Just as I had predicted, it was a long, sleepless night. I watched the moon eclipse the tops of the bare trees, before it disappeared behind the shroud of thin gray clouds. I wondered how it was possible to hate your own flesh and blood, your mother, with the level of passion that I did.

As much as I tried to think of anything but my mother, my thoughts kept running back to her. I kept thinking of the audacity she had to come waltzing into the house hours after she was due to pick me up from the train station. I wondered how she could live with herself, devoting herself wholly to one child but completely forsaking the other two. I was so angry that I could taste metal in my mouth. A part of me wanted to storm down the stairs and challenge my own mother to a duel, but the rational part warned me that if I did, she would really forsake me and send me away to Hogwarts forever. And that would mean never seeing Naomi until she was at the school herself. Which would be a staggering five years from now.

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to banish the clinging thoughts. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyeballs until little spots of color popped and swirled in my vision. How was it possible for my life to become such a nightmare so quickly?

I jumped when I heard a quiet clicking against my windowpane. At first, I thought it was just the dry, barren tree branches scraping against the glass, but when I pointed my lit wand tip at the noise, I had to stifle a scream. It was Soren, furiously scratching the glass with his yellow feet. Clenched in his pale beak was a sealed envelope.

I threw open the window, which protested with shrill squeaks from long months of remaining shut. The barn owl fluttered in, perching himself on the top of my desk chair. He ruffled his feathers, trying to shake off the November chill. I struggled to close the window again, giving up when it was just a quarter inch from the sill. A good, stiff breeze would help chase away the thick cloud of dust and disuse that had accumulated in my vacant bedroom over the past months.

I took the letter from Soren's beak, scanning the face of the envelope. AMBER HARKSTONE, BELLINGHALL, SCOTLAND it read in carefully written calligraphy. Frowning, I tore open the letter. Soren hooted pitifully. I offered him a piece of stale cracker on my desk. My owl looked offended, but took the cracker and messily devoured it over my floor.

Ignoring his lack of manners, I pulled the paper free from the envelope and paced around my room while I read.

Amber,

You won't believe what happened this evening at dinner. James Potter and Sirius Black didn't come down for mealtimes twice, but they eventually came down for dinner. I suppose boys need to eat a lot of food. Remus said he didn't know what had happened to them. But I do.

They came down to the table and sat next to Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. He is doing much better, by the way. He is almost completely healed. Madam Pomfrey is a genius.

But here is the incredible thing: Potter and Black sat down at the table like it was just a normal day. They ate their food and acted like nothing was wrong. But Amber, their hair. Both of them had hot pink hair, the color of cotton candy.

It worked.

Hoping you and your sister are doing well. Please write me as often as you want. I miss you and I can't wait to see you again.

Love, Lily

I reread the letter several more times. The hex that Lily and I had found in that magazine… it had worked. Potter and Black were now blessed with pink hair.

Smirking in malicious pleasure, I sat down at my desk and whipped out a piece of parchment. I quickly scrawled out a reply to Lily, my fingers flying over the paper.

Lily,

Perhaps we should look inside of Witch Weekly for a counter curse to their plight. We could always let them enjoy their new hairstyles for a few days until they've learned some humility and manners.

I paused, thinking of Virginia. Of my mother. I wondered how much Lily needed to know. Or wanted to know.

It was better to keep the disease quarantined.

I put the pen back to the parchment.

How is Severus doing? I hope to be in Hogwarts soon. A week tops, I bet. Please give Soren a good treat for me. I feel bad that all I had for him was an old cracker.

Love, Amber

I folded the letter and slipped it into a fresh envelope. I scribbled down her name and address and presented it to Soren. "I need you to bring this to Lily Evans. The nice girl with red hair. She feeds you some of her meals, remember?"

Soren blinked slowly. He glanced outside, ruffled his feathers rudely, and turned his back on me.

I put my hands on my hips. "Fine. I get it. You don't want to fly in the cold, do you?"

Soren gave a quiet hoot.

Sighing, I left the letter on the desk. "Very well. Just make sure you bring it tomorrow morning first thing. Lazy bird." I stroked his back, the soft feathers like silk against fingers. Soren didn't seem to mind.

After a few minutes, I sat back on my bed and pulled out my Potions, Grade I textbook. I tried to focus on the words and the equations, but it was too much math. My temples began to throb. Closing my eyes, I closed the fat textbook and pulled out the Charms textbook instead. When I was tired of rereading the same information I'd long ago absorbed, I picked up a blank notebook from my bookshelf and began to illustrate the hidden tunnel I had discovered near the Ravenclaw Tower.

