𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Sparks shot through the air to welcome the new customers to Gambol and Japes Joke Shop. They twirled around them, growing bright, then dim. Eventually, they settled over their pointy hats and burst into multi-coloured sparkles. The new fireworks—branded harmless and risk-free even for the 'youngest of the lot'—came in packs with other non-heat fireworks. Many of which Ji-yoon had never seen before. It had been a fair bit of time since her last visit to Diagon Alley. Though not enough to have forgotten the ways around the shop.

She claimed the aisles had changed, even shifted, to accommodate the many new products over the years. Little did she know her brother had noticed the sly smile playing across her face. The first sign of the approaching storm. Almost literally, as it turned out. A candy floss cloud, fluffy and pink, erupted in a shower of sticky goo when a child, barely seven years old, tried to take a bite. It left a flood of sweet, pink goop everywhere, which took the shop assistant about a minute to vanish.

They carried on their overdue expedition to the 'fireworks corner', by far the most prominent and crowded space in the entire shop. Children ran around in a feat of laughter while setting things off on impulse. There was nothing to be said or done, as most were well under eleven-years-old, not an age when magic was simple to control. That didn't bother Ji-yoon as she reached out to grab a box of exploding Snapdragon Crackers—fun snaps that followed the victim silently to snap at random with great roars as if from a dragon—only to be startled by a cackling skeleton, which was about the size of her hand. It apologised quick enough when a porcelain gnome leapt from the shelf they were in to steal the skeleton's head.

"That's all right," said Ji-yoon, her voice quick and sharp, fearing the mischievous look in its eyes for what it could mean for the stolen head. "It just gave me a little scare. You can return its head now."

The gnome grumbled, but then, with a shrug, gave back the skull, and scurried away, disappearing into the clutter of the shop. With its head back, the skeleton appeared far less content with its previous joke. Ji-yoon brushed it off, grabbing the Snapdragon Crackers and pulling her brother along to their favourite set of non-heat fireworks—arguably the worst section to be in since many went off without explanation—where all the children crowded, unknowingly conjuring whatever to see them in action.

Their father stared at the non-heat fireworks with clear worry, as if the shelves were about to explode in their faces. "Ay, Dios. Maybe we should make this a quick visit."

"There are wizards and witches all around," reasoned their mother. "If something were to happen, this is the best place to be in."

That still didn't appease their worry-stricken father, to which Jin-woo took upon himself to smile and say, "just five minutes, papĂĄ. Please?"

"Oh. All right." Their father huffed, stopping them just as they were about to attend to their plans-for-pranks list. "But I get to have my five minutes at Flourish and Blotts on the way back to The Leaky Cauldron. I've heard they've got really interesting knitting books."

"Promised!" Both twins frantically searched their pockets for the list, neither able to recall who had to bring it or where they had seen it last.

Half a minute later, Ji-yoon finally found it in her robes' inner pocket. The list wasn't all that much, only about four or five different items so far. Ji-yoon had already the Snapdragon Crackers in her hand, leaving nothing more than a pair of Wet-Start Non-Heat Fireworks sets, enough amount of Dungbombs to last another half-term, and a box of Stink Pellets to stun whoever they so desired in case they were found 'vandalising' Number Four's front door.

"You get the Dungbombs, I get the rest," said Ji-yoon, giving her brother no time to do even as much as complain.

An odd pressure crept up to Jin-woo's stomach as he walked up to the secluded Dungbombs shelves. Not for the odour, though that didn't help. Ignoring the sensation in his gut, he halted beside a girl about his age, whose eyes darted around the shop in a way that resembled a Muggle lost in a supermarket. Her long blue robes, which matched the cranberry-coloured details in the scarf she had wrapped around her head and neck, were marred by burn marks and ash. Signs of a pretty close call with one of the many loose fireworks. Surprisingly, she was smiling, and it did nothing but grow into a huge grin when she read the Dungbombs' description.

"Fair warning," he mumbled while taking about half a dozen of them himself, "when you throw them, you've got to run for the hills. If it gets to you, the smell won't wash off for hours."

