IX. I'm Generally Confused About Everything
The first winter snow had arrived. Blankets of snow covered the courtyard and decorated the trees. Squirrels and hares roamed the grounds, and eagles and falcons soared the sky. The candles now smelled like toasted marshmallow instead of pumpkin, and frost decorated the windows. Even the ceiling of the Great Hall was enchanted to masquerade as falling snowflakes. Fred and George had bewitched snowballs to repeatedly hit Quirrell in the back of the head, adding to the cheerful atmosphere. But Draco wasn't in such a pleasant mood.
"I feel so sorry," he said one Potions class, "for all those who have to stay at Hogwarts over the break because they're not wanted at home." He stared at Harry and me, making fake crying faces while Crabbe and Goyle laughed. We painfully ignored them.
A few days ago, I learned we were having a break to go home and see our dear, loving families. Thankfully, we were allowed to stay at Hogwarts if we wanted—or if we had to. When McGonagall brought the Gryffindors a sign-up sheet for who would be spending the break at Hogwarts, I was the first to add my name to the list. Harry was the second. Ron's family was in Romania visiting his brother Charlie, so that meant he and his brothers were staying, too. I wished Hermione would be staying, but I was still excited to spend more time away from the Malfoys, including Draco.
The students weren't the only ones excited for the break. The Hogwarts staff had taken the liberty of decorating the corridors with holly and mistletoe. Wreaths and ribbons lined the walls, all of them red and green. I wasn't sure what the color scheme was about, but I didn't complain. It was visually appealing. The important thing was that the teachers deserved a break: some of them actually worked hard.
After Potions, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I encountered Hagrid lugging a large fir tree around for more decoration. Whoever came up with this aesthetic deserves a raise.
"Need some help there, Hagrid?" Ron offered.
"Trying to make some extra money, Weasel? We all know you're desperate." I didn't even have to look to know it was Draco mocking Ron, backed by Crabbe and Goyle, as usual. "Perhaps you could get a job as gamekeeper—I'm sure Hagrid's hut is a palace compared to what you're used to."
"Could you even come up with that insult on your own, or did you need a house-elf to do it for you?" I snapped in Ron's defense. "You must hate Hogwarts, having no one else to chop up your food."
He grinned. "And you must love it, without Father here to hit you around."
Before I could even process what had been said, Ron had Draco by the collar. "I'll show you hitting around, you son of a—"
"WEASLEY!" Snape came rushing towards us. Ron let go of Draco and put his hands in his pockets, refusing to make eye contact with Snape.
"That'll be five points from Gryffindor," Snape said.
"Malfoy's the one yeh should be takin' points from," Hagrid interjected. "He was insultin'—"
"Fighting is against the rules, Hagrid," Snape chided. "Now, you four better move along before you lose more points." With a dramatic flip of his robes, Snape stormed off. Draco and his henchmen pushed past us, bursting with laughter.
"I'll get him," Ron seethed. "One of these days, I'll get him…"
"I hate them both," Harry said. "Malfoy and Snape."
I have good friends.
"C'mon, cheer up," Hagrid chuckled. "It's nearly Christmas."
"It's nearly what?" I asked.
"Christmas, o' course," Hagrid repeated.
"What's that?"
Everyone stared at me in horror for a solid ten seconds before bursting into laughter.
"That's hilarious, Sadie," Ron said.
"What's hilarious?"
Ron's laughter turned to confusion. "Wait, you weren't serious, were you?"
"Yes...?"
"Yeh heard me, righ'?" Hagrid asked after the long silence. "It's nearly Christmas." He over-articulated the word.
"Yeah, I still don't know what that is," I said with a shrug.
"You know, like the holiday," Harry explained. "The holidays are why we're getting a break: Christmas, Boxing Day, New Year's… you do know what I'm talking about, right?"
I shook my head 'no' with the blankest of expressions on my face.
"It's the one where you decorate a tree, and then Santa comes and gives you presents," Hermione clarified, "but it's actually your parents pretending to be Santa so you can have a happy childhood."
"Who's Santa?" Ron and Hagrid asked.
"Who's Santa?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Don't tell me that's just a Muggle thing."
"Anyways," Hagrid interjected, "Christmas isn't abou' the presents, Hermione. It's abou' spendin' time with the people yeh care about."
