Just a note: Sara is a liar. I'm not British or Japanese, at least not by percentages in the double digits. I was born and raised in Colorado, USA. Also, I'm human. I have spelling and grammar mistakes. If you find some, tell me so, and I'll fix them. And give you a cookie.
... or not.
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Chapter One: The Owl
The sky was a violent shade of blue on Wisteria Walk that afternoon in July. Sitting on the patio bench of her balcony, on the side of the apartment complex in which she lived, eleven-year-old Alise Gifford watched the birds flutter by. Curled up at her feet like a small, scrappy brown cushion was her Yorkshire terrier, Roxy. Every now and again, Roxy would give a soft, wheezy growl at the shadow under the car across the street, Tufty, one of Mrs. Figg's many cats. Each time, Alise would give the terrier a nudge with her bare toe, and the growling would cease, only to start up again within a few minutes.
"Sweets, I'm off to the store," Eileen Gifford's voice sounded after the thump and click of a door as it shut. Looking down at her mother on the walkway, Alise gave a disinterested nod. She wished her mother would drop that babyish nickname. It was a play on 'sweetie', and she really wouldn't have minded it too much if her mother hadn't been in the habit using it more than her real name. That, of course, was excepting the occasions when Mum referred to her as 'Alise Silvanus Gifford', the complete name on her birth certificate. It was also Alise's name when she was in Deep Trouble. "Want anything?"
"Nah," she responded, and stared back up at the swallows, who were building a nest in the old birch tree, with a little smile on her face. "I'm fine."
As her mother started up the guffawing Oldsmobile, Alise gave a wave. She watched her drive down the street, and then she straitened her black, fingerless gloves, nudging Roxy with her toe again.
"C'mon, girl," she said lightly, hopping off the bench. The little terrier bounced to her feet, tail wagging so hard her entire body shook. "Let's go in and-"
Alise's sentence was cut off, as she'd seen something that struck her dumb. Mouth dropping open, she raced to the edge of the balcony, gripping the cast iron and leaning so far forwards, she might have been in danger of toppling off.
Above the street, circling gracefully, was a large screech owl.
Nearly hyperventilating in excitement, Alise whispered harshly to Roxy, "I've never seen one of those out in the daytime...! What could it be doing here?" the little terrier whined softly, as though saying she had no idea. "Oh, blimey..."
"What's all this, then?" a quiet, calculated voice asked, and the glass sliding door opened. Alise's older half-brother Devlon, who was in his late teens, raised one eyebrow so high it could be seen over his horn-rimmed glasses.
"Dev, look!" Alise said breathlessly, pointing. "It's an owl!"
"Really now?" he asked, stepping up to her side, looking up in the direction she pointed. "...where?"
"Just there!" she pointed again, then blinked, her joyful expression melting into confusion. "Wait, where'd it..." she'd no sooner uttered this, then something shot towards her, clipping her so hard on the forehead, she nearly fell over. "Yeowch!"
There was a soft hooting noise, and the owl whooshed silently over them, perching itself on the storm drain. Dumbfounded, Alise and Devlon stared up it. Roxy yapped, bouncing around in circles. The owl hooted back once, as though the terrier had insulted it, and took off again in a huff. It circled the house once before disappearing over the rooftops.
It was only when it was out of sight that Alise nudged Roxy with her toe, shutting her up. Devlon jumped slightly, seeming to come back to reality, and prodded his sister in the shoulder.
"Oi. Look at that..."
Alise followed his pointing finger to an envelope of slightly yellowed parchment sitting on the cement of the balcony. Curiously, she bent down, shoving away the excited terrier, and picked it up. It was held closed with a very official-looking red wax seal, which looked as though it had been stamped. That was something rarely seen anymore. Studying it, Alise noted that it depicted a lion, a badger, a raven, and a snake around a capitol letter H.
