Annie Williams was a witch. She had a good life going: a job at the Ministry of Magic, a wonderful Muggle husband, John, and a bright young daughter showing signs of magic despite only being four. Annie was extremely proud of what she had going, and the relative stability she had despite the recent wizarding war. However, she hadn't yet realized just how special her daughter, Juliet, was.
Annie sat in one of the cozy armchairs in the main room of the house. It had been a particularly stressful day at work and, because of this, she had a half-full glass of wine in one of her hands as she read a book. Always better to think of wine as half-full, she thought with a slight smile. She relaxed a little further in the chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire burning in the fireplace and the company of John, who sat near her, reading one of his silly Muggle newspapers.
There was a soft padding of small footsteps down the hall. Annie looked over her shoulder, surprised. Juliet had been put to sleep almost an hour ago. What was she doing up at this hour? Sure enough, standing in the middle of the hallway was Juliet, her short curtain of raggedy blond hair falling around her face.
"Julie, what are you doing up?" Annie asked in a worried tone, setting down her glass and getting up to go to her daughter. It proved unnecessary, however, as Juliet shuffled over to where her mother sat. "It wasn't nightmares again, was it?"
The child shook her head, and Annie relaxed, the worry leaving her expression. Julie had a surprising amount of trouble with nightmares, and she often wondered if the girl got enough sleep. "I saw a castle," Juliet said softly, and Annie, intrigued, shifted so that she could sit on her mother's lap.
"What did the castle look like?" Annie asked gently. John gave her a look, and she mouthed at him, Just a second. I'll get her to bed soon. This seemed to satisfy him, and he motioned that it was okay.
"It was dark out," the little girl began. "Night. It was a big castle, and the windows were glowing. I was on a boat, in a lake, with big kids . . ."
Annie felt a slight chill go down her spine. That sounded awfully like a description of the first sight of . . . she pushed the thoughts away and continued to listen to her oddly eloquent child.
"Then we went into the castle, and it was kinda dark in there. There were big doors, and a lady pushed them open, and we went in, me and the big kids. There were a lot of people in there, a lot of them, and there was a singing hat . . ." Juliet's eyes glazed over as she remembered. "I forget the rest."
"Was there anything other than the castle in your dream?" Annie pressed. The little girl thought for a second, then nodded slowly, like she doubted herself.
"I think so. I don't remem-ember it though." She stumbled over the word 'remember', but other than that, she spoke remarkably clearly for one so young. "I think there was a feather, and light- green light . . ."
Fear gripped Annie at these words. Green light . . . she shivered. "Alright," she said. "That's enough story time. You-" she poked Juliet in the stomach, and the little girl giggled- "need to get to bed. It's late. Mommy's going to bed soon too."
"Oh-kay." Julie jumped off her mother's lap and started to pad her way back to her room. She pulled the blankets over her small form, and, just before Annie left the room, she heard her daughter's voice. "Momma?"
"Yes?"
"I'll see the castle when I'm a big kid, won't I?"
Annie was, once again, surprised at how quickly the child had connected the dots. "Yes, darling."
"Good night, Momma."
"Good night, Julie."