"Hagrid's right," Ron said. "It's not about the gifts. But if you wanted to get me some Chocolate Frogs, I wouldn't mind—"
"Ron!" Hagrid shouted.
"Sorry."
"When is it?" I asked.
"December 25th," Harry answered.
December 25th?
That was my least favorite day of the year.
Every year, on that date, the Malfoys would throw some extravagant party and forbid me from coming. Lucius always put a charm on my door to lock me in, leaving me to listen to the music and chatter from inside my room. Even if I was given the option, I wouldn't have gone. I would've hated anyone the Malfoys liked enough to invite. But I just wished they weren't so ashamed of me they felt the need to lock me away.
"Something wrong, Sadie?" Harry asked.
"I was just thinking: the Malfoys always celebrated something on December 25th, but they made me stay in my room, so that could've been—"
"You mean they were hiding Christmas from you?" Harry exclaimed. "And I thought I had a terrible childhood."
Hagrid quickly changed the subject. "Why don't yeh lemme show yeh the Great Hall?"
Carrying the enormous tree, Hagrid led us to the Great Hall. Flitwick met us at the entrance.
"Ah, Hagrid, you must be the last tree—I'll show you where to put it."
As Hagrid and Flitwick moved out of the way, we were greeted with a peculiar but fascinating sight. The hall was lined with over a dozen fir trees, like Hagrid's, decorated with candles and shiny, spherical objects of different colors. I had zero idea what was going on.
"Is this some sort of satanic tree-sacrificing ritual?" I wondered aloud.
Ron laughed. "They're Christmas trees."
"You decorate the tree with ornaments and put presents under it so everyone can open theirs on Christmas Day," Hermione explained. "There was one in the common room."
"That sounds pretty satanic to me," I said under my breath.
Hagrid finished placing his tree and joined us again. "How many days yeh got left till yer holidays?"
"Just today," said Hermione. "Oh, that reminds me—we only have a half hour till lunch; we should get to the library."
"Jus' before the holidays?" Hagrid asked with a chuckle. "Bit keen, are yeh?"
"We've been researching Nicolas Flamel," Harry said. "We haven't found anything yet, though."
"I mean, you could save us the trouble and just tell us who he is," I coaxed.
Hagrid crossed his arms. "I'm sayin' nothin'."
"We'll just have to find out for ourselves, then," Ron said, and we hurried off to the library.
Ever since Hagrid mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we would spend our time combing the library for his name. The name sounded familiar to me, but we couldn't find even a mention of it. We checked our textbooks, the History Section, the Dragon Section, and the Reference Section. Today, we would search the Legal Section. We weren't expecting much.
Hermione and I had a system. She finds books she thinks might help us, and I search the table of contents and index for any mention of Flamel. Harry and Ron just kind of winged it. Lately, Harry had been wondering whether we might find anything in the Restricted Section, but we needed a note signed by a teacher to read a restricted book. If we told a teacher we knew about Flamel, there was a great chance of Snape finding out, and we couldn't risk that. Besides, the Restricted Section contained books on the darkest of the Dark Arts. What teacher would let a first year research that?
Harry tried to sneak into the Restricted Section, but the librarian Madam Pince didn't let anything get past her. We wanted to tell her that we were only trying to find a book about Nicolas Flamel, but we couldn't for fear that it might get around to Snape. So, we had to let her kick Harry out.
By the end of the half hour, we knew no more about Nicolas Flamel than we did before. Ron and I went to join Harry at lunch while Hermione headed for the common rooms to grab her suitcase. After lunch, she and many of the other students would be leaving for the holidays, and I'd be the only Gryffindor girl staying at Hogwarts. But, to be honest, I was starting to miss having a room all to myself.
"Find anything?" Harry asked when Ron and I met him in the Great Hall. Our disappointed faces told him everything.
Hermione joined us, rolling her suitcase with her.
"I see you're packed," Ron said.
"I see you're not," Hermione retorted.
"Mum and Dad are visiting Charlie in Romania, so I'm staying here."
"Good!" Hermione beamed. "Then you can keep looking while I'm gone."
"You could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," Harry suggested.
"I doubt they'd know anything, seeing as they're dentists, but I'll try."
