Chapter 3

The Invitation

KIARA

When Grandmother Sarabi entered the living room, her light brown eyes smiled at me before she took in the muddy footprints I had left on the floor after bringing Crooks inside and the state of the kitchen (I hadn't even started on breakfast, so thank goodness I hadn't turned the stove on!). She then turned her attentions back to me and I saw her disapproving glance, and I could tell I was going to get a few words, and therefore I spoke before she could.

"Please here me out, Grandmother!" I spoke imploringly. "I was about to make a start n breakfast, when I heard the sound of a cat's cried coming from outside. I ignored it at first, thinking that it was a neighbour's cat that had got lost. The car's cries didn't stop, and when I looked out the window, I saw this little guy half-drowning in a puddle!" (After all, what was I supposed to do, just let him drown!?) I held up Crooks. "I dashed outside to help him and brought him here to get him dry and keep him warm. That's why I didn't have time to clean up after myself when you came in, Grandmother. I'm s - "

"Don't apologise," Grandmother Sarabi interrupted, her gaze softening again. "It's completely understandable, given the circumstance, that you would want to help Crooks before taking care of the mess you made." She chuckled, and sat down next to us. "It's lucky when you got him when you did, Kiara, or who knows what would have happened, poor thing ..." she muttered, stroking Crooks behind the ears. She then looked at me, and tried to stifle a laugh as she said, "Well ... it certainly looks like he tried get away from you ..."

I sighed and said, "Do I really look that bad?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," she said, still trying not to laugh, "but I think you need to get yourself cleaned up. Come on." She stood up and held out her hand.

"But what about breakfast? And my muddy footprints?"

"We'll worry about that later. Come on ..." Grandmother Sarabi wiggled her fingers and, smiling at her, I gave her my hands. After she helped me up, I quickly embraced her. Taken aback, Grandmother Sarabi slowly put her arms around me and said, "Whoa! What's brought this on all of a sudden, eh?"

Not wanting to go into details about my dream so soon, I said, "I'm just glad you're back home, Grandmother."

Grandmother Sarabi chuckled slightly, pulled back and said, "I haven't been gone that long, sweety. Now, come on ... let's go clean these cuts of yours." I left Crooks by the fire, where he curled up into a ball, purring contentedly, and followed Grandmother Sarabi to her room.

I remember her room like the back of my hand: it was large and spacious, just like mine was. The walls were amber coloured and the door was painted gold, which was the same colour as the lampshades she had for her ceiling light and her bedside lamp. The floor was hardwood and there was an amber rug on the floor. Her bed was a four-poster one, had many cushions in golds and blues and it had a golden duvet. A bureau was opposite her bed, which was white, with a large mirror attached. On top were pictures of me growing up and my father when he was a boy, the odd pieces of make-up and a few bottles of perfume. Next to the bureau, a bit higher up on the right-hand side of it hung a medicine cabinet.

She shut the door and I sat down on her bed as she went to her medicine cabinet and took out a small bottle of Dittany. She then sat down beside me and said, "This might sting a bit, all right?" I nodded, and she began dabbing. She was right, it stung just a little, but not for too long. I remember it feeling like something warm was healing me.

"Thanks, Grandmother," I said, with a small smile. I looked down at my hands, thinking about the dream (well, what I could remember of it at the time, anyway), and wondered how I would tell her, where would I start. Suddenly, Grandmother Sarabi touched my chin and turned my face up to see hers. I saw worry and concern etched onto her face as she inspected me closely.

"There's something worrying you that you're not telling me, isn't there, sweety?" she asked me. When I didn't answer straight away, she said, "Kiara, I can't help you unless you tell me. I'm here for you, you know that."

She looked at me so earnestly that I had to answer her, so I sighed deeply and said, "Well ... I - I had a bad dream last night ..." When Grandmother Sarabi looked sceptical, I said quickly, "It wasn't an ordinary dream, Grandmother! Zira was in it!"

That caught her attention, so I proceeded to tell her everything that I could remember from the dream: the Absters, the old woman, Zira herself, Zira killing someone, and about her plotting to kill me.. When I had finished, I saw the shock and horror on her face, and before I could turn my face away from her, she enveloped in the warmed, most loving hug she had ever given me. I hugged her back, relishing in the reassurance she gave me.