I bit my lip, my hands stilling. What if someone found this map? What if they knew what it was? A person like Black or Potter would undoubtedly turn it over to McGonagall or Filch for brownie points.

I remembered that I was miles from Hogwarts, back in my old room. "I'll simply leave it here before I return to school." I decided aloud, resuming my drawing. I traced the halls and a basic floor map of the castle, the parts that I knew. When I couldn't remember the rest of it, I opened Hogwarts, A History and copied down the map already drawn inside the pages.

I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep until my eyes snapped open. Faint gray dawn light filtered in from the dusty windows. I rubbed my eyes, gritty and heavy, the room slowly coming into focus. Soren was asleep on the back of the chair, his head tucked under his wings. The drawing I had been working on was slightly smudged from when my hands had moved during my sleep. I set it down carefully on the floor and tried to gather my bearings. I was still tired but was too restless to sleep again. Resigning myself to a rotten day, I woke my owl, who nipped my finger in annoyance. "Take this to Lily." I reminded him, cracking open the window. Soren looked mutinous, but plucked up the letter and sailed out of my room. I shut the window and quietly headed into the kitchen.

The entire house was still asleep. I had it all to myself, once again.

I set a pot of coffee to brew while I prepared myself another cup of tea. I wasn't hungry, but I knew Dad was exhausted and was in no way capable of making breakfast before he'd had at least two cups of coffee. I pulled out a carton of eggs from our henhouse and found a roll of pale bread. I thought of how ridiculous Potter and Black must look with their hot pink hairdos, clashing against their black robes and matching their lively personalities. I wondered what kinds of things McGonagall was doing to try and restore their hair back to their natural dark colors.

I cracked an egg over the frying pan and watched it bubble and boil over the medium heat. The sun-colored yolk rose like a hill from the whites. I flipped it over carefully with a spatula, to keep it from breaking. Pan-poached eggs were my favorite. Especially with toasted bread to dip in.

The coffee smelled wonderful as I slipped my egg onto the plate. I buttered the freshly toasted bread and poured myself a cup of the fragrant dark roast. Tea wouldn't perk me up the way coffee could.

"Did you bother making a plate for me?"

My stomach soured in an instant. I kept my back turned to her, afraid of what I would do if I saw her haughty, entitled face. Afraid of what kinds of things I was capable of. Like taunting a murderous willow tree.

I heard that awful, cringe-worthy sigh. "After all that I've done for you, and the least you could do is cook me breakfast. But here you are. Empty-handed as usual. And to think we're spending over four thousand Galleons to send you there. Just for this year. Imagine how those expenses could be used for your sister."

I slammed down my mug of coffee so hard it smashed against the counter. Shards of broken ceramic clattered against the floor. Hot coffee splashed everywhere, but I was so furious I didn't notice. I whirled around to face my mother, wanting to slap her across the face.

She narrowed her blue eyes at me, pretentious to the core. Every inch of her was drawn up. She was looking down at me as if I was some kind of pest she wanted eradicated. Immediately.

"If you want me to leave so badly, why did you write that letter asking me to come home?" I said with as much control as I could muster.

She raised a thin brow. "That letter was from your father. Not me."

I thought I wouldn't care what she said. But her words hurt so much that my eyes smarted. Part of me wanted to cry out, "Don't you love me, Mum? I'm your child too!" but instead I glared at her with as much loathing as I could direct.

My mother lifted her chin a notch. Daring me to say something. Anything.

"How's Virginia?" I ground out, feeling like I was choking on broken glass. God, God! Why do things have to be this way between me and my mother?

Mum looked surprised. Then her expression hardened again. "Sick. She's at the hospital."

"I guess I'd better get ready to go see her. Let me go put on my black dress and we can head over to her funeral."

I hadn't meant to say those words. I hadn't even known where they came from. Mum slapped me so hard I tasted blood. She shoved me against the counter. I stepped on broken mug with my bare feet, but it didn't hurt as much as the slap had. I stared at her, feeling my cheek already swelling.

"You will never be half the daughter she is." Mum hissed, her face right in mine. "I'm sorry she's the one who is sick."

I drew back, staring at her, wide-eyed, hurt beyond what I thought possible. "You don't mean that." I whispered.

Mum turned on her heel and grabbed her coat. She left the house before I could say another word.