The only thing that was on my mind the rest of the day was Christmas. More specifically, Christmas presents. I had to get Harry, Ron, and Hermione something. They were my first friends. And I couldn't forget Fred and George. They took me to Honeydukes to cheer me up, and didn't even consider the fact that I was Voldemort's daughter. Maybe I could get presents from Honeydukes, with the help of Fred and George, of course. I already knew what I would be getting Ron.
That afternoon, I asked Fred and George if we could go to Honeydukes again, assuring them that I'd bring my own money this time.
"We were going to go tonight anyway, so you can come with us," Fred said.
"Meet us in the common room at midnight," said George.
When we arrived at Honeydukes later that night, I immediately began deciding what to get everyone. Fred struck me as a Pumpkin Pasties guy, and George seemed to like Fizzing Whizzbees. I thought Hermione would like Bertie Bott's Every-Flavored Beans, and she could share those with her family. Chocolate Wands seemed like a good fit for Harry. And Ron had hinted that he wanted Chocolate Frogs, so I took a box from the shelf. Above the boxes were a display of the most popular Chocolate Frog cards. One in particular caught my eye: Albus Dumbledore.
Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.
Nicolas Flamel! I knew that name sounded familiar!
We hadn't looked at any alchemy books in the library yet. I promised myself I would do that first thing tomorrow; surely I could find something about Nicolas Flamel.
The next afternoon, I ran straight to the boy's dormitory to announce my findings. My knocking was answered by Ron, who was still in his pajamas.
"We're trying to sleep, Sadie."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, I know it's only 2:00 P.M., and I'm not a morning person either, but this is important."
Harry came up to the door with disheveled hair. "This better be good."
"It is," I assured them. "I found something on Nicolas Flamel!"
"It's the holidays," Ron grumbled. "Can't we take a break from this?"
"But we promised Hermione we'd look while she's gone!" I said.
"Fine," Ron groaned. "What is it?"
"He was Dumbledore's partner in alchemy! It was on his Chocolate Frog card!" No reaction. "Come on, isn't that exciting?"
"Not as exciting as the dream I was having."
I sighed. "Why don't you two get dressed and we can go look in the library?"
"You can do that," Harry said. "We're going back to bed." The door slammed in my face.
"If you won't look, then I will!" I shouted through the wall.
"Fine by us!" came a shout from Ron.
I stormed off and headed for the library, only to encounter Dumbledore in the corridor.
"What are you doing out this early?" he inquired.
"What are you doing out this early?" I answered reflexively. He raised an eyebrow at me, as if to say I was testing his patience. "Sorry, Professor. Actually, I was wondering if you could tell me about Nicolas Flamel?"
"Might I ask why?'
"I, um, saw it on your Chocolate Frog card and I was… intrigued," I lied.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Nicolas remains as much a mystery to me as he does you, I'm afraid," he said. "Apart from our dabbles in alchemy, I know little about him. Even if I did know the details of his personal life, they aren't mine to share."
Now I really was intrigued. "'Dabbles in alchemy'?"
"Well, I'm sure you know I discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood since you've been studying my Chocolate Frog card so carefully," he explained with a hint of suspicion. "Nicolas helped me in that endeavour. Afterwards, he left to pursue… other things."
"Such as…?"
"I'm afraid I don't know," Dumbledore said.
"That's okay," I said. "Thanks anyways." With that, I continued my journey to the library.
No offense to Dumbledore, but I was nine hundred percent "I don't know" was code for "I can't say." There was something he knew that he didn't want me finding out.
Despite my lack of help from Dumbledore, my hopes were high for what I might discover in the library. I went to the Reference Section, which was where most academic books were located. Each book was organized into a subject, and each subject was placed in alphabetical order. Alchemy was on the first shelf. There were no books with "Nicholas Flamel" in the title, so I found the most general books I could: Advanced Alchemy; Alchemy for Beginners; A History of Alchemy; and The World's Most Influential Alchemists and began my search. My heart sank when I discovered that not one of the blurbs, tables of contents, or indexes showed any mention of Flamel. I flipped through them, skimming some pages, but to no avail. Not even The World's Most Influential Alchemists. He seemed to be erased from history.