Instead of a warning, he could have very well encouraged her without knowing, as she dug into a bag she was carrying and pulled out a handful of sickles. "That's part of the fun of it, I imagine." She turned to him right away, hand over her heart and a slight bow, both of which Jin-woo copied in a hurry. "My name's Dalia. Since you're not off at Hogwarts during the term, am I correct in assuming you're new to England too? It'd be great to have a friend who's also new next year, if I'm honest."

"Oh, I'm not exactly new. My grandfather's been homeschooling me ever since my first year. I'm only here because I messed up a potions essay and basically got his Manor's living-room blown up." When she arched her eyebrows, as if asking him to carry on, he just stared perplexed at her until he realised. "My name's Jin-woo, but you can call me Christopher if it's easier for you—it's my second name."

"Was it the Fire Protection Potion, Jin-woo?" Dalia chuckled. "We had a horrible time with that one as well. You can't imagine the state of my Potions class when the hour was over—spurts of ice and flames everywhere. Mrs Jackson had a field day with that. Made us clean everything after class—without magic, may I add—as a 'bonding activity'. It's been three weeks, and I've still got burn marks."

"Your teacher sounds horrid," Jin-woo replied lightly.

Dalia nodded. "Like a banshee
 or a troll's cousin twice removed."

They joked around about past teachers, which Jin-woo could only share stories from his Muggle school years, which Dalia didn't seem to notice. When the pressure building up in his stomach got worse, he seriously contemplated resting or perhaps even stepping outside the shop to catch his breath. He would swear time had slowed down when he spotted an out-of-control firework blazing towards them. Before either could blink, he yelled, "Duck!", and grabbed Dalia's shoulders, pulling her down. A gust of wind whipped past them, swirling into the shelves and detonating a barrage of Dungbombs.

"Protego!"

Jin-woo held Dalia close and tilted his head in confusion, expecting the awful smell from the Dungbombs that had gone off. The thick green mist hung above them, like an invisible barrier had appeared in the quiet air, keeping it from reaching them. They jumped to their feet as soon as the mist cleared, finding themselves staring at a tall, broad woman who looked to be about his mother's age. She wore loose, off-grey robes that matched her big round glasses, which had slipped down nearly to the tip of her nose.

"Nana!" Dalia beamed. "I'm alright." She glanced in Jin-woo's direction and continued, "we're both alright. Gotta say that gave us a fright. But, on the bright side, I've made a friend on my first day!"

'Nana' pushed her spectacles up to the bridge of her nose, her lips twitching briefly. "Miss Dalia, as your guardian in your father's absence, I must discourage all situations in which you are put direct in danger." In a heartbeat, her lips had found their way into a pretty wide smile. "But I hope you had a blast until you almost blew yourselves up."

While Dalia carried on talking to 'Nana', Jin-woo welcomed his sister into his arms just as she rushed to his side, along with their parents. The yell had given them a fright, and the sight of the green mist swirling through the shelves hadn't made it any better. They wanted to go outside—end the day on a questionable good note before something went array again. He pleaded for five more minutes, explaining that he wanted to keep on talking with the girl behind him, hoping to become friends. After all, he knew his sister was right. He couldn't keep a ten-year-old who had no clue about his magical background as his only friend.

Their father grew quiet, way more than he would often, even if he was angry. "No more extra minutes. Exchange addresses with her and arrange to meet up at a safer place another day. We're going for my book to Flourish and Blotts, and after that, we're going straight to The Leaky Cauldron. Noon should be just about any minute now."

"Would you mind if we joined you at Flourish and Blotts?" asked 'Nana,' stepping carefully while wearing an impressively polite smile. "I believe Miss Dalia has grown quite attached to your son, and we owe him a debt of gratitude. He's saved her from serious burns and a dreadful experience. If you could kindly allow us to tag along, we would like to cover any expenses for him while I help Miss Dalia find her new books."

Without missing a beat, their father turned to their mother, who gave him a look as if daring him to deny the offer. "Very well. She may come, but we've got very little time."

"And while we appreciate the kind offer to buy him something," added their mother, "perhaps it might be a bit too much."

"Nonsense," said 'Nana' dismissively. "Our Miss' well-being is of the up-most importance—"

"Nana," Dalia intervened, her cheeks a deep red. "They said it wasn't necessary."