"Oh, my darling," she murmured into my hair through a slightly strangled voice. "My poor darling ..." she kissed my hair and pulled back, looking at me firmly. "You listen to me, Kiara Pride-Lander! I know you're scared and I completely understand why ... but nothing's happened yet. So, until something does - or you have another dream like this again - you go directly to Crighton, OK? No messing around about it. Do you hear me?" She looked at me pointedly and I nodded. She smiled at me and said, "That's my girl." She kissed my temple and we smiled at each other.

When she mentioned Crighton, it reminded me that she went to see her the night before. "Grandmother Sarabi, why did you go and see Crighton?"

Grandmother Sarabi looked at me mischievously and said, "Ah, well my dear, that is for me to know and you to soon find out!" She tapped me teasingly on the nose. I giggled slightly, before I jumped, as did Grandmother Sarabi, for something big banged on the glass pane of my window judging from the sound.

"I'll go see what that is," I said getting up.

"All right, sweety," said Grandmother Sarabi. "And while you're doing that, I'll take care of your muddy footprints."

I turned back to her, looking surprised. "But I thought I was - ?"

Grandmother Sarabi smiled, got up off her bed, took a few steps towards me and said, "You've had a rough night. I think I should give you some slack. Now go on, go see if you have mail." She winked at me and walked out, leaving me standing there, stunned for a few minutes. When I heard the sound of a pan banging against something, it seemed to jerk me back to reality. I quickly left Grandmother Sarabi's room and walked back to my own. Upon entering it, I got a surprise.

Three owl were waiting outside my window. The first, larger looking of the two was my own snowy owl, Harold, who must have banged into the window. The other two were what appeared to be small, grey feathery tennis balls that were both carrying a letter between them, and were hovering in the air. I saw Harold eyeing them disdainfully. Laughing, I reached across to my window and let them in. The two tiny owls dropped the letter at my feet and went twittering and flying madly round my head, whereas Harold flew next to his cage, and sat there elegantly, watching the other two fluffballs, clearly unimpressed. I laughed again and bent down to get the letter, upon which was Chrissie's handwriting. I tore open the letter and saw a hastily scribbled note.

Kiara - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus South Africa, Monday night. Ma's asked Sarabi to come to ours to discuss the details with her and make sure she's OK with it, but I was too excited not to tell you and decided to send this with Pig and Cat anyway.

I stared at the words "Pig" and "Cat", then looked up at the tiny owls that were zooming around the lampshade on the ceiling. I had never seen anything that looked less like a pig and a cat before (but that was before I understood what that meant). I thought that I had misread Chrissie's handwriting. I went back to the letter:

When Sarabi gets back, find out what she tells you, then send your reply back with Pig and Cat and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. Anyway, Sian's arriving back from her holiday with Ma this afternoon. Perdy's started work - the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Don't mention anything about Abroad if you want to get the pants bored off of you.

See you soon - Chrissie

A warm feeling of happiness surged through me and I quickly flung my door open, dashed downstairs and ran to Grandmother Sarabi. When she heard me coming, she turned round and, before she could do or say anything, I hugged her tightly, saying a bunch of thank yous into her neck. She laughed and stroked my hair. Pulling back, she looked at my glowing face teasingly and said, "Well, what's brought this good mood on all of a sudden?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Grandmother, I know that you know," I said.

Grandmother Sarabi looked mocking shocked at me and said, with a hand over her heart, "Oh, my own granddaughter's got the better of me! How will I ever live it down?"

"Oh, stop teasing me, Grandmother," I said, brushing that aside. "So ... will you let me go?" I asked, feeling nervous about her answer.

I could see Grandmother's eyes getting a mischievous twinkle in them again, but something on my face must have shown my impatience, so she quickly stopped that, sighed, smiled and said, "Yes, you can go to the Quidditch Friendly and stay with the Dawsons for the rest of your summer."

I squealed with delight and hugged her again, saying, "Oh, thank you, Grandmother!" I then kissed her cheek and then ran back to my room, where the tiny owls were still zooming around madly, which I could only assume was pride at having delivered the letter to the right person. I chuckled at the sight of them, shook my head slightly and said, "Calm down, you two! Come here, I need you both to take my answer back."

The owls fluttered down on top of Harold's cage. Harold looked coldly up at them, as though he dared them to come any closer.

I seized my eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and wrote:

Chrissie, it's OK, Grandmother Sarabi says I can come. See you five o'clock tomorrow. Can't wait.

Kiara

I folded this note up and, with immense difficulty, I tied it to the owls' legs as they hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owls were off again; they zoomed out the window and out of sight.