I was returning the books to their shelf when I was met with a horrendous sight: Snape.
"Now what might you be doing in the library on break, Silverwood?" He grimaced as he said my name.
"Well, you see, I was bored, and, um, when you're bored, you look for things to do, so I, um, came to the library to find a good book to read." Was that really the best I could come up with? Merlin, I was going to get expelled.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "So you looked in the Reference Section?"
"Um… yes." I nodded with overdone enthusiasm. "I mean, um, the Reference Section is the epitome of literature! Doesn't, um…" I glanced at the book in my hand, "Alchemy for Beginners look like a thrilling read?" Snape's unamused face showed he did not have the same excitement about the book as I did. "I mean, look at this cover!" I showcased the book, which depicted a vial surrounded by illustrations of fire, water, earth, and air. "Such a wonderful painting… what a tasteful ombré of blue they used for the water—"
"How about this, Silverwood," Snape interjected, once again saying my name with disgust. "You get out of the library, and I'll take ten points from Gryffindor and pretend like this never happened."
"Ten?!"
"Five because you're up to something," Snape accused, "and five because I don't like you."
"That's…" I stopped myself before I said something I regret. "That's fair." I put Alchemy for Beginners back on the shelf and hurried out of the library.
I returned to the common room to find Harry and Ron devouring sweets.
"Find anything?" Harry asked me.
"Nope. But Snape knows I was up to something."
"What?!" Harry and Ron shouted in unison.
"He saw me in the library and asked what I was doing," I explained. "I came up with a story, but I don't think he bought it."
"What was your story?" Harry inquired.
"That I was reading Alchemy for Beginners for fun."
Ron frowned. "No one would have bought that."
"Yeah, thanks a lot," Harry grimaced. "You just ruined Christmas."
"Maybe if you had helped you could've come up with something for me." I huffed and went to the girls' dorm to write to Hermione about my discovery (and lack of discovery). One cringeworthy letter later, I set off for the owlery with the letter and candy from Honeydukes. Fred said they were wrapping presents there. A kind house-elf wrapped the candy in strange red and green paper, a color scheme I still didn't understand, while I rolled up the parchment and tied it with a ribbon. I made a small note on Hermione's letter to put the tan jellybeans in a jar and give them to someone she hates.
On Christmas Eve, Harry, Ron, and I stayed up late playing wizard chess and drinking hot chocolate. Outside, snow decorated the castle grounds, covering the lake in a shiny layer of ice. But the three of us stayed warm by the crackling fire, sharing this perfect night with each other. I wished it would last forever, but the clock ticked nevertheless.
Harry and Ron didn't want me to spend Christmas Eve alone, so they let me sleep in their room that night. The boys fell fast asleep, but I dreaded Christmas Day too much to sleep soundly. The next morning, I would wake up to find myself presentless. Like Hagrid said, it's not about the presents. But then again, I knew Draco would receive no less than sixteen packages filled with whatever Richie McRichsters back home could find.
The next morning, I woke up to someone shaking me incessantly. I rolled over to see it was Harry. "Wake up, we have presents to open!"
"And fix your hair," Ron added. "You look a mess."
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, painfully running my fingers through my hair. "I've been trying to fix it for the past eleven years."
The sight that greeted me filled me with envy. Harry had six presents stacked by his bed, and Ron had at least three times that many. My heart sank as I looked down at my own bedpost (well, Dean's bedpost) to find three. It was more than I expected, but I still felt crushed that only three people wanted to give me something.
The first was tied with a golden ribbon, with a tag taped to it that read: "To Sadie, From Hermione." The paper was red and green, as was everything else in this godforsaken holiday. I was still getting satanic vibes.
I ripped open the wrapping paper to find a box of chocolates named "Cadbury Milk Tray." I bit into a spherical piece of chocolate to taste a delicious, gooey toffee filling.
"Oh, thanks, Sadie!" I heard Ron say. I turned to see him holding a box of Chocolate Frogs.
"I didn't think you'd mind," I joked.
"Yeah, thanks," Harry said, gesturing towards his Chocolate Wands. "Where'd you get these?"
"Does Hogwarts have a gift shop I don't know about?" Ron inquired.
"Of sorts, yes," I said. I didn't want to share Fred and George's secret.
