Dear Aden,
Good news: I found my old journal! I wrote you a letter in here the day you were born. If you ever do see it, please forgive my horrifying grammar and spelling. I was only four years old when I wrote that (just a year older than you now!).
I edited the old letter and rewrote it into… well, something better:
"Dear Aden,
Welcome to the family! You were born in the Collingswood hospital at 9:54 AM today, April 17th, 1984. You're really small (only twelve inches!). You weigh six and a half pounds. But the thing that made your birth really interesting is your hair. The second you were born, your hair was black. Dad was really excited that you got his hair, but his smile left when picked you up and your hair instantly turned blonde. He stopped rocking you the second it did, and Phillip gasped. Peter and I stepped closer. Then dad whispered something about how your eyes turned from light brown to piercing green. Mom was too tired to see you change into a mini her; she was asleep on the bed. Peter and I asked dad for an explanation, but he ignored us. He handed you over to Nurse Arrington and asked us to leave the room. We went into the hall and threw our questions at Phillip. He waved his hand for us to stop. Our mouths shut, and Phillip took a breath. "Our sister's a metamorphmagus," he said, but Peter and I didn't know what that was. "Is that some sort of disease?" Peter asked. Phillip laughed, and Peter turned red. "What?" He said hotly (hopefully you don't pick up his temper). Phillip only smiled. "No," he said, "it's a type of wizard or witch that can change their appearance at will." We didn't say anything, so he continued, "It's not anything to be ashamed of. It's wicked, really." But we were still quiet. "So," Phillip talked to himself as he paced back and forth in the hall, "I wonder who she inherited it from?" He turned to us. Peter and I looked at each other, then at Phillip. "What?" We said at once. You could call it twin telepathy, but I'm sure were both just really confused. "Well, it's genetic." Peter sat down on the hallway bench. I leaned against the wall. Phillip was still pacing. After a while, Peter got up and walked back into the room. A few moments later he came out with a few coins in his hand. "Let's go get some ice cream." I got up and started following him, but soon realized that it was only the two of us. "Wait," I said, and turned around. Phillip was still pacing back and forth. "Phillip," I called. He looked up, but shook his head. "You guys go ahead. I'm going to stay here for a while." Peter shrugged, "Well alright," he said, "come on then, Ana." I hesitated, but then hurried down the hall to catch up to Peter.
I'll tell you the rest later, but as of now I'm enjoying a vanilla bean ice cream cone in celebration of you. Happy Birthday!
Your big sister,
Anastasia"
Bad news: Today Hermione told me that she's moving! Her parents have been hired to work at a dental office in Wiltshire. I'm giving her my address so she can send me letters. After all, I don't know where she'll be living, and I can't have Angel delivering mail to muggles. I will miss her terribly. I hope she visits. I hope we can still be friends. I hope you remember her when you're older. Of course, you'll remember how she fed you crackers during snack time, or read you muggle bedtime stories at night. But you won't remember anything about her, like how she's extremely bright and determined, how she always has her nose in a book. Just think of a little Phillip, except a girl with really bushy brown hair. You would've looked up to her (or you might have just been annoyed by her, like Peter). Either way, would've loved her like a sister.
Hold on, someone's walking up to me.
It was Charles Quall. He just came up to me and asked where he could find F. Yeerius's book, "The Ultimate Disguise." I looked at the cart to my left. "Right here," I said, and pulled a thin paper book from the lot. Charles grabbed it from my hands and cheered. He then thanked me and ran to mom's desk. Sometimes I feel bad for muggles. They love reading about all these things they think are "fictional," like mermaids and ghosts and magic. But it's all real: one of Phillip's life goals is to learn mermish and write a book on merpeople, Peter peed his pants the first time he met a ghost in Applegates, and wizards and witches live all over the world.
Poor Charles will never know that. He'll never even know that the changelings in "The Ultimate Disguise" really exist. Except, they're not called changelings. They're called metamorphmagi.
And you're one of them.
Your Non-Metamorphmagus Sister,
Anastasia