I Hate This Part

The outside air is warm and sticky, true to Louisiana style. For a summer that was to be abnormally hot, it’s mostly just gross. Our off the shoulder shirts and too-short-for-school shorts that we’d been dying to wear for the last few months, when it was unbearably warm but we were stuck in our dress-coded, principal monitored hallways, are stuck to our legs and backs with a thin veil of sweat only squelched by the occasional breeze.

“You saw the way Blayne was stuttering when he was talking to you, right?” Penny asks her sister, taking another crunching bite of the snow cone she held in her hand. We sit, cross-legged, on the side of the soccer field at the park near my house, where we’d walked to after picking up our first Mr. Freezy’s snow cones of the year. It meant the official kick-off to summer. The start of a new year, one more closer to graduation.

“Like always,” Serena says in response to her twin, and dramatically leans back to lay on the grass, which not yet dying, though it would soon wither and brown. “If he’d just plucked up the courage to ask me out, I would have said yes. But, like always, he chickened out.”

“His voice was shaking so hard you could barely understand him,” I say, defending Blayne. The poor boy, he was cute enough. Serena’s type, for sure, with blue eyes, and blonde hair not quite as light as hers. Why she hadn’t just taken the opportunity to ask him out, instead of being stubborn and waiting for him, I don’t know. “It’s the last day of Freshman year, you’ve got three more years of high school to turn heads.” I spoon a big chunk of wedding cake flavored ice into my mouth and munch on it greedily. The cold is soothing on such a warm day, and the flavor is satisfying. It reminds me of childhood days spent at this very park, skidding my knee on the gravel and begging my dad to push me higher and higher on the swing.

“But that’s so little time, Elle.” She looks at me, raising her eyebrows. “Don’t you want to do everything you can before you graduate? Experience life, before we have to be adults?” I give her an appraising look back.

Serena McAllister, along with her twin Penny, might as well be my sisters. Though our mothers actually are sisters, making us cousins, our parents have all known each other since they were our age - maybe younger, they’re never quite specific when telling us anything - and they moved here together from the UK before I can even remember. We’ve gone to school together, sat in church and Bible study together, and experienced the ups and downs of life as the three kids with the weird accents and strict parents.

“I just want to read as much as I can,” says Penny, picking up her phone and, no doubt, opening whatever e-book she was working on today. Probably something involving Edwardian sensibilities and empire dresses, maybe a little magic. Just the kind of books we liked. “And place in the top ten percent.”

“Like there’s ever been a doubt to that,” Serena snorts, checking her phone as well, though something tells me it’s to look at her Twitter feed, not soak up knowledge. And, like the two of them, I pick up my phone, scrolling through my email inbox. Final grades, read. Harry Potter weekend on ABC Family, read. Forever 21 sale, read. Email from Neville, unread. Smiling, I click on the message.

Elle Bell,

Hope your week is going well, just had a few minutes in the library and thought I would send a message. We’ve got school tourneys going on right now, it’s a mess around here.

Let me know when Aunt B and Uncle Ian plan on me coming - I need to speak to Gran about transportation and all.

Talk to you soon, Nev

My only cousin on my father’s side, Neville, has been pushing to come visit for months now. I finally just talked to my parents weeks before and gotten their approval, though no dates had been finalized. The last time I’d seen him was four summers ago, before we started the sixth grade. He and his dad’s mom, “Aunt Augusta,” as I called her, are pretty freaking weird, to say the least. Neither of them have phones, and Neville only just got an email two summers ago. For us, it’s mostly letters, and we were sort of each other’s pen pals growing up. Serena and Penny used to read his letters over my shoulders, and when he’d come to visit, the four of us would run around the backyard playing tag, or, at least, as much as I could, being perpetually clumsy and unathletic to a fault.

Part of me wishes I was going to him, instead of he to me. The UK has been my dream since I picked up my first Georgia Nicolson Diaries[/] book, and since then all the British TV we've watched, the hours we’ve spent pouring into Harry Potter, despite our parents completely banning anything having to do with magic, or witchcraft, or the supernatural in any way, have widdled their way into my heart, leaving a Union Jack in a place where stars and stripes should be. But Charmed was our addiction, Potter our soul and Twlight the ground which quickly fell from beneath us when we hit high school, and stopped fawning over stupid shiny vampires.

