Then, I attempted to paint my nails a nice silvery color. My left hand came out okay considering I used my right hand to do it, but when I used my left hand to do my right hand, I got nail polish in spots of my skin around my nail. I sighed and held my hand out in front of me. It wasn't that bad and not that noticeable, especially from far away. I guess it would have to do for now.

When my nails had dried, I left my room and walked across the hallway to Julian's room. "You ready?" I asked, knocking twice.

"Yeah, come in," Julian said from the other side of the door.

I walked inside to see Julian sitting in his desk chair, staring at his reflection in the mirror across the room. He had on nice clothes too, including a tie.

"You look very handsome," I told him, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't think I like wearing ties very much," he said. "I can't really breathe."

"Well, how tight did you tighten it?" I asked with a laugh as I stood up and walked over to him. I pulled his collar back up and started loosening his tie as he protested and fidgeted around. "Stay still," I laughed. "I can't fix it with you moving around. Besides, you better get used to these. You'll be wearing one every day once you start school."

Julian stuck his tongue out at me, but he stopped fidgeting enough for me to finish fixing the tie and pull his collar back down. "Done?" he asked.

"Done," I said. I checked the clock hanging on the wall. "We'd better get downstairs."

Julian glanced at the clock too before nodding. "At least one good thing comes out of this party," he said as we left the room and headed down the stairs.

"What's that?" I asked curiously, unable to think of much good that came from the party. It was boring as most adult parties would be for children.

"There's good food," Julian said with a smile as he patted his stomach. "And I'm hungry."

I laughed. "You actually make a good point."

Just as we reached the last step, the doorbell rang. We looked at each other as Mum bustled past us, fixing her hair. She glanced at us as she reached for the doorknob. "Stand up straight," she reminded us in a whisper. Immediately Julian and I arranged our posture. "And," Mum continued, "don't forget to be polite and smile."

I plastered a smile on my face but let it slip once Mum had turned to pull the door open. I glanced at Julian, who looked back at me and sighed. I smiled for real that time and grabbed his hand. "Here we go," I whispered.

He gave my hand a squeeze. "Here we go," he repeated.

I turned away from another of my mother's friends and made a face as I sighed. Most of these people were nice enough, but I had probably answered the same questions about fifty times. Everyone here was a witch or a wizard, so they all asked me how Hogwarts was going, how my grades were, what my favorite class was…the usual. But this was usually after most of them commented on how positively grown up I was and asking how old I was now.

And then after I had politely answered those questions, a huge smile on my face the whole time, there was an awkward silence before most people I talked to smiled down at me, took a nervous sip of their drink—usually champagne because my mother's parties were always too fancy for butterbeer or firewhiskey—and then made some comment about how wonderful my mother was and/or how wonderful a job she had done putting the party together. I wanted nothing more to let out a snort and list the chores Julian and I had done before pointing out that we also had caterers. Mum actually didn't do all that much except supervise and tell everyone what she wanted done and how to go about doing it. But instead, of course, I smiled and agreed, which led to another awkward silence and usually one of us excusing ourselves.

After I finished talking to Mr. and Mrs. Something-or-other, I managed to sneak back into the kitchen, dodge a few caterers, and slink into the pantry where I closed the door and leaned my head against it as I sighed.

"Rough out there, isn't it?" a voice asked from behind me. I gasped and turned around to see the dim outline of my brother in the dark. He was sitting on the floor, eating from a bag of pretzels.

"Jules, you scared me," I said, sitting down next to him and dusting crumbs off of his shirt. "What are you doing in here?"

"The same thing you're doing in here, I expect," he said with a laugh, sticking two pretzels into his mouth and only making more crumbs.

"Everyone asking you the same questions?" I asked.

"Over and over and over," he said. "And once I answer them, I never know what to say."

"Neither do I so don't worry about it," I told him nonchalantly. I sighed. "But we should get back out there soon, unfortunately, before Mum notices we're gone."

Julian picked up a glass from the ground on his other side and took a drink of what actually looked like milk. "Snuck a glass," he said proudly, lowering it from his face to reveal a milk moustache. Mum usually made us drink water at her parties seeing as we were too young for anything else and milk wasn't "appropriate" for us to drink at parties. It made us seem like little kids, I guess.

"You have a milk moustache," I pointed out. Julian frowned before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Better," I said, standing up. "Now, come on, let's go before Mum figures out we're gone."

Just as Julian was standing up, I saw something moving on the ground. Apparently, he did, too, because he immediately crouched down again. "Bernard!" he gasped.

