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July 2009

Isabella and Victor Spiro ended up keeping the little red-haired baby, and ever since she was brought home on that chilly November night to the Spiro home, the baby – christened Marietta in the same church at which she had been found – was spoiled indecently. Perhaps a newborn does not require designer booties. Perhaps a five-year-old girl does not need a pony. Perhaps a ten-year-old does not call for a diamond and pearl necklace. But whether she needed it or not, Marietta had it anyway.

Therefore, it was a not a surprise when her mother found a thick envelope in the mail. It was addressed in green ink to "Miss Marietta Spiro." Rather old fashioned, Isabella thought, as she examined the large seal on the back of the envelope. Hogwarts? What an old name ... why, she hadn't known Marietta had even applied. "Victor?" she asked, tossing the rest of the mail on to the counter. "Did Marietta apply to … Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts? Never heard of it." The muffled words came from the rear end of a pajama-clad man. The other end of him was stuck in the refrigerator. "Why do you ask?" he inquired, emerging with a pile of frozen pancakes and a handful of stale popcorn.

"Mari got a letter." Isabella shrugged, turning the envelope over in her hand. "Knowing those people, it's probably some new credit card offer."

"Nice credit card offer, though," Victor remarked. "Back when I still got them, they were on the back of cheap advertisements."

"I didn't know they had ads when dinosaurs roamed the earth, Dad," came an airy voice from the doorway. A young girl in a purple nightdress stood in the kitchen, leaning against the door.

Isabella laughed at the disgruntled expression on her husband's face. Marietta's sassy expression faded to a grin and her bright green eyes twinkled. Marietta's eyes were yet another thing that set her apart from her parents. Isabella and Victor's olive-complected features were distinctly Italian; Marietta's fair complexion and curly, bright red hair couldn't look less Mediterranean. There were other things too – things Marietta did that made her parents question exactly where their daughter had come from. But Marietta had yet to notice these differences and so they didn't allow such things to concern them. She was only eleven and her sheltered existence hadn't allowed her to even consider her background.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked, eyeing the frozen leftovers in her father's hands. "Oh, Mum … not that."

Isabella laughed. "No, your dad was just cleaning out the fridge. I think. I'll make some eggs, if you'd like."

"That sounds great. Did you get the paper? Saturday comics are the best."

"It's on the counter." Victor pulled out a carton of eggs and handed them to Isabella and asked, "Did you apply to a school of some sort? Your mum has a letter here from … Pigwarts, wasn't that right?"

"Hogwarts, dear."

"Right. Hogwarts. Did you apply?"

Marietta's attitude returned. "No," she laughed. "Is that some sort of joke? Hogwarts?" Victor tossed her the heavy envelope. "Marietta Spiro. The Bedroom on the Left … Dad, what is this?" Just as she began to open the large seal, the doorbell rang. Isabella was cracking eggs and Victor had returned to cleaning out the fridge, so Marietta ran to answer it.

A man stood at the door, dressed oddly in a raincoat and long underwear. He was accompanied by a smartly-dressed woman in her late twenties who had clearly mastered the art of dressing slightly better than her companion: she wore a black suit and her brown hair was slicked into a bun.

"Good morning, Miss Spiro." The woman smiled at her. She had warm brown eyes and Marietta smiled back, for some reason unafraid that the strange woman knew her name. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"I … uh … Mum?"

Isabella appeared in the hallway behind her daughter. "How may I help you?" she asked, casting a quick glance at the oddly-attired man before returning her attention to the woman.

"I'm here to discuss your daughter's acceptance into Hogwarts. May I come in?" Isabella nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. "Thank you." The woman's voice lost its delicate tone and was suddenly very businesslike and rather bossy. "Is there somewhere where we can sit? A study perhaps?"

"Uh … right this way."

Marietta spent little time in the dark study and though her parents occasionally flipped through the pages of the old books that lined the shelves, the room was a little dustier with disuse than they would like. Once they were comfortably seated in the large leather armchairs, the woman began to speak. "Mr. and Mrs. Spiro, it may have come to your attention that Marietta is an extraordinarily gifted child." Marietta beamed at her parents, who were still looking very uneasy. "You may have noticed certain oddities, certain quirks about her that were, perhaps, more pronounced in her early childhood." Marietta's proud smile faded. Oddities? Quirks? "I have been sent as a representative of my former school and as a personal favor from the Minister to inform you that your daughter has been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Marietta began to giggle. "Mum, Dad, that's hilarious! How did you convince these two to come here, and that man dressed as he is?" The man in question looked down at his apparel, thoroughly offended. When her parents did not meet her eyes, Marietta began to frown. "Mum … Dad … this is a joke, right?"

Her parents didn't speak, looking to the woman instead.

"Marietta, you are a witch."

Marietta stared at her. "You have to be joking, there's no such thing as witches. I don't believe this; Mum, tell me you don't believe this."

