It was a perfect early summer morning. The sun had risen smooth and red just in time for Ignatius's morning jog around the neighborhood, and now it had faded to yellow and was already climbing into the sky. Ignatius paused to watch its path, smiling a little. He was one of the luckiest men in Britain, here on this beautiful morning with the sun and his wife and their two lovely daughters.

On his way back into the house he grabbed the pile of mail, shuffled into the kitchen, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Audrey was already up and reading a book, and so was Molly, who was in the backyard examining a snail. She was probably making up a story about it. Ignatius didn't always understand his younger daughter, who loved telling stories and had a creative streak a mile wide. Lucy was much more like him in temperament.

"Anything interesting in the mail, love?" Audrey asked.

"Let's see. The electric bill, letter from a charity asking for more money, card from your aunt Cheryl, letter for Lucy—letter for Lucy?" He knew what it was before he even read the words, he knew just by the feel of the thick parchment in his hand. Wizard parchment. "Oh no. Oh no no no. It's her Hogwarts letter!"

"Hogwarts letter? Oh. Wizard school." Audrey sat forward and held out her hand. "May I read it?"

Ignatius nodded and passed it to her. "I know what it'll say. Oh, I can't believe I let this sneak up on me! I kept kicking that can down the road and now here I am with a Hogwarts letter on the table and no idea what I'll do! How did this sneak up on me?!"

"Calm down for just a minute, 'Natius." Audrey said. "I'm still reading. Oh, she has until July thirty-first to send a reply. We have time to decide." She looked up at him. "So, I guess we'll have to decide whether we want to send Lucy away to wizard school."

Ignatius nodded. "I've told you about Hogwarts. It's the one I went to."

"And we talked about whether or not we wanted to send the girls there." Audrey continued. "We talked in circles for a while, but never decided anything."

"So now we've got to figure this out. Argh, I kept postponing that decision!"

Audrey frowned at the envelope. "They really don't give us a lot of information to go off of. What if we were both muggles and just got this letter like this, no warning?"

"I don't feel good about Hogwarts." Ignatius said. "Because of my own history with the wizarding world and with Hogwarts, I really don't feel good about sending her there."

"Well, do we have any options other than Hogwarts? I know you're apprehensive about it because of your baggage with all things wizarding, but the girls do have to be educated. Do we have options besides Hogwarts?"

"Well, not a lot." Ignatius said. "It's the only magical school in Britain. Some wizards are educated at home, and then some are sent to schools in other countries. Durmstrang, in Norway, attracts a large international student body—there was a Bulgarian quidditch star who went there, and I know some British parents strongly consider it too. Beauxbatons is good too, but it's in France and there's more of a language barrier with that one. Then there's Ilvermorny in America, but we're not sending her there. I can't stand Americans. I'd die if she came home with an American accent."

"We're not sending her to another country." Audrey said. "We either send her to Hogwarts, or we think about keeping her at home."

"Keep her at home then." Ignatius said.

"Why? It's perfectly normal; even muggles go to boarding schools."

"It's not that. I'm worried if she goes there, there's a chance she'll run into my father. You know, the one who told me that his life would be better if I was dead. That's the reason I cut contact, remember? I don't want you or the girls around someone like that."

"Ignatius, I understand why you don't speak with your father." Audrey said. "But I think the odds of Lucy running into an old man in a children's school are slim to none."

"It's not that!" Ignatius said. "What if my brother George has children? Then there's a chance my father would be at Diagon Alley, at the platform to see them off, at family events at the school." He shuddered at the thought. "We can't risk it."

"You haven't been in contact with your brother George either?"

"Audrey, are you forgetting that George told me he wished I was dead instead of Fred, and then my father backed him up? No, I haven't spoken to him!" Ignatius shuddered. If George—or any of his siblings—had school-aged children, then there were too many possible ways Lucy could see his family. And in a family this size, it was almost certain that Lucy had at least one cousin at Hogwarts.

"How big is the school?" Audrey asked. "If it's a big enough school, it's possible that they would never see each other. Also, you don't even know for sure that George does have children! It's irresponsible to base such a big decision around a hypothetical."

Ignatius nodded. If only he'd been truthful with Audrey from the beginning about the size of his family, then maybe he could impress on her the true number of Weasleys that were probably buying books in Diagon Alley this very moment, the true danger Lucy was in. But he'd lied, and now here he was repenting for it. He silently cursed his past self. "All right, then. Let's discuss a non-hypothetical. The other thing I'm worried about is her safety. Hogwarts . . . Hogwarts plays it pretty loose with safety. There's a lot of unregulated magical creatures there, like dragons, three-headed dogs, and a giant snake. I've seen some kids with pretty nasty dragon injuries in my time. Burns, and then my brother got bitten by one and his hand swelled up, turned green . . . it was awful. I knew a girl who got petrified by a giant snake."

"Were they able to fix it?"

"Yes, eventually. The staff didn't do anything about the snake, either, until a twelve-year-old girl figured it out. Good thing she did, because an eleven-year-old girl almost died in a snake-related incident, and all the professors were holed up in the staff lounge crying about it!" Ignatius took a deep breath to steady himself. It had been years and he no longer talked to Ginny, but the memory of her almost dying in the Chamber of Secrets still rattled him.

"That's not even the half of it," he continued. "I saw so many horrific sports injuries. That's why I never let the girls have brooms! A kid fell off his broom one time and ended up in the hospital wing unconscious! And don't even get me started on the time a kid broke his arm playing quidditch, and then the professor, who was supposed to be responsible for students' safety, accidentally removed all the bones instead because he was so inept!"

Audrey gasped. "Were they able to fix the bones?"