"You brought your pet hamster down here?" I asked, my eyes going wide. Dad had given Julian the hamster for his birthday in June. Mum had naturally opposed, but Julian promised he would take care of it and keep it in his room at all times and she'd never have to worry about it.

"I needed some kind of company when I was talking to all those people," Julian said, cradling Bernard in his hands.

"Mum will go crazy if she finds out you brought him out of your room—and to her party, no less. Please, Jules, bring him back upstairs before she notices."

"Why? I've kept him in my pocket this whole time and no one's noticed a thing. Besides, he never gets to see the rest of the house."

"He's not seeing it from your pocket either, so what's the difference?" I asked crossing my arms.

Julian was quiet for a moment. "Fine," he eventually muttered. "I'll bring him upstairs."

"You know if it were up to me, I'd let you keep him," I whispered.

"Yeah, yeah," Julian said, pushing open the pantry door and heading through the kitchen. I followed and made sure he was heading for the stairs before I slipped back into the living room. Not even ten seconds later, I heard a shriek and the breaking of glass before the whole house seemed to go silent. I squeezed my eyes shut. Please don't let that be what I thought it was, I thought.

"Lilah, there you are," a voice hissed. I opened my eyes to see Tess rushing to my side. "I just got here a few minutes ago and couldn't find you. What was that noise?"

"I have a guess, but I don't want to be right," I said. "Come on." I grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd of guests with the same intention as us: getting to the source of the commotion. When we reached the dining room, I saw Julian standing off to the side, holding Bernard, who I was sure I could see shaking from here. A few feet away, a woman was lying on the floor, her drink spilled all over her and the floor—both the wood and the rug placed under the table.

"What happened?" My mother bustled into the room and gasped when she saw the mess. "What's going on?"

"There was a mouse!" the woman on the floor screamed. I glanced up to see Julian attempting to slip Bernard back into his pocket, but my mother apparently saw as well. She pressed her lips into a line so thin that they became almost nonexistent.

"I apologize, Diane," she said, still staring at Julian, who looked back at her in terror. He was practically cowering against the wall. "But it wasn't a mouse. It was my son, Julian's hamster. He's not supposed to let him out of his cage."

There was another moment of silence before Diane actually laughed. "Well, that's a relief," she said, standing up and looking down at her dress, now with a soaking wet circle on the skirt.

Mum took in the stain on Diane's dress as well as the wet floor and carpet before turning to me. "Bring your brother upstairs and see to it that his pet gets put back in its cage at once, please. I'll deal with getting this mess cleaned up."

I looked at her, trying to silently communicate that I wanted her to take it easy on Julian, but she didn't seem to understand. And if she did, she didn't show it. I was afraid she'd yell at him or even worse, say something that made him feel even more upset and guilty than he already did. I didn't want that. I'd had her do that to me plenty of times and it wasn't fun to feel that way.

"Lilah, I meant now," she said sternly.

I nodded and crossed the room to my brother before ushering him out of the room and up the stairs. Once we reached his bedroom, I shut the door and closed my eyes for a second before turning back to Julian, who was silently slipping Bernard back into his cage. Once he had locked the door, he turned towards me, a sad and almost frightened look on his face. "He jumped out of my pocket," he finally whispered.

"Jules, don't worry about it," I said. "It was an accident. You didn't mean it."

"I'm going to be in so much trouble," he muttered.

"No, it'll be okay. She'll be mad for a bit, but it'll blow over."

"Mum being mad for a bit is enough," Julian argued.

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I got the chance, the door flew open to reveal my mother standing there, her lips still set in a thin line and her arms crossed.

"What on Earth do you think you were doing?" she asked angrily. "Bringing that rodent downstairs with a party going on!"

Julian flushed a deep red color and looked at the ground. "I just thought he'd like to get out for a bit. And I could have company…."

"Look at me when you speak, Julian," Mum said. "And you know the rules. Your pet stays here in your room and in his cage. Always. Besides, why would you need company at a party full of people that you know full well you should be socializing with?"

"I did socialize," he said, "but…."

"He's kind of shy sometimes," I spoke up. "He doesn't like talking to all those people. We don't even know half of them! And there are some of them that are so stuffy!"

"Lilah, enough!" Mum snapped. She turned to Julian. "You need to get over this shy business."

I snorted and crossed my arms. "Yeah, just like that. He'll just snap his fingers and—"

"Lilah!" Mum rounded on me, her eyes wide and her jaw set. Any moment, she'd actually start breathing fire. My instincts told me to look away and retreat into the corner, shaking with fear. But I didn't. Maybe it had to do with me sticking up for my brother, but my Mum's anger wasn't scaring me too badly today.

