Chapter 1 – Emma on Fire
Summer was coming to an abrupt halt, but not without a fight. It was pelting its heat on an innocent neighborhood, torn and disgruntled from a water restriction. A few of its residents attempted to put on a cheerful appearance, but their lives had been melted into sluggish movement and a complete lethargy, now distorted into something unrecognizable as activity.
Elizabeth Potter was one of those people. She had forced her hand to write letters to her friends, hopefully in much cooler spots than she was. She had taken weeks to finish only two of her many summer assignments. And she had to put the air conditioner on full blast just to be able to talk on the telephone.
Her using the telephone in and of itself was a strange occurrence. Liz was a witch, a pupil of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Magic folk, unlike Muggles, used owls to contact each other. Rarely did a magic family own a phone. But Liz was lucky in that aspect. Her parents (who were her adoptive parents) were Muggles and could not understand owl post. One of Liz's best friends, Rachel Yates, was a half-blood, and her father had a telephone, too, so the two girls now talked to each other regularly.
"I can't wait for school to start. It's too hot here!" Liz said.
"I know, but I'd rather not. The little monsters will embarrass me for sure."
Rachel had younger twin sisters, Carla and Theresa, who were starting at Hogwarts this year.
"I wish it were colder," Liz said absentmindedly. Instantly, the air conditioner's dial went higher than the highest setting, and Liz experienced a sensation like freezing and melting at the same time. "I'll call you later!" she yelled into the phone. She knew she wasn't supposed to do that, but it was so hard to remember.
Ever since she had turned thirteen, and particularly since she had gotten home for vacation, her magic seemed to be responding to her thoughts and feelings randomly. Sometimes it even went haywire for no reason at all. For example, at dinner the other night, the bowl holding the mashed potatoes had exploded. Most of the food had gotten on Emma. The weirdest thing about it was an overwhelming sense of power that made her seize up for a moment. Even weirder was the lack of notice. Underage witches and wizards weren't supposed to do magic outside of school, and usually they were notified when they did. No notice had ever appeared, and Liz wondered if they noticed.
She really regretted never mentioning to Rachel any of the bizarre incidences that had been plaguing her all summer. She kept meaning to, but most of their conversations were cut off by things like, "I've got to go, my desk disappeared," or, "I've got to go, there's a crater-sized hole in my floor." Those two had been worst-case scenarios, and had somehow miraculously fixed themselves overnight.
Liz had also been talking regularly to Michael Weasley, her other best friend, on the phone. His father, Ron, was a pureblood wizard, but his mother, Hermione, was Muggle-born. Apparently she had seen the necessity of owning a common Muggle telephone. According to Michael, the only one who put more hours on it than him was his older sister Jessica, a soon-to-be- fifth-year, who talked to her Muggle-born friends all the time.
Liz had one more friend, Chris Scott. He didn't have a phone, but he wasn't a wizard. He was a Squib, who had been disowned by his own parents in shame to go live with and help the elderly grounds keeper and teacher, Hagrid. Hagrid was nice, but Liz was careful never to touch anything in his cabin that moved except him and Chris.
Liz had been adopted because both her parents were presumed dead. Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. Although her father lived on in every single book Liz owned and his fame that made Liz an automatic celebrity too. But Liz had been receiving letters from her mother since her first-year, and they had continued to come ever since. They held a special place in Liz's heart and her top left-hand drawer.
She considered calling Rachel again, but what she really needed was a letter from Hogwarts with her supply list. When she received it, she could call Michael and arrange for a time to go school shopping with him and his family.
For a moment Liz felt strong, and then she heard a hoot. She supposed whatever ability she had had summoned the school owl to her, somehow. How could she be that powerful, to call the birds of the air, school, and post office to her? She determinedly put those thoughts away and opened the letter.
Dear Miss Potter,
Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, Platform 9 ¾, at eleven o'clock.
Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.
A list of books for next year is enclosed.
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Before Liz could re-read the letter and memorize it, like she did with most of her letters, her door banged open. Emma, Liz's adoptive sister and main summer-destroyer, stood framed in the doorway. In three swift movements (one from the door, one back, and one into the hallway), Emma snatched the letter from Liz's outstretched palms and took off.
It took Liz a couple of seconds to comprehend what had just happened, but once she did, she was after Emma. "Emma? Emma! Come back here and give me my letter NOW! I mean it!"
"I'll rip it," Emma threatened from the corner of her room. "And you know I would."
Liz knew she was right. For two years, Emma wouldn't stop at anything to make Liz's life miserable. She would bring around her friends and talk loudly outside Liz's door. The summer before Liz's second year, Emma had tried to snap Liz's wand. This was just another way to make Liz dread future summer breaks.
"Just give it back."
"Make me."