Harry pulled two small, silver, circle-shaped items out of a package. "That's friendly," he commented.
"What are those?" I asked.
"They're fifty-pence coins," he explained. "My aunt and uncle sent them. They never really get me much, but at least they told me what Christmas was."
"Fascinating!" Ron exclaimed, taking one out of Harry's hand.
"Those must be worth so much!" I said, taking the other. I didn't know what a "pence" was, but there were fifty of them, and that must be a lot.
Harry grimaced, but quickly turned it into a smile. "Sure they are. You can keep them, if you like."
"Thanks!" Ron and I each pocketed the coins.
Next, I picked up a rectangular package whose tag said it was from Fred and George, and opened it to find a box of treacle fudge. They knew me too well.
I picked up the last present, a lumpy package tied with a brown string. To my surprise, Harry had one of his own. I could easily tell it was clothes, but I couldn't tell who it was from. I had five friends. That didn't leave many options.
"Oh, I know what those are," Ron grumbled, eyeing our packages. "I told my mum you guys weren't expecting any presents, and well… I think she's made you a Weasley sweater."
Harry and I stared back, baffled. "A what?"
"Every Christmas, mum knits everyone in her family a sweater. It's a Weasley tradition."
She knits everyone in her family a sweater? And she included me?
"But she hasn't even met me," I said. "And I thought she didn't like me anyway."
Ron sighed. "Mum's kind of a Christmas fanatic. Reckon she'd even send Snape some fudge if she found out he had no presents."
I beamed as I ripped open the package to find a container of fudge and a purple sweater with a black S sewed onto it. Delighted, I immediately put it on over my t-shirt. It brought more warmth than the fireplace crackling in the common room, or the hot chocolate we drank the night before. I loved it.
"It brings out your eyes," said Harry, who was wearing his own emerald green sweater.
"Yeah, you too," I teased back.
"I always get maroon," Ron said, holding up his Weasley sweater in disgust. "I hate maroon."
Harry still had one more present to open. "Wonder who this is from," he puzzled, pulling silky, grey robes from the package. The fabric seemed to be glittering, like light reflecting off of water. I knew exactly what it was. It was a cloak, but a very special kind of cloak.
"Is that what I think it is?" I blurted.
"Depends on what you think it is," Harry said, oblivious.
"Put it on and let's see."
Harry tied the cloak around his neck. Ron and I gasped as his body disappeared into thin air.
"I knew it!" I exclaimed. "It's an Invisibility Cloak!"
"How can you tell?" Harry asked.
"Well, the fact that your head is floating in midair kinda gave it away."
Harry looked downward to see that his body had, in fact, disappeared. He gasped and threw the cloak off of himself. Relieved to see he was whole again, he sighed and fell backwards onto his bed.
"Who gave you that?" Ron asked with excitement. "They're supposed to be really rare. I mean, some people don't even think they exist."
"I'm not sure," Harry said, picking up the cloak and examining it, causing a piece of parchment to fall out without him noticing.
"Look, Harry, there's a note!" Ron said. Harry seized the paper and turned away from us, then folded it back up and put it in his pocket. I doubt he wanted us to see it.
Suddenly, the dormitory door burst open and Fred and George came barging through, yelling "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" They were both wearing blue sweaters, one with a yellow F and the other a G.
"Why aren't you wearing your sweater, Ron?" George reprimanded. "Even Harry and Sadie have theirs on!"
"It's maroon again," Ron grimaced, pulling his sweater over his head. "She didn't even put a letter on it this year."
"Well, she makes more of an effort if you're not family," George said, glancing between Harry's sweater and mine. "I suppose she doesn't think you forget your name. But we're not stupid, we know we're called Gred and Forge."
"That we are," Fred confirmed. "Oh, and thanks for the Pumpkin Pasties, Sadie."
"And the Whizzbees," George added.
"I can't believe we bought presents right in front of each other," I said.
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.
Fred shunned Ron with his hand. "Hush, Ronald, the grownups are talking."
At that moment, another Weasley burst into the room. "What's all this noise?" It was, of course, Percy, who was carrying a sweater on his arm.
"We're celebrating," Fred said as if he were speaking to a three-year-old. "I know it's a new concept to you."