I stared down at the coffee and the broken cup on the kitchen floor. Red was swirling in the pale brown coffee. I realized it was my own blood. Shaking hard, I hobbled carefully to the bathroom and numbly pulled down the first aid kit. I slapped a bandage over my wound and walked back into the kitchen. Dad stood at the foot of the stairs, rubbing his face wearily.

"What was that crash?" He asked, groping for his glasses.

"Nothing." I said, my voice thin but not cracking. I bent and picked up broken shards and tossed them into the garbage can. "I dropped a mug."

Dad frowned. "Did you cook breakfast?"

Oh, right. Breakfast. It sat cooling, forgotten near the stove. I nodded once and handed the plate to him. "Here. For you." My stomach was so knotted that I couldn't eat even if a feast presented itself before me. I wanted to throw up, to scream, to cry, to lose control, but it was as if a dam cemented my feelings inside of me. I patted paper towels down over the spilled coffee and poured him a fresh mug.

Dad watched me. "Where's your mother?"

I tossed the dirty towels into the trash. I let the cabinet door slam a little too hard. "She went to St. Mungo's." After we had words.

Dad sighed heavily. "She left without saying anything?"

I shrugged. The side of my face where she had hit me burned and stung. "I'm going to take a shower."

Dad tucked into his breakfast as I trudged back up the stairs. In the bathroom, I turned the water on full-blast. I kept it at the lowest temperature. I gasped in shock as I stepped under the freezing torrent, but forced myself to stay in the brutal water until my teeth chattered and my face and entire body were numb. My hands shook with cold as I shut off the faucet. I toweled off and noticed my purple lips and pink face. I looked like a drowning victim.

Better I was the sick and dying one. I thought as I reached up to touch a damp lock of my hair, which was dark blonde, almost brown, from being wet. The cold water had prevented my cheek from swelling too much. It would be as if it never happened.

But there it was, very faintly, almost invisible. My mother's handprint staining my cheek. Her rejected was five-fingered.

Turning my back on my own reflection, I left to dress for my hospital visit. I made sure to dress in black, just to spite my mother.

Once Dad and Naomi had eaten and dressed, we took a Portkey to St. Mungo's Hospital. I could tell they had been here many times recently by the almost automatic way they walked into the building and spoke with the healers on a first-name basis.

I knew I looked a fright. I hadn't combed my hair or done anything to conceal the dark circles under my eyes. I didn't try to stand up straight or look presentable. I didn't care. I felt like death. I wanted to look like it too.

I followed Dad down a long hallway into a room decorated with flowers and toys. It felt more like a garden than a hospital room. Hydrangeas, roses, rhododendrons, larkspur, baby's breath, violets, and sunflowers stained the room with bright and lively color and filled it with the wonderful scent of life and health. A pot of peace lilies was placed close to Virginia's bedside. I smiled wistfully and thought of my dear friend, miles away from the wreckage of my family.

Virginia lay propped up on several pillows. She was staring out of the picture window. The skies were bleak and gray. Tall, dark buildings rose into the air. Black smoke poured from the tops of rusty chimneys. I could smell the acrid tang of pollution and humanity. We were in London.

"Virginia," Dad said softly, "Look who came to visit you."

My younger sister turned her head feebly to look at me. I barely stifled a gasp of horror. In just two months, Virginia had lost even more weight. I could see her cheekbones jutting out of her thin, wan face. Her collarbone and ribs protruded from her paper-thin skin. Her sky-blue eyes seemed too big for her sallow face. Her hair was pixie-thin and pale like snow. Like death.

She took in a ragged breath, her white, cracked lips breaking into a faint smile. "Amber."

All of my problems with Mum vanished in a flood of concern for my younger sister. I forgot my anger at the unfairness of how Naomi and I were cast aside because of Virginia. No, that was wrong. It wasn't because of Virginia. It was because of this horrible, evil, nameless disease that was slowly eating her alive.

I moved to her bedside, grasping her tiny hand in mine. She was so cold. Colder than my morning shower. Her bones were fragile, like a small bird's. Her eyes connected with mine, still clear and sane.

"You look like death." Virginia laughed softly.

I blushed, feeling ashamed. "I know."

"Amber's tired." Naomi piped up.

Virginia moaned softly. "I am too."

Dad cleared his throat. Tears stood in his eyes. I saw my mother sweep into the room, but before she could utter a sound, Dad took her by the arm and gently led her out of the room, closing the door behind him. Us sisters were left alone together.

Virginia squeezed my hand, surprisingly tight for her weakened state. "What's wrong?"

I held my breath. Virginia, as innocent as she was, had a keen and uncanny ability to sense the truth in all things. I could never hide anything from her.