“What’s up?” Serena asks, noticing my silence. I pass her the phone, and she reads over it quickly. “Y’all better get on booking that flight, it’s gonna cost a fortune.” I shrug, scooping up the last of my snow cone before standing to throw away the cup. “I’m all gross,” she says, pulling at her shirt and making a face. Even trying to look ugly, she manages to look gorgeous - her smooth nose crinkled, hazel eyes squinted.

“Let’s head to your place, Elle. We can turn up the AC and watch last night’s Glee,” Penny says happily, and I laugh. It sounds like a good plan to me, singing along to bad covers of chart toppers. We’ve been in choir since elementary school, and music was one of the many ways we loved to let loose. I lock my phone, and let the screensaver come up to check the time. Eight fifty-four is highlighted over a black background, with a simple skeleton key and the word “Alohamora” above the unlock button. My own personal pun, reminding me every time I open my phone of the world I’ve wanted to live in since I first snuck Sorcerer’s Stone in from the library and read it under my covers with the keychain flashlight Aunt Lindsey had brought back for me from a convention.

I help Serena up from her comfortable position and stand, adjusting my shorts and glancing around the park. Children are playing on the playground, running and swinging and sliding down the plastic spirals from ten feet above ground. I notice eyes, abnormally large eyes, looking out from underneath one of the climbing areas, but when I look back, they’re gone, and I shake my head, convincing myself it’s nothing as we start for home. Five minutes passes quickly, with Penny and I avidly discussing the episode of Doctor Who we’d re-watched after school. Serena hasn’t look looked up from her phone the entire walk.

“It’s just so unrealistic that they would have him be so hunky dory about Amy and him traveling around by themselves and-

I don’t get to finish my sentence. Because, as I step off a curb to cross a small suburban street, I manage to trip and fall on my knees, immediately feeling the sting of my skin before I see blood.

Of course. Of course you manage to bang yourself up the first day of summer. So much for shorts with your impending tan legs.

“…but weather or not you yourself think it’s important…”

We hear bits and pieces of a conversation as we walk into my house, and I limp across the threshold, trying to hold a hand to my knee. Penny and Serena both give me a look that says “Who is that?” but my only answer is a shrug. I hear my parents, the soft voices of the McAllisters, and then an unknown voice. He has an accent like my parents, but it sounds older and worn. Almost like my grandpa’s did before he passed a few years back.

“…it is of the utmost importance that you consider the consequences of not coming back. You know what has been foreseen, as do so many-” There’s a pop, and the voice stops, another one, high and nasally, replaces it, muttering something incomprehensible before there’s another pop. “I believe we just received some unexpected visitors.” All five of the adults turn towards the doorway where we stand at the same time, and I can hear Serena and Penny sucking in deep breaths. I’m not sure if it was because they had just been caught sneaking around by their parents, or the fact that there was an Albus Dumbledore impersonator sitting in my living room.

To my parents, I shouldn’t have recognized him. Maybe because we'd been forbidden to read it, but those books were like our drug. While most kids could spew out what had happened on the previous week’s episode of Hannah Montana, Serena, Penny and I were discussing fan fictions and watching the movies, quoting every line. All the while, hiding our boxed set we’d bought together in different closets, under forgotten coats and unwanted winter hats.

So when we walk in, and see some old guy with a long beard and purple robes, two options pop into my head: they're hiring someone as entertainment for my 15th birthday, or one of their friends has turned to secretly LARPing on the weekends and they forgot to tell us.

Either way, I smile briefly before looking at my parents.

“What, are you interviewing actors for my birthday party or something?” All four of the younger adults stare at us with wide eyes, and none of them even smile at my joke.

“I thought you girls were at the park?” My mom’s voice has a questioning tone to it, but Serena answers before me.

“It was hot, and then Elle tripped.” She crosses her arms, and Penny helps me sit on the loveseat near the door. “What’s going on here?” she asks them. There we go. Plain as day, straight forward. That’s my girl. I look back at the weird guy sitting on the couch and see that he’s even got a pair of half-moon glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. I’m tempted to let out a giggle.