"Look," I told her, speaking calmly, which was actually still a bit difficult. "The mess can be cleaned up, there's no harm done…that woman laughed…."

"Of course she's going to laugh now," Mum said. "But when she's home, all she'll talk about is the rodent running around at the Christmas party she just went to. She'll talk about how it scared her half to death and she wound up on the floor with champagne all over her! And then she'll talk about how it wasn't a mouse, but the silly pet of the host's child!"

"Of course this ties back to you and how you'll look," I scoffed. "Julian feels terribly! He was afraid of your reaction! That's not how it should be! Can't you just think of him—us—for one moment and—"

"Lilah Michelle Fitzgerald, that is quite enough." Instead of yelling this time, Mum spoke quietly, her voice low and menacing as she glared down at me. "You two know the rules and you know how you're supposed to conduct yourselves. But yet it seems that you two can never do what I ask. Not one hundred percent at least. Julian needs a rat—"

"Hamster," I corrected.

"Whatever," Mum said, waving her hand. "He needs his pet to have courage to talk to people. It's ridiculous, really."

"He's nine!" I said.

"And you," Mum plowed on. "You really aren't setting a good example for your brother at all. He's not going to grow and change for the better. He's only going to get worse. Especially if you continue to let him believe it's okay to misbehave!" She paused. "I thought that once your father was gone, you'd grow up some, but you still aren't up to my standards. You've worsened in some ways, actually. Talking back left and right, letting your grade in Potions slip down to what it is…I honestly don't know what's gotten into you."

I stared at her, open mouthed. I had always thought Julian and I had been forced to act older than we were because of her standards, but did she notice that? Of course not. In her eyes, she simply zeroed in on the things we still did wrong and blew them way out of proportion.

"I think you should go to your room now," Mum whispered. "The party is almost over and I think you've made enough of an appearance. It'll be best for you to lie low now so I can fix the mess that was made." She held open the door and gestured for me to leave first. I did, with a glance back at Julian, who was looking at the ground again, completely miserable. My eyes filled with tears as I hurried back to my room and locked the door. I flung myself down at my desk chair and spun around once as I just let myself have a moment to be angry.

Then, I made the decision that I needed to talk to someone about what had just happened. Or maybe more than one someone. People who would understand and make me laugh. I couldn't talk to Tess because she was still downstairs. I wasn't even allowed to go say goodbye to her. Sighing, I pulled out some paper and beginning a letter to the twins, ranting about what had just happened. Then, I wrote one to dad, saying pretty much the same thing, but with more detail than the one I wrote to the twins. Then, I tied them both to Casper's leg and opened the window.

I rested my elbows on the sill as I watched the owl fly farther and farther away. It was cold outside and even starting to snow a little bit, but I didn't mind. I watched the white flakes flutter around, silently and peacefully. It was odd. It looked so peaceful outside. Peaceful, calm and normal. Definitely not what it was like inside my house.

It was funny, I thought, as I closed my window and changed into my pajamas, that my mother tried so hard to blend in with the people in this neighborhood, but she didn't do as good a job as she thought. She had all the technical stuff down, and to someone simply passing by, we were as normal as could be. But one look behind the closed doors, one could see that we weren't all that normal. Julian and I got yelled at for being too shy or not understanding fractions. We cleaned and put up decorations on our own and tried our very best to behave and do everything she wanted, but it was never good enough. It almost made me wonder if I'd ever be good enough—for my mother or for anyone else.

"So, how was your holiday besides the big hamster fiasco?" Fred asked. I had met up with my friends on the train and immediately felt a huge sense of relief to be back with them again. But once again, I felt a twinge of regret at leaving Julian behind.

My brother had knocked on my door a few minutes after I had sent off my letters to Dad and the twins. The second I opened it, he looked up at me with watery eyes and whispered, "You didn't believe what Mum said to you, did you? I love you and I think you're pretty great." In turn, I let out a laugh, shaky from holding back my own tears, and hugged him.

"Of course not," I said. But the truth was that maybe I had let my mother's words get to me. Maybe a little, anyway.

My mother was still angry at both of us the day after the party—Christmas day. That made it ten times worse. We opened presents together, but it wasn't as exciting as it should have been. It was another way I felt robbed of a childhood. I couldn't remember the last time Julian and I had stampeded down the stairs and torn into our gifts. Probably at least three years ago, but I wasn't even sure about that. Mum would always tell us to slow down whenever we did that, so it could have been longer.