I let out a long sigh. "Mum."

Virginia nodded sagely. "Mum."

"She's sad." Naomi said, eyes downcast.

"We all are." I said thickly. I couldn't look at Virginia when she looked like this. Looked so dead.

Virginia tugged on my hand. "Listen to me, Amber. I don't want you all to act like I'm dead already."

"You look so sick." I confessed, trying hard not to lose complete control of Naomi. It would only frighten her.

My sick sister regarded me with those old eyes. Eyes that matched my maternal grandmother's exactly. Even the red capillaries were a perfect copy. "Amber. Celebrate my life. Please. I feel like you're all waiting for me to die."

Naomi made a muffled cry. Her head was buried in the blankets. Her shoulders trembled.

"We just…" I didn't know what to say. Words could hardly convey what I was feeling. What we were all feeling.

Virginia tugged on a piece of my now-dry hair. "It's getting long and wild. You look like a lion with all of that hair."

Naomi picked her tear-streaked face up. She sniffled. "She's a Ravenclaw."

Virginia's eyes widened. "What did Mum and Dad have to say about that?"

I gave a half-laugh, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I have a lot to say about being a Ravenclaw."

Virginia's eyes sparkled, the first real signs of life I'd seen in them for a long time. "Tell me."

I sat down in the chair beside her bed and held her hand in mine. I could feel her pulse, weak, but it was there. Naomi climbed on the bed and nestled next to Virginia as I told my sisters everything that had happened to me since the very first day of school at Hogwarts.

"This Remus boy sounds cute." Virginia teased as I finished telling them of my life as a Hogwarts student. "I think he likes you."

Confusion was quickly followed by a wave of embarrassment. "I hardly know him. And we're just first years!"

She smirked wickedly. "You won't be first years forever."

"Boys are gross!" Naomi squealed, making us both laugh.

"I agree." I told Naomi. "I'll never get married. I'll become a writer and the three of us will live by the beach in a cottage and have thirty cats."

"Oh, no." Virginia giggled. "We'll need flowers too."

"And cupcakes!" Naomi threw in.

Dad came back in, pale and strained. When he saw us laughing together, the stress melted off of his tired face. "Would you ladies like me to bring in lunch?"

My stomach growled. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. Missing breakfast had taken a toll after all.

"Yes, please." Naomi begged.

Virginia grimaced briefly. "I think I have an appointment with a healer first, Dad."

"Would you like me to send your mother in?" Dad offered.

I looked away. Virginia noticed.

"That's all right, Dad. I can handle it."

Dad didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. Naomi and I followed him out into the lobby and down to the cafeteria while a healer replaced us.

"She's looking better already." Dad said as he ordered lunch for us. "She's got some color in her cheeks."

"I love those flowers." Naomi chattered. "I want lots of flowers in my room too, Daddy."

"You will, come spring." Dad promised, handing us each a tray of food. We ate at a table, listening to Naomi regale us with tales of how she was going to grow a garden in the spring and cast a spell on them so that they never died.

"I'll call it the Virginia's Victory Garden." Naomi vowed, finishing her pumpkin pasty. "For when she comes home."

I watched Dad give Naomi a half-smile. "That's a great idea, pumpkin."

For the first time, Dad sounded like he had hope my sister would get better.

We visited Virginia every day for a week. Then another. Each time, she got better. I started bringing my accumulating homework so that Virginia could see that school was not the paradise she thought it was.

But she was delighted with the schoolwork and begged with me to let her help with the problems and the reading. So I did. She devoted herself wholeheartedly to studying and assisting me. Soon, my homework wasn't as much of a problem as a pastime, and then a hobby. Virginia was addicted to it, and she loved it. Soren brought me a letter daily from Lily, which I sometimes read to Virginia and Naomi in the hospital room. I wrote back to every letter.

Mum and I didn't speak. We avoided each other and pretended the other was there. Dad knew something was wrong, but neither of us would talk about it. Naomi and Virginia were oblivious to the tension and instead relished in the fact that I was a bona fide Hogwarts student.

"Show us some magic!" Naomi begged during the third week of hospital visits. Virginia put down my Charms textbook, looking amused. She had magic performed on her daily. But Naomi was like a budding sapling, and magic was water to her. She was drawn to it.

"I'm not supposed to do magic outside of school." I reminded her, but I was already pulling out my ash wand, which I never left out of my reach. I pointed my wand to the trash can at the end of the bed. "Incendio."

The litter burst into flames.

