The summer holidays had now begun, and Euphemia had finished her primary education. She had spent the majority of her free time trying to figure out just what was going on, and why, and what she could do about it. But try as she might, she had been able to come up with very little.

The whole way her 'family' interacted was strange. They always made it sound like they had been forced to take her in. In fairness, they should have had a choice. She could have been given to an orphanage or put up for adoption. She did not believe they had taken her in out of the goodness of their hearts. There was something different, something special about her, but she couldn't figure out what. She knew there was no point running away. Things would be much worse on the streets with no money and no friends. Her biggest blessing was that Dudley was going away to some snobby boarding school this year, while she would be going to the local comprehensive, Stonewall High. She would be free of him preventing her from making friends. Not that she particularly wanted to be friends with her old classmates, all of whom were too cowardly to stand up for a girl being bullied.

One morning in the middle of summer, Euphemia was sitting at the breakfast table with Vernon and Dudley. They heard the gentle thud of the mail landing on the porch. 'Get the post, Dudley', Uncle Vernon said from behind his newspaper.

'Make her get it'

Euphemia got up, completely passive. She would pick her battles. Fetching the mail was not a difficult chore, after all. She flicked through the post, sorting it into piles based on the recipient. One envelope in particular caught her eye. It was thick, made with parchment, and had a wax seal on the back.

And it had her name and bedroom on it.

Now that was a strange occurrence. Euphemia knew what her family thought of anything strange. She quickly hid the letter behind a cabinet, and brought the rest of the mail into the kitchen. She excused herself as quickly as possible, retrieved her letter, and went up to her room to read it there. What she read shocked her. Was this some type of joke? If it was, it was an extremely elaborate one. Even as that thought occurred to her she knew there was no chance this was a joke. It explained all the strange things she had been able to do. Her parents must have been magical too! There was no other explanation. Aunt Petunia obviously wasn't magical. Had she been jealous? There must be hundreds of things she knew about Euphemia's parents and wasn't telling her.

It was a pity they hadn't given her any information on how to buy any of this stuff. And what exactly did it mean, to reply by Owl? She would have to find a way to get permission from Petunia, whom she doubted would be too pleased. She would have to come up with a plan.

Two days later, Euphemia put her plan into action.

'Aunt Petunia', she began. 'Wouldn't it be much easier for you and Uncle Vernon if I was gone for ten months of the year and I learned to manage the strange things that happen around me?'

Petunia visibly stiffened. She turned and faced Euphemia. 'The letter came' she whispered.

Euphemia nodded. Petunia scowled and appeared deep in thought. She started talking, more to herself than to Euphemia. 'They're not going to let you not go. There's no point in me even attempting stopping you. They took Lily away, and she was never the same afterwards.'

She looked up at Euphemia, and appeared to have reached a decision. 'Fine,' she said irritably. 'I suppose I have no choice.'

Petunia then shocked Euphemia by explaining she was famous in the wizarding world, because of the night her parents Lily and James Potter were murdered by an evil wizard named Lord Voldemort. Euphemia had ended up an orphan, and famous for something one of her parents had probably done. She told her she would bring her to London and show her where to get her school supplies. She explained why Euphemia had to stay there. Apparently there were blood wards on the house, the strongest possible shield to protect her from wizards meaning her harm. Euphemia didn't really understand that in honesty. How was she protected in school? Surely a grown up witch or wizard would've been a better guardian?

After breakfast Aunt Petunia dropped Dudley at Piers' house, and brought Euphemia to London on the train. She then dropped Euphemia at Charing Cross, with implicit instructions on how to get to a pub called The Leaky Cauldron, and what to do in the shopping district known as Diagon Alley.

As Euphemia parted ways with her Aunt, she decided Petunia probably did deserve some acknowledgement.

'Thanks, Aunt Petunia'

Petunias lips became very thin. She looked like she had accidentally ingested lemon juice.

'Don't think I'm doing this out of kindness, girl', she snapped. 'This way you'll be gone the majority of the year, and we won't have to waste hard-earned money housing you. Now hurry up and get going. I want to be out of here as quickly as possible.'

Euphemia headed towards the Leaky Cauldron. She wasn't a bit surprised by Aunt Petunia's outburst. Her plan had depended on the fact that Petunia couldn't wait to be rid of her. Nevertheless, it always hurt to be reminded that your only living relatives didn't care about you.

She made sure her fringe and cap were properly concealing her scar, and entered the dingy pub. She walked up to the barman and asked to be let into Diagon Alley. She made a mental note to buy a Coke, or one of those fizzy drinks Dudley always had, when she had money. It must be irritating, people passing through constantly and buying nothing. She watched, trying, and failing, to hide her excitement as he opened the gateway to Diagon Alley.

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