"It was fine," I said now, in response to Fred's question. I shrugged one shoulder as I stared down at my hands. "I saw my dad last weekend. And he came over the weekend before that to help us put up decorations, actually. I just wish I got to see him on Christmas day. He gave me and Julian both picture frames, though. They had family pictures in them already. Family pictures with all of us in them. It was a nice idea." There was a pause before I put a smile on my face and looked up at the others. "How was your holiday?"

"It was pretty good," Fred shrugged.

"Come on, I'm sure it was great. You don't have to downplay it because you're afraid of hurting my feelings."

Fred and George looked at each other. "Okay, it was great," George said. "Mum cooked so much food, as she always does and we all got new Weasley sweaters." He gestured to the navy blue sweater with a white G on it. Fred had the same sweater with an F on it.

"Weasley sweaters?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, Mum knits all of us sweaters every single year," Fred said.

"All of you?" I asked in surprise. That was certainly a lot of knitting, even with the aid of magic.

"Every single one of us, even Dad," Fred said. "She even knits one for herself, but I think that's just because Dad told her she should so she wouldn't be left out." He shrugged and smiled.

"Nine sweaters," I said, shaking my head. "Isn't that a lot of work, even by magic?"

"Yeah, it takes her ages," George said with a shrug. "But she loves doing it. She insists, actually, and none of us complain because they're great sweaters. Really warm, too."

"I bet," I said, staring down at my hands. My mother would've thought the sweaters were hideous, but I loved them and a strange part of me wished I had one. Mum always just bought me clothes—I don't think she even knew how to knit, even by magic—and they were never clothes like the Weasleys always wore. They were nice, don't get me wrong, and I did love most of them, but the Weasley sweaters…maybe it had something to do with them being handmade, but there was something special about them that I kind of envied.

"You okay?" Fred asked, nudging my ankle with his foot.

I nodded. "Just thinking."

"Okay," Fred said slowly before brightening as he remembered something. "Hey, I wanted to ask you if you did the History of Magic homework over the holiday."

"Of course I did." I answered.

"That's right," he replied. "I should've known." He gave me a half smile. "Keeping your grades up."

I nodded. "Why are you asking?"

"Can we copy it?" Fred asked sweetly, gesturing to himself and George.

I looked from one pleading face to the other as my mouth spread into a smile and I laughed. "I'll let you copy my notes, not my homework," I finally said.

Fred and George both shrugged. "We'll take that," they said together.

I laughed. "I don't understand why you two can't just take your own notes."

"In History of Magic?" George scoffed. "We're too busy sleeping."

"Yeah, I mean we're passing every subject," Fred added. "Just barely History of Magic and Potions for me and History of Magic and Transfiguration for George, but we are passing."

"Will your parents be mad?" I asked curiously. I knew my mother wouldn't let me barely pass anything. I was already barely passing Potions as it was and my mother was on my case to bring the grade up by the end of the year.

The twins shrugged. "Not mad necessarily, but a little disappointed I guess. Mum more so than Dad."

I nodded. I wasn't really in the mood to talk about grades. It always seemed they were all my mother wanted to talk about. It got tiring after a while.

Once the train reached the station, we made our way up to the castle and towards the common room. I said goodbye to Tess before she headed in the direction of her own common room.

"You look miserable," Fred commented as we approached the Fat Lady's portrait. "I don't like it."

I looked up at him as a giggle escaped my lips. "Sorry," I shrugged.

"Are you still upset about how your mother reacted to the hamster thing?" George asked.

I shrugged again. "Yeah, it's that and I just felt extra bad leaving Julian again. He wasn't himself for the rest of the holiday either and he's not seeing Dad until next week. I'm hoping Dad can cheer him up, but it's a whole week that he'll be spending with my grandparents, doing nothing."

Fred stopped where he was and bit his lip in thought. "Want to help us practice Quidditch?" he asked.

"Don't you do that all the time at home?" I asked.

"Yeah, but we don't have a real pitch. And the only ball we have is an old Quaffle. No Bludgers and no Snitch. And no hoops to throw the Quaffle through. Just trees."

"How is this supposed to cheer me up?" I asked.

"I didn't say it would," Fred said with a smile. "I'm asking you for my and George's personal gain. We need to practice so that we'll make the team for sure next year." He paused. "And I'm also suggesting it in the hopes that getting you out on a broom actually will make you feel better. It works for me and George."

I smiled. "Thanks, Fred." I paused as I deliberated the offer. "And sure, I'll come."

The twins grinned. "Brilliant," they said, before Fred grabbed my arm and we ran the rest of the way to the dorms. We grabbed coats, hats, scarves and gloves and the twins grabbed their brooms before we ran back downstairs and out the doors to the Quidditch pitch.