"It's addressed to you," Devlon said incredulously, tapping the other side of the envelope. Dumbfounded, Alise turned it over. He was right. In neat cursive of green ink, the letter was addressed -
Miss. Alise Gifford
The Balcony
Wisteria Walk, Apartment 18
Little Whinging
Surrey
"... so plain there could be no mistake," Devlon whispered, almost in awe. Alise gave him a questioning look. "Er... never mind. Open it!" Nodding, she pulled free the red wax seal, and unfolded a sheaf of parchment that looked the same as the envelope. It read -
Dear Miss. Gifford,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
For a few more moments, Alise simply stared at the letter. Then she finally raised her eyes to Devlon, who was peering over her shoulder. "Wha... what's this mean...? Witchcraft... Wizardry...?"
"Gramma..." Devlon whispered. Alise looked up.
"What about her?" Emmeline Gifford had been dead since soon after Alise's birth, so it utterly escaped her why her brother would suddenly bring up her paternal grandmother.
"She..." Devlon grabbed the envelope again, raking his fingers back through his fine blond hair, making it stick out at odd angles. "The night..." he trailed off, taking a breath, seemed to gather his thoughts, and looked seriously up at her.
"The night she died," he said softly, "She told me something strange... 'If ever there is a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake... believe it...'"
Alise stared at him, then took a step backward, looking down at her toes. Roxy gave a low whine.
A chuckle surged through her, exploding in a loud, hysterical giggle. "Oh, gawd," she managed, clenching her arms over her stomach, stumbling and collapsing against the sliding glass door, holding onto it to keep herself upright. "Dev, you've outdone yourself..."
Devlon's mouth dropped open, and he blinked several times, holding the letter in his outstretched hand. "Alise... I didn't..."
"C'mon, I've already caught you," she giggled, still struggling to catch her breath. Another wave of laughter cut off Devlon's attempted response. "Though how you got that owl to deliver it, I'll never know-"
"Alise," Devlon seized her shoulders, but it didn't seem to stem the giggling. He gave her a sharp shake. The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by shocked silence. "I didn't send it."
"But-" Alise's lip twitched slightly. "But that's... can't be..." she studied her older brother's serious eyes. He'd never lied to her. Not ever. She could always count on Devlon to give her the truth of the situation, no matter whether it was nice or not...
She uttered an explicit swear word.
Their mother's golden-curled head popped through the gap in the sliding glass door, a scandalized look on her face. The expression was followed by a swing of a heavy purse, punctuated with a shriek.
"Alise!"
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: Author's Notes :
Name Pronunciation and Backgrounds
Alise (ah-LEES, rhymes with crease) – Alise's name was actually the product of a spelling mistake on my parents' part. My parents had opted not to be informed of my gender during my mother's pregnancy, and for some reason they anticipated a boy. When it came to giving me a middle name, the first that came to mind was "Elise". Being from a TV series, they had never seen the name in print, and guessed at its spelling.
Devlon (dehv-len, 'lon' rhymes with kin) – Full credit for this one goes to Michael Upchurch, who seems to have an endless arsenal of foreign names.
Eileen (pronounced 'eye-lean') – As I child I could never remember Queen Elizabeth's name properly, and was often corrected by my exasperated teachers when I referred to her as 'Queen Eileen'. I'm not sure of the real reason I said 'Eileen' instead of 'Elizabeth', but I suppose it was because it rhymed.
Gifford (GIH-ferd) – In a magazine, I once read an article about codenames, and a formula for creating one. Middle name First name; Name of the street you grew up on Last Name. This made my codename 'Alise Gifford'.
Nicolas "Kolya" Vasiliev (Nee-ko-lass kol-yah vah-SEE-lee-ev) – Full credit for character, name and personality all goes to Mike.
Silvanus (sil-VAH-nis) – I blame the game Neverwinter Nights for this one. 'Silvanus' wife went mad one night, murdering her child by candlelight.' Silvanus was the name of the god of the forest.
Warren (Wah-rin, 'Wa' rhymes with the 'wha' in what) – I happened to have a copy of Peter Rabbit on my desk when it came time to name this character. A rabbit's hole is called a warren, which for some reason I find odd. While typing, I began thinking on it and distractedly typed the word into the space I'd cleared for the name.