But Isabella was looking in earnest at the strangers. "Strange things … have happened. There were occurrences, odd occurrences when she was a little girl. She used to make the lights flicker when she didn't want to take a bath. There were more of them when she was a child, when we first took her in as a baby."

"Took me in? What do you mean?"

Isabella's eyes flitted from her husband to her daughter to the strange man and woman sitting rather too comfortably in her study. She took a deep breath. "Marietta, you're not our … our birth daughter. We found you, shortly after moving here, eleven years ago."

The woman leaned forward, interested, but Marietta didn't notice. "You mean, I'm adopted?" Isabella nodded. "How could you not tell me?"

"We were going to eventually -" began Victor, but Marietta cut him off.

"So you're not my real parents?" Isabella and Victor shook their heads. "And now, these people show up and tell me I'm a … a witch?"

"It's the truth, Marietta. You're a witch, as certain as I'm sitting here. Your parents – that is, Mr. and Mrs. Spiro – wouldn't have known. I was in the same situation as you, years ago. My parents weren't magical, but I was. It was hard to believe, almost impossible, but I promise you that it's the truth."

Marietta stared. Maybe it did make sense. She had blurred memories of the strange incidents her mother had mentioned and more vivid recollections of more recent events that she'd kept private from her parents. The smashed vase hadn't been knocked over on accident; it had mysteriously crashed to the floor when she'd come home from school upset. "Can you … can you prove any of this?" she asked tentatively.

The woman pulled a wooden rod out of her blazer and with a flick of her wrist – the desk turned into a hippopotamus. Marietta squealed with shock and a twinge of delight. Suddenly, the desk was a desk once more. "And that's what magic can do? That's what I can learn at Hogwarts?"

The woman nodded. "I've brought along Professor Longbottom to answer any questions you have about the school. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to your parents alone. Would you care to speak to the professor?"

Usually Marietta would have been insulted and more than a little unwilling to be so obviously asked to leave, but the possibility of seeing more magic was intriguing. She got up quickly and followed the oddly-dressed man from the room. With Marietta gone, the woman turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Spiro.

"I was unaware that Marietta was adopted," she confessed to them. "Usually such things are recognized, but not this time. She is registered as a Muggleborn and although she displays an usual amount of magical ability for such, I am loathe to discriminate on a birth basis." Isabella and Victor thought they followed. "However, if it is true that Marietta is not your daughter, then it is highly likely she is at descended from at least one wizarding parent. Can you tell me anything about the circumstances of Marietta's birth? It would be beneficial to her to know as much about her background as is possible; eleven years ago, our world was in turmoil and her existence could be unknown to most of the members of her family. Family is very important in our world and to many who were involved in the dark times years ago, there is little of it that remains to them. Please, tell me what you know."

Victor began. "We found her in November, on the steps of a church in this town. When no one stepped forward to claim her, the priest encouraged us to keep her. The adoption was made final a few months later. This is a small town; we haven't lived here long in comparison to most of the residents, but we know what it's like. Everyone knows everyone's business and if Marietta's mother or father was from around here, we would have found out."

"It's not unlikely that the mother could have travelled for miles in search of a place to leave her child, especially if she was a witch … although it is strange that a witch would have left her daughter at a Muggle establishment, even a church."

"That's the second time you've used that word … Muggle?"

"It refers to non-magic people, such as yourselves. Not derogatory," the woman hurriedly assured Victor. "I can only surmise that during the chaos of the wizarding world, she found it best to leave her child as far away from magic as she could. Perhaps her family disapproved ... the possibilities are truly endless."

"You talked about Marietta's family." For the first time since her daughter had left the room, Isabella spoke. "That they would not know about her, that they would want to. But we're Marietta's parents. We adopted her, raised her, cared for her. You're not going to take my daughter away!"

"Mrs. Spiro, I understand your concern. I can assure you that I am not here to take Marietta away. I wish the best for all of you. I am merely here to inform you about our world and offer your daughter a place in the best wizarding school in the world, a school where she will be able to grow to her full potential. My recent questions were asked purely out of curiosity; I do not in any way wish to separate you from your daughter."

Isabella breathed a sigh of relief. "You'd best tell us more about this school then," said Victor. "Pigwarts or whatever it is…"

"Hogwarts," Isabella and the woman said in unison.

Two hours and hundreds of questions later, it was settled. Marietta would begin attending Hogwarts in September. The woman – the witch, rather – had explained to Mr. and Mrs. Spiro that a wizarding representative would be in touch to arrange a shopping trip in order to purchase Marietta's school supplies within the month. Professor Longbottom had made quite an impression and the eleven-year-old was already counting the days until September 1.

The witch and wizard waved their goodbyes and stepped outside. As they begin to walk down the path, Professor Longbottom turned to his companion. "Hermione," he asked, "did you notice what I did?"

Hermione Granger nodded. "She's got Harry's eyes."