Percy gritted his teeth in agitation. "I know what celebrating is."
"Then cheer up and put your sweater on!" George said.
"Look, it has a P for Prefect and everything!" Fred joked. He and George forced the sweater over Percy's head, leaving the latter with crooked glasses and a murderous glint in his eye.
"You do know girls aren't allowed in the boys' dormitory, don't you?" Percy adjusted his glasses. "I'll have to give you three detention—"
"Actually, they are," I corrected. "If a boy tries to go into the girls' dormitory, the staircase turns into a slide, right? But it doesn't work the other way around because the founders trusted girls more than they did boys. This really isn't something a first year should be educating a Prefect on."
"Yeah, Percy," Fred said.
"If you're going to threaten her, do it properly," George chided. "Still hope you two weren't having too much fun, though." He winked at Harry and Ron. I threw a pillow at him.
That evening, we had the biggest feast I'd ever seen in my life (and that's saying a lot). There were hundreds of turkeys, country hams, rolls, cobs of corn, yorkshire pudding, and potatoes served in every possible way you can serve potatoes. Afterwards came pies and cobblers in every flavor, puddings, and ice cream. I ate way too much tollhouse pie, but hey, that's what life's about, right? Making bad decisions that seem reasonable at the time and then regretting them later.
By the end of the day, I was too tired and full of food to do much of anything. Ron and I crashed the minute we went to bed.
By the next morning, Harry had already had plenty of adventures with his Invisibility Cloak.
"So, I was going to go to the Restricted Section to look for Flamel," he explained, barely able to hold his excitement in, "but Filch and Snape knew I was there—I mean, they couldn't see me, but a book screamed at me and they heard it—anyways, I was running away from them, and I found this hidden room! And there was a mirror there, so I looked into it, because that's what mirrors are for—and my parents were there in the mirror!"
"That's amazing!" I said.
"You should've woken us up," Ron whined. "I want to see your parents."
"We can go tonight," Harry said, "and you guys might see your families in the mirror!"
"I'm not sure I want to see my family," I pointed out, looking down at my feet.
"Then you don't have to look. Just come with us." Harry looked at me hopefully, but I didn't answer. "Please?"
"Fine," I conceded.
The cloak covered all three of us, and could've fit in Hermione, too. Still, it took some coordination to walk together without stepping on each other's toes. But the real test was finding the mirror again. We tried to retrace Harry's steps from the library, but it was hard since he wasn't thinking about where he was going the night before. The corridors only seemed to get darker and colder, and the minutes only seemed to get longer. But right when we were going to give up our search, we found the door next to a suit of armor that, thankfully, Harry remembered vividly.
Harry pushed the door open to reveal a large, open space with desks and chairs strewn against the wall. The center of the room was empty, except for a tall, glimmering mirror towering over us. Nothing about this seemed right.
"Here, let me stand in front of it," Harry said, throwing the Invisibility Cloak off of us. He walked up to the mirror and stared at his reflection, a longing smile forming on his face. "Don't you see them? My parents?"
Ron and I exchanged confused glances before both shaking our heads.
"What?" Harry exclaimed in disbelief. "They're there, I promise—"
"We believe you, Harry," I said. "We just don't see it."
Harry . "Ron, you try."
Ron stepped in front of the mirror, and soon enough, a smile was on his face, too.
"Do you see your family?" Harry asked.
"No, it's just me," Ron answered. "But I'm older, and I'm Head Boy! And Quidditch Captain!"
"You are?"
"Yeah, I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to, and I'm holding the Quidditch Cup, too!" Ron tore his eyes from the mirror at last. "Maybe it shows us the future!"
"That's impossible," Harry said. "My parents are dead. Sadie, you should try."
"No, I'm good," I refused. This was all a bit unsettling.
"C'mon, I doubt you'll see your family," Ron assured. "I didn't."
"I'm not sacrificing my soul to the creepy mirror."
"You can't sacrifice something you don't have," Harry sassed, challenging me.
I glared at him for a long time before finally muttering "touché." I stepped up to the mirror.
Nothing happened.
I saw my reflection in the mirror, but nothing beside it. No family, no Quidditch Cup, nothing. Just a standard eleven-year-old girl. There was only one small, but major, difference.
My eyes were brown.