"Anybody would have done the same." Jin-woo shrugged, glancing over at his sister for approval, though the way she wrinkled her nose let him know otherwise. "Bueno, either way, it's not something to be rewarded for."

'Nana' went up ahead with their parents while Dalia joined the twins, using up the opportunity to introduce herself to Ji-yoon on the way outside of the shop. The odd smell of exotic ingredients and the bustling crowd welcomed them back to Diagon Alley. Like everywhere else, Flourish and Blotts was packed with people moving from left to right—ordering and buying books, writing reviews, and, for many in attendance, participating in a young author's book signing for his latest release, 'Break with a Banshee'. The author promised it wasn't fiction; it was a real adventure. However, the author himself seemed as if he couldn't go a day without hair gel.

"I imagine your Iaia's signing is well over by now," said their father, scanning a stack of books high enough to reach the top floor of the building. "They'll be waiting for us at The Leaky Cauldron. Can't say I want to go back—I'm not looking forward to Side-along Apparating back at your grandparents' house."

There wouldn't be a moment 'Nana' wouldn't offer to do or pay for something, and that was certainly not an exception. "Perhaps we could interest you in a flying carriage?"

"No, but we appreciate it," replied their father without beating an eye.

The twins exchanged amused looks at the far corner of Flourish and Blotts, just by the bottom of the stairs, where they sat with Dalia to watch the show unfold. It was amusing, to say the least. Many people flocked around their parents for their mother's presence alone. The constant barrage of criticism was relentless. Either her clothes were wrong, or someone would inevitably bring up her Squib identity, which would lead to snide remarks about her Muggle life and upbringing.

"What nonsense! Muggles are to be highly respected," shouted 'Nana'. "If they were to be shameful, why endorse their creations? Shouldn't we stop using them all-together? Books, ink, quills, paper, and all other Muggle inventions—now, what's left of wizard-kind? A few sparks from a magical twig? Squibs are nothing but people to be admired. To be aware and permitted to live in peace with both worlds—most could only dare to dream."

Both siblings would have given 'Nana' a standing ovation hadn't it been for Dalia's mortified expression. They couldn't decide what was more amusing: the stunned silence that had fallen over everyone, or their mother's chuckle echoing through the room. At least that seemed to make their father regard 'Nana' in a much better light, as he agreed quite promptly to let her help him get a book from quite high up in a pile.

"So, Dalia," begun Ji-yoon, ignoring the dispersing crowd to regain their previous conversation, "you said you're new to England, right? Will you go back to your school or are you staying until the next school year?"

"I wish I could go back, at least to finish my second year," said Dalia. "But my father needs me here, so I'll have to study at the Manor until the next."

"We could exchange letters." Jin-woo dug into his pocket, rummaging for some forgotten paper, or anything really, where he could write his address, but only find his wand. "According to the rules, home-schoolers have to take their end-of-year exams at a place the Ministry selects. We could study together for those—like classmates."

"That'd be nice." Dalia doubted for a moment before carrying on. "I still haven't met my teachers yet and I've heard Hogwarts' classes will be really advanced, so I have no idea what to expect. Don't blame me if I ask for your help one too many times for Charms's class."

He shrugged it off with a laugh. "If you would help me with Potions—"

"Not to brag, but I was the best potions brewer from my class back at Ilvermorny," she said, looking rather smug for someone who wasn't bragging. "Everything's about the ingredients—that's all they always tell you—but it's not
in part. Even with the best ingredients, you can mess up. The thing is knowing when and how to introduce them to the mix."

"Vale, I don't want to interrupt your fun, but maybe we could talk about something everyone can join in on?" Ji-yoon said, her eyes glinting mischievously to accompany her side smirk. "Say, plans to put our Dungbombs in action?"

"There's actually something I'm more curious about. What school are you attending, Ji-yoon?" Dalia asked, then hesitated and glanced back at Jin-woo. "How come you two aren't at the same school?"

Ji-yoon arched her back and put on her best polite smile to answer, "We don't go to the same school because we can't. I'm a Muggle. Bit of a shock for the whole family when we found out he wasn't."