"Yes, but it took a night in the hospital wing to do it. Magic isn't perfect and it was a painful process, from what I heard. That professor who did the removing was so bad at magic that he accidentally wiped his own memory at the end of the year." He sighed. He knew his wife well and could tell he was beginning to win her over.

"Who was this man? Why was he working there?"

"Hogwarts has some trouble hiring qualified professors. That year I think the headmaster just hired the only candidate who applied for the job. He had to hire another one the year after, obviously, to fill the vacancy. That one turned out to be a werewolf. So then they had to hire a new one after that when word got out that he was a werewolf."

Audrey gasped. "As a teacher myself, that is a red flag. Any school that struggles to hire and retain qualified staff is not a good school. A werewolf! Perhaps we should take a closer look at homeschooling."

Ignatius nodded. "I know I would be less stressed. We'll think about it." Inwardly he smiled at knowing that Audrey was beginning to see things from his point of view. Deep down he knew he wasn't being fair to Hogwarts, considering that the defense position was cursed, and that he certainly wasn't being fair to Remus Lupin, may he rest in peace. But Audrey wouldn't know any better, and little fudging of the truth was all right if it meant keeping Lucy safe.

"It might mean sacrifices on our part, if this is going to work." Audrey said. "But the werewolf . . . the dragon injuries . . . oh, I don't want my little girl exposed to all that."

"I haven't even mentioned the dementors yet." Ignatius said.

"What are those?"

"Don't ask. You're better off not knowing. So, homeschooling?"

Audrey shuddered again. "I suppose so."

"Did I tell you about the time an escaped convict broke into a student dormitory and threatened a thirteen-year-old at knifepoint?"

"Ok, ok, you've made your point!" Audrey shrieked. "Homeschooling it is."

"Perfect." Ignatius smiled wide, ignoring that little twinge inside. Conscious, or maybe was Percy, was screaming somewhere from the back of his mind that he'd convinced Audrey to do this by fudging the truth and setting the werewolf rights movement back several decades. But Ignatius didn't care. He'd managed to keep his little girl safe, without divulging any of his secrets. "Homeschooling it is."

Audrey sighed and glanced over the letter again. "Now we just need to tell Lucy."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Lucy Hope Prewett sat at on her bed in her room, unaware of what was taking place downstairs. She was eleven years old, with long red hair and freckles like her dad's, but everyone said she looked more like her mum. She supposed that was because her only living family were her mum's side. Her dad's parents were dead, and every so often her dad would bring up her one living uncle, only to then amend that they did not speak to this living uncle. So Lucy had no idea what her dad's family was like. She'd never even seen a picture of him as a kid.

"Lucy!" A knock sounded at her door. "Are you up? Are you dressed?"

"Yeah." Lucy put her book aside and opened the door, finding both her parents outside. "What's going on? It's not my last maths test, is it? I only missed three questions. I don't need to study it again."

"No, it's not that." Dad opened the door, carrying an envelope. "We need to talk to you about something." Both her parents entered and sat down on the bed. "So you know that you're a witch, right?" Dad began.

"Yes. You've told me about it several times."

"And you know that witches and wizards usually attend magic school?"

Lucy nodded excitedly. She didn't know a lot about wizard school—her dad had only told her bits and pieces—but she was excited. She'd get to meet other young witches and wizards, finally get her own wand, maybe even play the wizard sport, quidditch. She and her sister weren't even allowed brooms at home because Dad always said it was too dangerous.

"So, it's almost time to send you to magical school." Dad said. "Your mother and I have been thinking about it carefully. We're not sure it's a good idea for you to go off to school."

"What do you mean?" Lucy could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"Well, wizarding school isn't exactly safe. When I was there, I knew a boy who got a broken arm. There was a professor who was supposed to repair his bones, but he removed the bones instead."

"I'll be careful." Lucy said. "I won't get a bone broken, then." She'd never had a broken bone or even stitches before.

Dad shook his head. "It's not just that. There were so many horrible things that happened when I went to school. There was a giant snake that petrified people. It took a girl your age down to its secret lair and almost killed her. There were dragons on campus once."

"Dragons?"

"Dragons. And the escaped convict who tried to kill a kid, and the dementors—don't ask about the dementors. I know you're disappointed, Lucy. But we think you staying home is best for you."

"But I don't want to stay home!" Lucy pulled at his sleeve, desperate to make him understand. "I don't want to stay home, I want to go to school! You kept telling me about wizard school and—"

"Lucy." Mum's voice was gentle but firm. "Your father and I talked about this. It's for the best."

"No—no!" Lucy jumped up. "No, I don't want to stay home! I'll be careful, I promise! I'll stay away from the dragons and dementors! I'll be careful, please, let me go!"

"Lucy." Dad had stood up, and he was giving her The Look. "Lucy. I know you're disappointed. Your mother and I are doing what is best. This is for your safety. It's because I love you. You are my little girl, and it is my job to keep you safe. I love you too much to expose you to all the dangers of wizard school. Understand?"

Lucy nodded grudgingly. Dad used that argument a lot—I love you too much to let you hurt yourself on a broom, I love you too much to let you play with Heather down the street because she's bad news, I love you too much to let you get hurt playing rugby. It was hard to argue with Dad when he used that argument. She turned to Mum, pleadingly, but Mum shook her head.

"It's not happening. Your father made it clear to me how dangerous this was."

Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes. Mum wasn't magic, so she'd had to listen to Dad the whole time. She would agree with him. "Please?"

Mum shook her head. "It's not happening, Lu."

"Please?"

"It'll be fun." Dad said. He that look on his face that meant it would be fun for him but not for anyone else. "We'll send in an order for all your spell books and a wand. By Christmas you'll be able to unlock doors and make objects float. It'll be fun, Lucy, you'll see."