I then turned my attentions to Harold.

"Feeling up for a long journey?" I asked him.

Harold hooted in a dignified sort of way.

"Can you take this to my parents for me?" I said, picking up my letter. "Hang on ... I need to finish it."

I unfolded the parchment again and hastily added a post-script.

If you want to contact me, I'll be at Dawson Manor for the rest of the summer. Mr Dawson's got tickets for the Quidditch Friendly that's happening!

The letter finished, I tied it to Harold's leg; he kept unusually still, as though he was determined to show me how a real post owl should behave.

"I'll be at Chrissie's when you get back, all right?" I told him.

He nipped my finger affectionately and then, with a swooshing noise, spread his enormous wings and soared out of the open window.

I watched him go out of sight, then I shut my bedroom window and, smiling, I dashed back downstairs and to the kitchen, to see if I could sneak a piece of one of the birthday cakes that I had left from my friends before breakfast that morning. Hee-hee!

0000

At five o'clock the next day, I stood by the fireplace with my trunk all packed and Harold's cage with my grandmothers beside me. A weak haze of sunshine lit up the room as the three of us waited for Mr Dawson to come and get me. I remember the feeling of pure excitement that filled me up, as I danced on the balls of my feet, waiting.

About ten minutes later, the tall, slightly large figure of Mr Dawson arrived in the middle of the fire. He was a man in his early forties, who had brown hair that was going grey, blue-grey eyes and a very freckled face. He smiled warmly at us as he stepped out of the grate.

"Kiara!" he said, beaming, as he grasped my hand. "It's good to see you again, my dear girl!"

"It's good to see you too, sir," I said, as Chrissie stepped out of the fireplace. Mr Dawson turned around to face his second child and said in a rather teasing tone, "Ah, good, Chrissie, you did what I said for once?"

"Thanks, Dad," said Chrissie glumly, before she turned to me, grinned and said, "It's good to see you, Kiara! I'm so happy you're coming to stay with us, and - wow!" Chrissie's head turned in all directions, taking in the beauty of my cosy little home. "This place is beautiful!"

"Yes," said Mr Dawson, nodding in agreement, as he looked around. He saw the pictures on top of the fire and said, "Ah, this reminds me of my kids when they were this young." (They were baby pictures of me, if anyone wants to know what he was looking at.)

"Aw, look at the cute little baby!" said Chrissie in a teasing tone, as she held me tight in her arms, grinning cheekily.

"Oh - gerroff, Chrissie!" I said, pulling myself away from her. Chrissie laughed. I rolled my eyes.

"All right, you two," said Mr Dawson firmly, with a slight twinkle in his eyes, "we need to get going now. So, Kiara, why don't you get your - ah, good, I see you have your things together. Good, good, good! All right then, say farewell to your grandmother's, Kiara. Chrissie, can you take Kiara's things back to the Manor for me, please, with the powder you have? Don't worry about me, Chrissie," he said answering her questioning look. "When I'm done here, I'll Apparate back to the Manor. Go on."

"OK, Dad," she said. She grabbed my trunk and Harold's cage, said "Bye," to my grandmothers, who nodded at her. She walked to the fireplace, put Harold's cage down, reached into her pocket and pulled out a little bit of emerald green powder, threw it into the grate, in which emerald green flames immediately burst into life. Chrissie then picked up my trunk and Harold's cage, walked into the flames, said "Dawson Manor!" and the flames swept her up and died. Chrissie was gone.

I turned to Grandmother Sarafina, who smiled and hugged me. She said, "Oh, you be good for us, OK?"

"Grandmother Sarafina, I'm not a kid anymore!" I said, rolling my eyes, but I smiled and said, "Don't worry I will be." We shared another smile and I moved on to Grandmother Sarabi. We hugged and she said, "If you need anything, write to me, you hear?"

"Yes, Grandmother Sarabi," I said. We pulled back and Mr Dawson chucked a bit more Floo powder into the grate for my benefit, and some more emerald green flames burst into life. I walked into them and said, loudly and clearly, "Dawson Manor!"

The last thing I saw before I was swept up by the flames was my grandmothers' beaming faces, before I went spinning around through countless fireplaces, before my feet stood firmly in one of the many grates in Dawson Manor.

0000

The thing about the Quidditch Friendly between Ireland and South Africa taking place in Britain makes no sense, I know, but it's just a plot device for what's going to happen in a few more chapters, so just go with it. Until I update again ...