“Whoever this is,” I start, pointing towards the man, “he’s sure got impersonating Dumbledore down to a science.” And I seriously shouldn’t have said that. My parents glare at me, my dad giving me a look that says “we’ll talk about this later.” Like I said, they don’t even know I’ve read the series, much less that’s I’ve got a collection of hand made wands stored in a secret compartment under my bed frame.

The man stands up, and extends his hand towards me.

“I don’t believe you’ll remember me. It’s been quite a while since I last saw any of you. My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” I actually do giggle as I shake his hand, and Penny and Serena crack smiles as he does the same to them.

“Albus.” Aunt Lindsey’s voice has a chastising tone to it, and I look over at her, and then back to my mom.

“All right then, you four have had your fun. Who is this, really?” I gesture back at him again, and even yank on the hem of his jacket for added effect. Mom and Dad glare at me a second time and the guy smiles slightly.

“You guys don’t honestly expect us to believe that this is Professor Dumbledore,” Penny says with a slight eye roll.

“He’s fictional,” Serena emphasizes. I look at both of them and nod.

“And besides, what would Albus Dumbledore be doing here, in the middle of nowhere, Louisiana, at our house?” All four adults look as though the have no idea what to say, but I see the weirdo shift out of the corner of my eye.

“I believe some proof is needed in order to ensure that I am who I say I am.”

“You think?” This guy is good. He’s got the slight Scottish accent down, too. But seriously, our parents think we’re that dumb?

“Ask me anything. I can guarantee that I can answer any question you propose.”

“Eleanor, you shouldn’t know anything about this man,” my mom says, using my full name. She only does that when she’s super pissed. Uh-oh. I look at her, and she’s got her arms crossed too. I fold mine tighter, and stand my ground.

“Mom, I’ve been reading those books since we started in Haltom. I know it was wrong, but I did. Now’s not the time.” I look back at the guy and raise an eyebrow. “Ready.”

“I believe the phrase ‘Bring it on’ is quit appropriate for this situation.” I roll my eyes again and questions start popping into my head faster than I can say them.

“Full name?”

“Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore.”

“Hometown?”

“Godric’s Hollow.”

“Siblings?” His eyes shine slightly.

“Aberforth.” I raise an eyebrow. “And Ariana.” I huff, thinking for a second.

“Patronus?”

“Phoenix.” Bam it. He was really good.

“Ok, so you know some stupid trivia,” I say, tossing my hair. “Doesn’t mean you’re a wizard. Magic doesn’t exist. It’s just fiction.” Serena and Penny nod, agreeing with me, and everyone looks to see what the guy has to say. He’s pulling something out of the pocket of what I now realize isn’t a jacket, but a robe. I should have known it was a wand. He points it vaguely in the air and before anyone can say anything, a light blue mist shoots out of the end. Serena, Penny and I stare wide eyed, while the adults seem nothing if not a little pissed off.

The mist floats for a bit before landing in the shape of a wispy phoenix, and before it’s there for ten seconds, it disappears.

“Holy crap,” Penny says. I look at her, and she looks like she’s just been told that her favorite pair of Prada heels at the mall were on sale. I blink a few times, before slowly sitting on the couch behind me. This can not be happening. Albus Dumbledore is a fictional character in a book series. Magic isn’t real. It can’t be. That’s what I’ve been told my entire life. But this….this seems like magic. There were no wires, and no mirrors from what I could see.

Part of me, in my head, wants to be suspicious of this still. The three of us have spent years wanting this world to be real - to be a part of something fantastic, magical. But the fact that it could actually happen? That scared the shit out of me.

“How…how is this possible?” I ask, looking up at him. He smiles meekly and sits back down.

“I assume you three are familiar with the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling?” The three of us nod, avoiding our parents’ glares. “Well, as strange as it may sound, that is the world I come from. That world that you all assume is fiction is in fact, not.”

“But…” Penny looks confused and sits on the arm of the couch next to me. Serena stands next to her. “But if it’s real….” She trails off, obviously as overwhelmed as I am.

