The owl simplifies things. She's a beautiful Great Grey, with a wingspan wider than I can stretch both arms. I name her Eurus, for the Greek god of the east wind, associated with the season of autumn. When things get dull at home, she'll remind me that September is coming.

More to the point, she'll deliver my mail. Of which I have much to send at the moment, my daily scannings of the London Sun and various news websites having been more fruitful than I anticipated. So many notes to send…untraceable, unsigned.

Good luck tracing an owl.

Not that he won't figure it out, before long. But he won't be able to prove anything, and so he won't be able to go to Mum. And that's the whole point.

Within two days my phone buzzes, an SMS from a number I haven't texted in over a year.

You don't have to do this, you know.

I delete the text before I can even think about replying.

The trip back to Hogwarts is nothing like the first. For one thing, Mum waves me off far more enthusiastically than before, sporting an emerald green scarf over her denim jacket. No ominous whispers regarding Slytherin have yet reached her ears, which comforts me a good deal. It's only a matter of time, particularly given her scanty new acquaintance with recent wizarding history, but Mrs. Asaju seems to have assured her that Death Eater influence is all but nonexistent now.

The second difference is Violet. My first trip on the train was quiet, solitary, a time for observing and avoiding being observed. This time Violet, and to a lesser extent myself, are enthusiastically assailed by practically everyone in our year, even though Violet has seen most of them over the course of the summer. Souvenirs are shown off, stories are exchanged, and pranks are pulled…one of which results in Violet's new kitten, Rijah, turning a violent shade of lime green.

"I don't know, Violet," I tease. "The Muggles call it protective coloration…maybe Eurus will be less inclined to eat him this way."

But the look she sends my way is so full of pleading that I wave my wand and restore him to his usual handsome Russian blue.

The final difference lies in part two of our trip to the castle. When we disembark at Hogsmeade station and the first years are shepherded off toward the fleet of rowboats on the lake, the rest of the students file toward a line of carriages pulled by strange black horses. I pause by the first of these, ignoring the students jostling past. I've never seen any creature quite like it…black as night, but not sleek or glossy. It looks almost…skeletal. Withered, with bony batlike wings to match. And the skin, when I work up the courage to lay a hand on its neck, is leathery.

"Andrea?"

I step back from the horse. "What are these creatures, Violet?"

Violet tilts her head at me, no trace of irony in her expression. "What creatures?"

"What do you think, Vi? I'm referring to the winged, skeletal black horses pulling the carriages that will presumably convey us to Hogwarts."

Now her face takes on a definitely worried expression.

"They're pulling themselves, Andrea. I don't know what spell they use, but Muggles have the same thing, don't they?"

"Muggles have true automobiles. We," I reach for her hand, "apparently, have these."

Violet's eyes widen as her fingertips brush the withered neck. "What in Socrates' name?"

"You're branching out, Vi," I say distractedly, watching the reactions of the other students. Most of them walk by, eyes sliding over the horses as though they don't exist. One or two collide with the animals in their eagerness to climb into a carriage and scramble back up with mystified looks on their faces. "These things are invisible?"

"Far as I can tell," says Violet, wearing an awestruck look as she reaches out again, stroking a tentative finger along the pronounced spine. "None of my brothers told me about them. What do they look like?"

"Like dehydrated black horses with bat wings," I tell her, taking a rapid step back as the first of the carriages begins to move. "We'd better get a move on if we don't want to get left behind."

"But why can you see them?" Violet persists, as we clamber into a carriage.

"Dunno. I see a lot of things other people don't."

"Yeah, but a winged horse isn't just something you don't notice."

"Maybe they have a natural distractor enchantment. Like you told me about Muggles, and Hogwarts."

"It would be great for avoiding predators."

"Or being a predator," I say, leaning out of the carriage to eye our horse's sharp teeth.

"If we survive the trip to the castle without being eaten, I'll ask Xander about it," says Violet.

Xander, as it turns out, doesn't know, but Karel, Violet's oldest brother, does.

"You're in second year, so you wouldn't have Care of Magical Creatures yet," he says, glancing over his schedule. "I've got it tomorrow. Meet me outside Ravenclaw tower in the morning and I'll bring the book you need."

The book turns out to be a leatherbound scarlet volume entitled Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Karel flips to the section on pegasi and reads aloud to us the subsection on 'thestrals'.

"Well, that makes sense," Violet says, when it's over.

Karel looks up. "What does?"

"Her mum," Violet says, pointing at me. "A dead people Healer. Which is a thing, for some reason."

"They don't exactly have bring-your-daughter-to-work day at the morgue," I point out. "So it doesn't really explain why I can see the things."

"You never went to work with her? Ever?"

"I…don't remember, actually. She quit that job when I was four."

"Then you must have seen someone else die," says Karel logically.

"Not that I recall. Although there were a lot of photos around the flat, at one point."

"Photographs of dead people?"

"Actual corpses. Long story," I say hastily, when both Asajus open their mouths to ask the obvious question.

"Muggle photographs don't move, though," points out Violet. "Do they still count?"

"Apparently," says Karel thoughtfully, snapping the book shut. "The entry is pretty vague about what it means to 'see death'. Do you feel better now?"

"That I'm not crazy?" I ask ruefully.

"Oh, Andrea's crazy," Violet says, before Karel can respond. "It's my favorite thing about her. C'mon, Annie…let's see if we can fit in a game of Gobstones before breakfast."

"Just a moment. Karel," I point to the copy of Fantastic Beasts. "Do you need that for class?"

He smiles and places it in my hands. "I have it practically memorized. Hoping to be a kelpie trainer, if I score high enough on my N.E.W.T.s -- I hear they've gotten out of hand in Scotland."

"Thanks," I say. "I'll have it back to you before you know it."

"Once she's memorized it too," puts in Violet, pouting slightly. "I'm not going to get that game of Gobstones, am I?"

"I can multitask," I say. Karel winks at me.

"That's a new copy -- not a drop of ink, you hear?"

"Right," I say hastily, tapping the cover with my wand. "Impervious."

Karel is impressed. "I didn't learn that one until fourth year."

"I've been reading ahead," I say absently. "I know next to nothing about magical animals though. Thanks again."

"Sure, sure. Beat Vi at Gobstones for me."

"Not a chance," Violet cackles, as she herds me in the direction of the Hall.