"I'll get a broom for you to use, Lie," George volunteered as he jogged over to the shed outside of the door to the changing rooms. He pulled at the handle, but the door didn't budge. "It's locked," he muttered. He hesitated a moment before aiming his wand at the lock. "Alohomora!" He tried the door again and it still didn't budge. "Seriously?" he asked. "They charmed it against Alohomora. How protective are they of their brooms."

"It makes sense," I told him. "I mean, they're school property so if someone snuck one out, like we're doing now, and broke one, it's an issue. Or if someone got hurt, or even tampered with one before a match…."

"Well, why did you agree to this?" Fred asked. "If there's a possibility of getting in trouble—"

"Because I'm not going to break or tamper with the broom and I'm not going to get hurt," I said calmly. "No one will ever know I used it."

"And you call us over-confident," Fred muttered.

I gave his arm a shove before walking over to the shed to stand beside George. I pulled a hairpin out of my pocket and began to pick the lock. A moment later it clicked and I pulled the door open and grabbed a broom before closing it again. When I turned around, Fred and George were gaping at me. "What?" I asked casually.

"What was that?" Fred asked, blinking at me a few times.

"An old Muggle trick," I said. "Tess' dad told me how to do it. He used to use it for the same exact reason I just did back when he was at school. All you do is stick the hairpin in the lock and wiggle it around until it opens. Easy, really. Slower than magic, but easy."

"Do you just carry hairpins around for that reason?" Fred asked.

"No, not always. I grabbed one specifically for tonight though. I thought we'd need it. And luckily I have plenty of these lying around." I shrugged. "You know...long hair and all."

"Think we can borrow some?" Fred asked. "One of those pins, I mean. Not some of your hair." He shook his head and looked away as he fought back a laugh.

I giggled. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Fred responded as George nodded.

I shrugged and mounted my broom. "I don't see why not." I handed the one in my hand to Fred. "You might want to use this one to sneak into Madame Hooch's office and get the box with the balls in it. I'm sure she keeps them just as well protected as the brooms." I nodded towards the direction of the changing rooms. Madame Hooch's office wasn't far from them and both could be reached from the outside. "I'll wait here."

Fred took the hairpin from me and let out a laugh of impressed disbelief before grinning and jogging off with George. While I waited for them to return, I kicked off from the ground and flew around the Quidditch pitch a few times. I had been on a broom before, but not very often. Dad would sometimes take me and Julian to a clearing in the woods behind our house and let us take turns using his old broom. Neither of us had one of our own, though. Mum wouldn't allow it. We had to keep it a secret from her that we even flew a broom anywhere near our house. It had to do with her fear of being seen. Which did make sense, but the way I saw it, as long as we were hidden from sight, we were okay and no harm was done.

"Liles, get down here," Fred called from below me.

I flew down to the ground and landed beside the twins, who were carrying a trunk between them which I assumed contained the Quaffle, Snitch and Bludgers.

"We're going to need you to open the trunk and release the Bludgers," George said as he and Fred lowered the trunk to the ground. "Fred and I have had loads of practice using a Quaffle already, as makeshift as it is, but since we'll be trying out to be Beaters, we need practice with the Bludgers."

I nodded. "Got it."

The twins mounted their brooms and flew around the pitch a few times, taking a few practice swings with the borrowed Beater bats as they went. I sat down on the grass and watched them for a bit until I saw them stop in midair. Fred nodded to me and I leaned forward to open the trunk. The moment I did, the Bludgers began fighting against their holds as if they sensed they were about to be let loose. I released them quickly and they shot out at once, flying by on either side of my head and making my hair flutter. I turned to see the twins ducking out of the way as the Bludgers made a beeline for them. Fred actually ended up doing a barrel roll and I laughed as I made myself comfortable on the grass again.

The twins actually did a good job for not having that much Beater practice. Sure, there were times where they missed the Bludgers completely, but they never got hit with one, which was a plus. They even let me have a turn, which was actually pretty fun.

Finally, I happened to glance at my watch and gasp. Dinner would be starting any minute. I called up to the twins, and they flew back down to the ground. The three of us managed to get the Bludgers back into the box fairly quickly. Then, I put away the broom I had borrowed and we headed back to Madame Hooch's office. We slipped the trunk back into the closet in the corner before heading back to the door. When we opened it again, however, we all froze in our tracks. Filch was standing there glaring at us.

"Oh no," I whispered. I could practically hear the simultaneous gulps coming from Fred and George. I wasn't sure how he knew we were here, or if it had just been a coincidence, but it didn't matter. We were all most certainly in trouble and I was most likely about to get my very first detention.