“If it’s real, then how come the Ministry allowed JK to write about it?” Serena asks. Dumbledore smiles at her.

“You three know more than I thought. You’re well versed in this whole thing.” He adjusts his glasses. “The Ministry of Magic did try to intervene when Mrs. Rowling first published the books. They used time turners to try and keep her from ever writing, but her premonitions kept coming back.”

“Premonitions?” I ask.

“Maybe we should just start from the beginning,” Uncle Tim proposes. I nod.

“That would be good.”

“Ok,” my mom starts, taking her seat back. “I’m just going to assume you’ve read the entire series?” I nod again.

“Penny and Serena have too.” The both look down to avoid glares.

“So, you three know about the prophecy made about Harry before he was born.”

“Yeah. Didn’t Trelawney predict that?” Serena asks. Dumbledore smiles and nods.

“She did, my dear. But what only a few know is that on that same day, she made another prophecy. A prophecy about a little girl born the same day as her kin, towards the close of the seventh month.” Serena and Penny both look at me, eyebrows raised and wide eyed.

“Wait, me?” I ask, pointing to myself. “She made a prophecy about me?” Dumbledore nods again.

“It said, ‘And there shall be another child. And she shall be the key to the Chosen One prevailing over the Dark Lord. Another child born as the seventh month closes, on the day of her wizarding kin’s birth, who will share knowledge with two allies ’.”

“What, no magic crystal ball?” I ask sarcastically, rubbing my temples to fight the migraine beginning to build in my head.

“Eleanor,” my mom chastises. Dumbledore smiles again.

“There is. I just did not have time to retrieve it from the Hall of Prophecies.” He winks at me, and I can tell that Serena and Penny catch it too. They smile.

“Ok, so keep going.” Dad coughs.

“Well, those prophecies were made a few months before both of you were born. Once we knew that Harry was the Chosen One, once…” He trails off, looking teary eyed. Uncle Tim cuts in.

“Once Lily and James were gone-

“And Alice and Frank,” Aunt Lindsey adds.

“We knew that you were the only possibility for the second prophecy.” Uncle Tim spoke as though he hadn’t talked about it in a long time.

“But I don’t get it,” Penny starts. “The prophecy says ‘wizarding kin.’ Elle’s not a witch, and she sure as hell doesn’t have any wizarding family.” At once, all four adults look down, and I can see them blushing. I see my mother reach for something hidden under her leg, and the next thing I know she’s pointing a wand at my knee and muttering Episkey. The three of us stare, and I will freely admit that the idea of my mother using magic scares me more than it should.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I cross my arms again. “All of you? All of you are wizards?” They all look up and nod, and I roll my eyes. “Well, I guess I should have figured that out from the beginning.” Hesitantly, I run my mind over my wizarding kin. Who shares my birthday?

Le duh.

“Neville’s the other part of the prophecy, right?” Aunt Lindsey and my mother both nod, but my dad is clearly still upset about the entire situation. We’re silent for a moment, before Penny, with her lighting processing speed, asks the question that’s been on my mind since Dumbledore’s patronus soared in front of us.

“If this is real, these books, this world we’ve read about, how do muggles not know? And how have wizards not picked up the book and read about their own lives?"

"That is part of the story,” Dumbledore says. “After Lily and James Potter were killed, your parents knew it was dangerous. In addition to being in the original Order of the Phoenix,” he gestures to all four adults behind him, “Bridget and Ian knew that with you in a prophecy having to do with the Dark Lord, you were all in danger. And after Frank and Alice were hurt, they all decided to relocate here.”

My parents were smiling again, like a fond memory had passed them by, but it was clearly tinged with sadness. My Aunt and Uncle were not something we spoke of often, but when we did, it regularly became a heated discussion in which I was told to leave it alone.

“Once Mrs. Rowling’s books came out, I knew that they weren’t just books. They spoke of our world, of our people. Mrs. Rowling predicted the future. I do not know why or how, but some how she predicted what would happen to the wizarding world.” He pauses again, and then looks me square in the eye.