Liz wished she could. With all her might, she wished she could whip out he wand and curse Emma beyond recognition. She actually found herself reaching for her wand before she stopped. Something was happening with Emma, and that something wasn't good.
The letter was turning red, and red-hot by the heat radiating from it. Emma yelped, bouncing it between her hands like a hot potato, and it burned her every time. She finally dropped it to the floor, where it sizzled for only a second. "MUM! MUM!" Emma yelled, running out of the room. Liz picked up the letter before following her; it had returned to normal.
She found Emma and her adoptive mother, Mrs. Smith, in the living room on the couch. Mrs. Smith had a bowl of cold water and was dipping Emma's hand in it. Liz didn't bother telling them that it would hurt less later on if they dipped it in hot water. Emma was sobbing uncontrollably. When Liz entered the room, she cried, "Her letter burned me!"
Mrs. Smith looked bewildered, as if she didn't know what to make of it all. "Well, I'm sure it wasn't Liz's fault, honey, she doesn't do magic at home, remember? So it couldn't have been her."
"But—it was!" Emma protested shrilly.
Mrs. Smith looked at both of them. "Liz, run on to your room, dear. Emma, why did you have the letter in the first place?"
"Oh, Mum, before I go, can you sign this permission form?" Liz asked. "Third-years can visit Hogsmeade. It's really fascinating, but I doubt I'll go much. It might cut into study time. Maybe I'll just go for Christmas shopping."
"Sure, honey." Mrs. Smith took out her pen and signed. "Now, Emma—"
"Oh, Mum, can I call my friend about going school shopping? Please?"
Emma glowered at her. Mrs. Smith nodded.
Up in her room, Liz picked up the phone and dialed Michael's number. Jessica answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, Jessica. It's Liz. Can I speak to Michael?"
"Sure. MICHAEL! PHONE!"
Michael came on the line. "Hello? Liz? Is that you?"
"Yes. How are you doing?"
"You mean since the last time you called two hours ago? Pretty good."
Liz smiled. "I got my Hogwarts letter. Did you?"
"Yes. My mum wants to know what time for school shopping is good for you. Oh, and we're bringing Rachel, too."
"Anytime."
"Wednesday at ten good for you?"
"Sure. I'll let Mum know. Bye!"
Liz hung up and smiled. For the first time this summer, she wasn't worried about her magic, or her sister, or her real mother, or new classes she would begin in September. She was just glad she would be going back to Hogwarts.
Summer was coming to an abrupt halt, but not without a fight. It was pelting its heat on an innocent neighborhood, torn and disgruntled from a water restriction. A few of its residents attempted to put on a cheerful appearance, but their lives had been melted into sluggish movement and a complete lethargy, now distorted into something unrecognizable as activity.
Elizabeth Potter was one of those people. She had forced her hand to write letters to her friends, hopefully in much cooler spots than she was. She had taken weeks to finish only two of her many summer assignments. And she had to put the air conditioner on full blast just to be able to talk on the telephone.
Her using the telephone in and of itself was a strange occurrence. Liz was a witch, a pupil of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Magic folk, unlike Muggles, used owls to contact each other. Rarely did a magic family own a phone. But Liz was lucky in that aspect. Her parents (who were her adoptive parents) were Muggles and could not understand owl post. One of Liz's best friends, Rachel Yates, was a half-blood, and her father had a telephone, too, so the two girls now talked to each other regularly.
"I can't wait for school to start. It's too hot here!" Liz said.
"I know, but I'd rather not. The little monsters will embarrass me for sure."
Rachel had younger twin sisters, Carla and Theresa, who were starting at Hogwarts this year.
"I wish it were colder," Liz said absentmindedly. Instantly, the air conditioner's dial went higher than the highest setting, and Liz experienced a sensation like freezing and melting at the same time. "I'll call you later!" she yelled into the phone. She knew she wasn't supposed to do that, but it was so hard to remember.
Ever since she had turned thirteen, and particularly since she had gotten home for vacation, her magic seemed to be responding to her thoughts and feelings randomly. Sometimes it even went haywire for no reason at all. For example, at dinner the other night, the bowl holding the mashed potatoes had exploded. Most of the food had gotten on Emma. The weirdest thing about it was an overwhelming sense of power that made her seize up for a moment. Even weirder was the lack of notice. Underage witches and wizards weren't supposed to do magic outside of school, and usually they were notified when they did. No notice had ever appeared, and Liz wondered if they noticed.
She really regretted never mentioning to Rachel any of the bizarre incidences that had been plaguing her all summer. She kept meaning to, but most of their conversations were cut off by things like, "I've got to go, my desk disappeared," or, "I've got to go, there's a crater-sized hole in my floor." Those two had been worst-case scenarios, and had somehow miraculously fixed themselves overnight.