Naomi squealed and clapped. Virginia just smiled. She was gaining weight and her lips were soft and pink once again. Her skin no longer stretched taut over her bones. She was still underweight, but she no longer looked like a living skeleton. Even her hair was shinier and fuller.

"Do another one!" Naomi pleaded. "Please!"

"Don't get her into trouble." Virginia chided. Naomi gave her an annoyed glance.

"I can do another one." I said airily, loving the feel of magic flowing from my wand. It had been too long since I was in class, practicing magic at will and learning new techniques. It felt good to hone my magical skills.

I picked up Virginia's glass of water. I threw the water in the air, whipping out my wand and yelling, "Glacius!"

The falling water instantly turned to snow. It drifted to the floor in soft white flakes. Naomi was over the moon.

She clapped and cheered. "Do another one! Another one!"

Virginia smiled mischeiviously. "That wasn't in the Charms book, Amber."

I gave her a sheepish grin. "That's because it's in the Third Year's Charms textbook."

Virginia's eyes widened. "No way."

I tried not to feel proud, but I did. "I just like charms."

Virginia looked pleased. "I guess I have a lot to live up to next year."

Naomi smiled hugely at both of us. "Are you going to be a Ravenclaw too, Virginia?"

She smiled fondly. "I think I'll be a Hufflepuff."

"Excuse me?"

The three of us turned. Standing in the doorway was a healer. She was staring disapprovingly at my wand. I hastily stowed it back in my sweater.

"Where are your parents?" She sighed.

"At lunch." Virginia answered calmly. "What's wrong, Ameena?"

Ameena moved over to the bed, hands on her hips. "Nothing's wrong. We just need you to vacate the bed immediately. The entire room, really."

Virginia shot me an alarmed look. "What?"

Ameena nodded offhandedly, sniffing one of the pots of daises. "Yes. You need to be out today."

I rose to my feet uneasily. "Is this because of money? Are we… is she being evicted?"
Ameena frowned. "Of course not."

Virginia looked uneasy. "Then why am I being kicked out?"

Ameena laughed and gave us a warm smile. "You're not being kicked out, dear one. You're being discharged. You're well enough to go home."

Mum and Dad had the flowers taken home and placed in Virginia's bedroom before we left the hospital for good. Virginia looked like the picture of health. Her face was glowing with happiness and relief. Even Mum looked genuinely content.

"I guess this means you'll need to go back to Hogwarts." Virginia said as we walked in tandem to the Portkey. Naomi tagged along after us, humming off-key to a song only she knew.

I shrugged. "I don't think so. It's almost Christmas. Next week, all of the kids will be going home for holiday."

Virginia's eyes widened. "Really?"

I nodded. "It must be almost Christmas." It didn't feel like it. The time I had spent with my sisters had felt like time had stopped. That the hours we had all spent together in Virginia's hospital room suspended us from reality while my sister slowly but strongly recovered from her serious bout with her illness.

Virginia touched a poinsettia plant on the desk of a healer as we neared the Portkey. Tinsel and garlands hung from the rafters and Christmas music played over the PA system. Outside, snow had fallen and remained on the ground.

"We need to get a Christmas tree." Virginia mused as Naomi pushed her way between us and held onto one of our hands. Her innocent joy was contagious, and I found myself quietly singing along to Nat King Cole's "The Christmas Song" as we reached the Portkey. Mum and Dad were already waiting for us.

"I missed your singing." Virginia said as we all touched the Portkey. We were sucked back to Bellinghall, to an ancient wooden sign that gave directions to Bellinghall Center or to the Glen Navis Valley. We walked back through the snow along the single-lane dirt road, bordered by the old stone walls. How was it possible that just three weeks ago, Virginia had lain at death's doorway?

Back at the farmhouse, Dad took his daughters out into the woods to choose a Christmas tree. When we returned, Mum had made all of us warm mugs of hot chocolate. She had even topped them with whipped cream and cinnamon. I warmed my cold fingers around the hot mug, remembering our horrible morning all those days ago. My stomach knotted uncomfortably.

When the hot chocolate was gone, Mum played Christmas music over the record player while she brought out boxes of Christmas decorations. Virginia anointed the top of the Douglas fir with a tattered angel that Naomi had rescued from the neighbor's garbage two years ago. Dad stood under the archway between the kitchen and the living room and told Mum to look up. She had blushed red when she saw the little ball of mistletoe hanging above them. Dad had kissed her soundly to the horror of me and my sisters. When they broke apart, Dad was laughing and Mum was actually smiling.