“Almost a month ago, Mrs. Rowling contacted me saying she had had another prediction. This one of a world not ruled by good, but my evil. Lord Voldemort was never killed, and Harry in stead was captured and slaughtered. And Mrs. Rowling believes that it is because someone was missing from the story. The first time she told it, there was an invisible hand at work. One Mrs. Rowling didn’t see, and therefore didn’t write about. But she’s seen the world without that person, and it’s darker than any of us could imagine.” He still stares, and Penny and Serena gape.

“I’m the guiding hand?” I ask, incredulous. Dumbledore nods, smiling. “So all of that crap happens because of….me?” I ask. “Because I don’t help Harry?”

“We believe that’s correct, Elle.” Dumbledore smiles. “Soon after they were published, I cast a spell over the books. Any wizard or witch, or any person who has knowledge that our world is real, who picks up those books, merely thinks it is the history of the Bathtub.” Leave it to Dumbledore to cast a spell on the entire series. “No magical folk can read it. But because you were raised to believe that our world is purely fiction, you three, along with most Muggles, can still read the books.”

“So if I pick it up now,” Penny starts, “I would just think it was some boring book on the history of the bathtub?”

“Precisely.” Dumbledore adjusts his glasses again. “Now is there anything I’ve forgotten?” He looks back at the parents.

“Uhm…How about why you’re here? It can’t be just to tell us a story. There’s got to be a reason you’re showing up after all these years.” Serena spoke like she knew what she was saying. He looked back at me.

“I’ve come for the reason I told you. The world Mrs. Rowling newly predicted, where many die, friends, foes, bystanders, and where the wizarding race plummets into a time of fear and darkness, even more so than what’s been foretold in the books. As of right now, nothing Mrs. Rowling has said indicates our world is too off track at this point. But she fears that the the darkness will come, unless Elle here comes back to England and helps Mr. Potter”

“But,” I start, “If I’m thinking correctly, Harry’s about to start his fifth year.” I look back at Penny.

“That means that Voldemort is already back. And he’s already killed…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. Cedric has always been Penny’s favorite character. And she thinks Robert Pattinson was unbelievably cute.

“It means that it’s time to start helping,” my mom says, drawing our attention towards the adults. I stare, shocked, and she’s smiling. “It’s time we go back to England. There’s no way around it.” The McAllister’s nod, and Serena and Penny stare at their parents.

“Why didn’t we know before?” Penny asks, again, on the same wavelength as myself and, I assume, her sister. “I mean, with everyone else, every kid, there’s always something…”

“Like Harry and the glass at the zoo,” I finish, understanding what she’s getting at. “We haven’t had anything ‘strange or unexplainable’ happen. Ever. Never mind how much we’ve all wanted it to.”

“That’s partially my fault,” Dumbledore says, glancing at us then our parents. “Before your parents left England, we made the mutual decision that if you three knew of your powers, knew of our world, you’d want to come back. And at the time, we thought it to be too dangerous to even think about.” He pauses. “So your parents asked me to perform a binding spell on you. You magic is stored in my office at Hogwarts, and only I have the ability to give it back to you.” The three of us stare at them in awe and anger.

“You took our powers away?” Serena sneers at our parents.

“It was what we thought was best,” her mother cries, looking like she’s gonna start crying again. I step in, trying to mediate.

“How do we get them back?” I ask, distracting Serena long enough.

“Before the school year starts I will meet with each of you in private and give them back. You won’t be able to use them much, but I have pulled some strings with the Ministry as far as underage magic goes. You three are going to have to catch up-and fast-if you want to be able to keep up with the other students. Not that I think that’s going to be a problem.” He smiles at us, his eyes twinkling and then jerks back, like he’s remembered something, and hands each a white envelope, our names written in a dark, cursive scrawl. The Hogwarts crest is stamped into the seal.

“I almost forgot these. I’m assuming you three already know what to do, but just in case.” His eyes twinkle brightly, and in a blink of an eye, he disappears, leaving Serena, Penny and me to stare blankly. So we’re witches. Not a big deal. It’s something I’ve wanted all my life. It’s so cool. And now we get to shop in Diagon Alley and go to England, and…Oh, who am I kidding? I’m a witch, for Merlin’s sake.