Liz had also been talking regularly to Michael Weasley, her other best friend, on the phone. His father, Ron, was a pureblood wizard, but his mother, Hermione, was Muggle-born. Apparently she had seen the necessity of owning a common Muggle telephone. According to Michael, the only one who put more hours on it than him was his older sister Jessica, a soon-to-be- fifth-year, who talked to her Muggle-born friends all the time.
Liz had one more friend, Chris Scott. He didn't have a phone, but he wasn't a wizard. He was a Squib, who had been disowned by his own parents in shame to go live with and help the elderly grounds keeper and teacher, Hagrid. Hagrid was nice, but Liz was careful never to touch anything in his cabin that moved except him and Chris.
Liz had been adopted because both her parents were presumed dead. Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. Although her father lived on in every single book Liz owned and his fame that made Liz an automatic celebrity too. But Liz had been receiving letters from her mother since her first-year, and they had continued to come ever since. They held a special place in Liz's heart and her top left-hand drawer.
She considered calling Rachel again, but what she really needed was a letter from Hogwarts with her supply list. When she received it, she could call Michael and arrange for a time to go school shopping with him and his family.
For a moment Liz felt strong, and then she heard a hoot. She supposed whatever ability she had had summoned the school owl to her, somehow. How could she be that powerful, to call the birds of the air, school, and post office to her? She determinedly put those thoughts away and opened the letter.
Dear Miss Potter,
Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, Platform 9 ¾, at eleven o'clock.
Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.
A list of books for next year is enclosed.
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Before Liz could re-read the letter and memorize it, like she did with most of her letters, her door banged open. Emma, Liz's adoptive sister and main summer-destroyer, stood framed in the doorway. In three swift movements (one from the door, one back, and one into the hallway), Emma snatched the letter from Liz's outstretched palms and took off.
It took Liz a couple of seconds to comprehend what had just happened, but once she did, she was after Emma. "Emma? Emma! Come back here and give me my letter NOW! I mean it!"
"I'll rip it," Emma threatened from the corner of her room. "And you know I would."
Liz knew she was right. For two years, Emma wouldn't stop at anything to make Liz's life miserable. She would bring around her friends and talk loudly outside Liz's door. The summer before Liz's second year, Emma had tried to snap Liz's wand. This was just another way to make Liz dread future summer breaks.
"Just give it back."
"Make me."
Liz wished she could. With all her might, she wished she could whip out he wand and curse Emma beyond recognition. She actually found herself reaching for her wand before she stopped. Something was happening with Emma, and that something wasn't good.
The letter was turning red, and red-hot by the heat radiating from it. Emma yelped, bouncing it between her hands like a hot potato, and it burned her every time. She finally dropped it to the floor, where it sizzled for only a second. "MUM! MUM!" Emma yelled, running out of the room. Liz picked up the letter before following her; it had returned to normal.
She found Emma and her adoptive mother, Mrs. Smith, in the living room on the couch. Mrs. Smith had a bowl of cold water and was dipping Emma's hand in it. Liz didn't bother telling them that it would hurt less later on if they dipped it in hot water. Emma was sobbing uncontrollably. When Liz entered the room, she cried, "Her letter burned me!"
Mrs. Smith looked bewildered, as if she didn't know what to make of it all. "Well, I'm sure it wasn't Liz's fault, honey, she doesn't do magic at home, remember? So it couldn't have been her."
"But—it was!" Emma protested shrilly.
Mrs. Smith looked at both of them. "Liz, run on to your room, dear. Emma, why did you have the letter in the first place?"
"Oh, Mum, before I go, can you sign this permission form?" Liz asked. "Third-years can visit Hogsmeade. It's really fascinating, but I doubt I'll go much. It might cut into study time. Maybe I'll just go for Christmas shopping."
"Sure, honey." Mrs. Smith took out her pen and signed. "Now, Emma—"
"Oh, Mum, can I call my friend about going school shopping? Please?"
Emma glowered at her. Mrs. Smith nodded.
Up in her room, Liz picked up the phone and dialed Michael's number. Jessica answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, Jessica. It's Liz. Can I speak to Michael?"
"Sure. MICHAEL! PHONE!"
Michael came on the line. "Hello? Liz? Is that you?"
"Yes. How are you doing?"
"You mean since the last time you called two hours ago? Pretty good."
Liz smiled. "I got my Hogwarts letter. Did you?"
"Yes. My mum wants to know what time for school shopping is good for you. Oh, and we're bringing Rachel, too."
"Anytime."
"Wednesday at ten good for you?"
"Sure. I'll let Mum know. Bye!"
Liz hung up and smiled. For the first time this summer, she wasn't worried about her magic, or her sister, or her real mother, or new classes she would begin in September. She was just glad she would be going back to Hogwarts.