Homework wasn't assigned over Christmas break, but Virginia continued to read through my textbooks and ask me about different spells and subjects. She peppered me with questions about James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, and Severus Snape.

"You're lucky to have so many friends." She had said dreamily, and I didn't have the heart to tell her only one, maybe two, of those names were actually counted among my friends.

It was hard to believe how pleasant and normal our family was.

Christmas Eve came. We attended the Christmas service at the local church and then went caroling with some of the parishoners afterwards. A light snow fell softly as we sang into the December night.

Afterwards, at the house, Mum made gingerbread men cookies and let us girls decorate them. Naomi ended up eating most of her ingredients. At ten, Dad read aloud the famous "Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus" letter and said a blessing over our family. "Thank you, Lord, for the health of our daughter Virginia Grace Harkstone. Thank you that Amber is receiving her education at Hogwarts. Thank you that Naomi has two great role models to look up to. Thank you for my lovely wife and thank you, most of all, for giving us this beautiful family full of love." He raised his eyes to Mum's, who had tears in hers.

Dad dismissed us to bed. Mum caught my arm as I went up the stairs. Virginia and Naomi paused, watching and waiting.

"Merry Christmas, girls." Mum said, and hugged me. I stiffened, then went soft. I couldn't remember the last time she had embraced me. I closed my eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of her vanilla and apple perfume.

Mum released me a moment later, looking sad and happy at the same time. Strange, because I felt the same way.

"Good night, girls." Dad said gently, breaking the moment and dismissing us to bed. I climbed the creaking wooden steps after my sister, throwing a glance downstairs. Dad was holding Mum, touching her arms softly, speaking in low, quiet tones. Mum's head was bowed, but she was nodding. I thought I heard sniffling, like she was crying.

I felt like crying too.

Naomi buzzed into her bedroom excitedly. "Father Christmas is coming!"

Virginia, for all I knew, still believed in the myth as well. The three of us crowded into the bathroom and brushed our teeth. Naomi scrubbed her furiously, apparently trying to be on her absolute best behavior in hopes of earning more gifts. She slammed her bedroom door, and I could still hear moving about excitedly, shutting her bureau drawers too hard and humming loudly.

"Good night, Virginia." I said, hugging my still-thin sister tightly. She no longer smelled like death. Now, she smelled like snow. Clean, pure, and soft.

Virginia sighed. "I'm so glad you're home, Amber. Thank you for coming back."

There was something in her eyes, something deep and dark. I felt a stirring of unnerving. Something primal warned me that something was amiss.

I met her sky-blue eyes squarely, searching her face intently. "Is there anything you need to tell me?" I asked seriously.

Virginia didn't blink. "No. Except… Merry Christmas."

She smiled gently and turned to go to her bedroom. I frowned, watching her go. Something was bothering her, though I wasn't sure what. Could it be jealousy over Mum and I having a truce in our ever-lasting war? Was she feeling alright? Maybe she was just sad to know that I had to go back to school after the holiday.

"Virginia, you know I'm coming back… right?"

Virginia stopped, her hand on the door knob. She half-turned, smiling peacefully. "I know. You'll come home after school is done."

"For summer."

She nodded once. "I'm fine, Amber. It's only for a few months."

Despite her reassurances, I felt that niggling sense of worry that she wasn't being completely honest with me. "You're coming to Hogwarts, aren't you? Next year?"

Virginia said nothing.

I felt an aching pity for my sister. All Virginia did when I had returned was devour my textbooks and homework. She just wanted to learn. I knew she was tired of being babied by our mother. She still treated Virginia like she was some obtuse toddler incapable of making her own decisions.

"I'm just tired, Amber. Nothing more."

I hoped she would be in school with me next year. If her illness was ebbing, surely she would be allowed to attend. Remus was ill. And he did just fine. He was even matched to my level of skill.

I padded back into my bedroom. The house was quiet, except for the soft tinkle of silver bells hanging on the lock on one of my windows. It jingled quietly every few minutes, stirred by some unknown presence.

I stood by the window and stared out into the distance. The village of Bellinghall was still illuminated with Christmas lights. Rainbow and white twinkled softly on the fences and trees and houses. I pressed my palm to the cold windowpane, wondering if I could be lucky enough to have my sister restored to health for Christmas. In the meanwhile, I thanked God that my family, my life, was finally at peace.

However long that peace lasted. In the depths of my heart, I knew it that eventually the storms of reality would end the sweet lull. If Remus was right and The Dark Lord was really at large, then it only a matter of time.

I was sure of it.