Dalia's eyes went wide with horror. "Oh. I'm sorry
 I didn't think
"

"It's all right," Ji-yoon told her while showing her brother a genuine smile. "Being a Muggle doesn't bother me. I never dared to be petty—couldn't risk losing my best friend." Just when he had taken her hand in his, caressing it fondly, she added, "Besides, he's got to spend his summer holidays studying Muggle subjects. That's enough poetic justice, if you ask me."

"Don't mock my torture," he whined, to which she laughed. "Astronomy is basically wizard science, but dad wouldn't believe me!"

"I can't wait to reach the O. so I can drop that subject," said Dalia. "Merlin knows I could use some Muggle help with it—I've heard their teaching is quite advanced."

Ji-yoon halted, her brow furrowed in surprise, a questioning look on her face. "Well, I'm no teacher or Hogwarts professor, but I wouldn't mind helping."

Five minutes before noon, the twins said their goodbyes to Dalia and hurried to The Leaky Cauldron. Their grandparents sat at a table well away from the fireplaces, about two or three rounds-worth of empty Butterbeers left on the table. That day's edition of The Daily Prophet rested beside Iaia Cruz's fourth morning coffee while she and Avi Antonio skimmed through it. No news worth reporting, per their Iaia's own words. Although, to them, watching Grandpa Seok-jin and Grandma Ha-eun having a pleasant conversation with a notoriously dressed wizard was news enough.

The man, whose fiery red hair seemed oddly familiar to Jin-woo, nodded eagerly. "Fascinating. The Ministry's long overdue on hiring people like your daughter. Merlin knows we need them! We confiscated some rubbery duck-like object only two days ago—I've still got to figure out its original purpose to dictate how it was miss-used!"

"Don't rack your brain, Arthur." Their Grandpa chuckled. "That's just a rubber duck!"

While the man, Arthur, appeared just as baffled as he was before, their Grandma turned to welcome them to the table. "Oh, dear, perhaps you remember Arthur Weasley?"

"Wouldn't dare forget," said their mother while offering a handshake to Mr Weasley. "I've never met anybody more passionate about Muggle objects. It's been too long, Arthur. How's Molly and the children? I wouldn't want to pry, but it strikes me they're not with you. Aren't some of your youngest under the age of eleven?"

"That they are. Two of them, to be exact. Molly's at home with them, going over the requirement-entry subjects." Mr Weasley accepted, shaking their mother's hand eagerly. "I'm here strictly on official business for my Department. We're on our record—seven raids!"

"You must be dreadfully busy!" Their mother exclaimed. "If you ever need some Muggle insight, I'd be delighted to help."

Their father chimed in, running one hand across their mother's back while the other offered Mr Weasley another handshake. "Xavier Muñoz Garcia, Mr Weasley. It's a pleasure to meet you. If you were to have any enquire about the misuse of any Spanish Muggle objects, we pay our owl with only the best of snacks, so do not hesitate to write to us."

"Call me Arthur." Mr Weasley's eyes went wide with glee. "You're a Squib, I presume?"

"Right you are, Arthur." Their father smiled.

"Fascinating," mumbled Mr Weasley, his gaze darting off somewhere. "I should be off. It was a pleasure to see you again."

He disapparated on the spot, leaving the family to catch up on each other's eventful past hour. After a couple more Butterbeers and an increase in the surrounding crowd, they finally packed up and apparated back at the Kim's house. A chorus of barks and hoots filled the air as the animals, eager for their meal, welcomed them back. The twins went off to their room, dragging Jin-woo's heavy trunk along the stairs, while their parents set the table for dinner.

With the trunk fitted at the foot of the bed, they settled onto the bottom bunk, leaning against each other and listening to the distant ticking of the clock. In just a few hours, their lives would return to their regular schedules, leaving them alone once more. Ji-yoon would head off to Spain with their parents to attend Muggle school, while he would stay at their grandparents' house, where he would spend his days studying at the Manor. Without his best friend, Jin-woo was sure even the most entertaining subjects would be a toll to go through. Although he could only imagine how different the rest of his school year would be with his two new friends, one of which would become almost like a classmate.

"We'll be back for Christmas," mumbled Ji-yoon, her head resting peacefully on his shoulder. "Dalia will be company enough, I'm sure. She seems nice, even if a little
 magically restricted. And if you're ever sad, you can write home. Only after setting off Dungbombs to Four's front door, of course. Try not to get any directed at Harry, though."

"I'm not one to set off Dungbombs for no reason," retorted Jin-woo with a brief chuckle. "They've got to earn it."

"It's the Dursleys we're talking about—they earned it long ago." Ji-yoon shifted her head on his shoulder to look up at him. "Let's go down to eat, shall we?"

Jin-woo smiled down at her. "Thought you'd never ask."

The twins sprang up and raced downstairs, skipping the last two steps per usual. There wasn't much they could do to help their parents with the meal—mainly the leftovers from their birthday's supper—yet they did as they were told and sat down to eat. Their grandparents left the television on as nothing more than background sound and chatted the afternoon away.

Their room's clock struck well past midnight before he could quiet his racing mind and catch up with his own thoughts. The familiar pressure around his stomach returned just as his sister fell asleep on the bottom bunk, her head buried in her pillow. Fearing the fireworks situation would repeat, he slid down the ladder to check on their hoard. No loose or accidentally-set-off fireworks.

A flickering spark shot through the air, whirling around him before vanishing with a pop into the hallway. Jin-woo had to blink twice to assure himself he hadn't fallen asleep. It was real enough. Although he couldn't make sense of it, and as tired as he was, the spark came back to fetch him. He didn't hesitate to follow it, leading him directly into the kitchen, just in front of Brownie's chair. A creature sat where the tray of food should have been, its appearance similar to a House Elf, but with a stronger build. It wore a white cloth that had seen better days, by then covered in dirt and grime.

"Who
" Jin-woo glanced over his shoulder, almost positive he had to be in a dream. "Excuse me, who are you?"

"Cookie, sir." Cookie bowed. "Mister named me at an early age, sir."

"All right," he mumbled to himself. "Cookie, I don't wish to be rude, but that's Brownie's chair. They won't like that someone else is occupying it."

"Not to worry, sir," said Cookie. "Not to worry at all. I am what you call a Brownie, sir. But that's just what the wizards call us. We've got names, sir. Back in the grim days, the Masters bestowed them upon us when we were born. I never wished for that—right until Mister was born. He was so lovely, sir. The first to see a Brownie like me in many years."

"Who's that Mister you're talking about?" he asked, stepping closer with dubious confidence. "Do you want me to help you find him?"

"No, sir. Nothing like that." Cookie raised his hand in the air and soon they were holding a dinosaur doughnut. "Brownie's are faithful to their family, sir. Our family. I only wish for Mister's happiness."

"How come it's the first time I've seen you, then?" Jin-woo took a stool and dragged it to Cookie's side. "Do you always spend your nights here all alone? Doesn't it get lonely?"

"That's all right, sir." Cookie shook their head faintly. "Brownie's don't appear when wizards are around—that's why most of my kind live in Muggle houses. They're of a simpler kind to avoid."

"But you're here with me," he reasoned. "If you don't show yourselves to wizards
 why bring me here?"

"I can't say, sir." Cookie clutched their tattered clothes, prompting Jin-woo to make a mental note to buy them some decent ones. "It's not my place to meddle with time. They're of no good temper, sir—you'll see. But I'm afraid something's off, sir. They're enraged. Miss Dalia's mother has fallen gravely ill. More than she should, sir. I fear nothing but life's own elixir will be capable of saving her."

Something crackled upstairs, followed by a set of footsteps that creaked down to the living room. When Jin-woo turned back to Cookie, they had vanished. In the end, his sister found him sitting alone in the dark, mistakenly thinking he had been talking to himself for Merlin knew how long.

"I thought the days of trying to catch Brownie eating the sweets were well past us, Jin-woo," she joked.

He followed her back upstairs, glancing back only for a brief second to see Cookie standing quietly by the fireplace, waving goodnight with a soft smile. "Don't you reckon we've been calling Brownie, well, 'Brownie' for far too long? I mean, it's not like we call House Elves by that title. They've got names."

"Funny." Ji-yoon chuckled. "We used to call them Cookie when we were little."