A Witch Without a Wand

Olivia Weasley was having a wonderful dream.

She was on a broomstick, soaring high in the sky. The sun was warm against her cheeks and the wind swept through her hair. She thought of the Muggles looking up at her, thinking she was just a bird, much in the same way that whenever she looked down they looked like nothing more than insects.

She pulled out a wand that fit perfectly in the palm of her hand and gave it a swish. Immediately following the clouds around her began to morph into the shape of a giant hippopotamus. She gave her wand another swish and the hippopotamus began to dance. On her broomstick Olivia began to sway back and forth and circle around the dancing hippopotamus. Olivia felt so powerful, so carefree. Nothing could dampen her happiness.

“Olivia!” The hippopotamus opened its mouth and screamed her name. Olivia looked at her new cloud-friend in horror as it darkened into a rain cloud. Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Olivia!” the cloud screamed again. This time the cloud-hippopotamus swung a giant hand at her, knocking her off her broom.

Olivia grabbed onto the broomstick in time, but the wand slipped from her hand. She watched helplessly as it fell to the earth below.

Her grip was growing weaker, and the hippopotamus took another swing at her. Olivia couldn’t hand on. She fell off the broomstick and fell towards the ground…

Olivia woke up with a start. Her heart was racing and she looked around. Instead of free-falling from thousands of feet in the air she was safe in her bed.

Suddenly a flame appeared in the lamp hanging from her ceiling and the room was bathed in unnatural light. Olivia grimaced and shielded her eyes. She could hardly make out the figure of her mother standing in the doorway holding her wand in the air.

“How many times do I have to call your name? Now get out of bed. We are leaving in fifteen minutes. You need to be downstairs by the car with your trunk in fifteen minutes, or you won’t get to see Gramma and Granpop,” Olivia’s mother warned.

Olivia groaned. All she saw was the bushy ponytail her mother wore as she walked away. Olivia glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to six. In the morning. The sun wasn’t even close to rising. With a grumble Olivia rolled over in bed.

As if on cue her mother’s voice called out to her from the other side of the room. “I mean it, Olivia! Fifteen minutes or we’re leaving without you!”

“A’righ, a’righ. ‘M up,” she slurred to no one in particular while sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She doubted her family would actually leave without her, but then again she didn’t want to test it. More than half asleep Olivia went to her dresser and began to pull clothes out and toss them in the trunk at the foot of her bed. Just then Rose poked her head into Olivia’s room.

“Blimey, Livvie. You’re still packing? I finished packing my trunk yesterday,” Rose said in a tone surprisingly similar to their mother. Olivia just looked at her sister with bleary eyes.

Olivia and Rose were more than sisters. They were identical twins. When they stood side by side there was no way to tell them apart. They were the both the average height and weight for their age. Both had fiery red hair like their father, but with the bushy consistency from their mother. They were both pale with a fair number of freckles on their cheeks and shoulders, and they shared every facial feature, from their longer-than-average noses to their soft brown eyes.

Rose, however, was most like her mother; Anxious to succeed in her studies and a bit of a know-it-all at times. Olivia took after her father. She had a negligence for rules and put off anything having to do with work as long as possible. Thankfully Rose had always been there to keep Olivia on track.

Rose looked at the trunk overflowing with piles of clothes and laughed. “Here, I’ll help you.” She knelt down and started folding clothes into neat piles.

While Rose took over the folding Olivia went to get dressed. She chose a hand-me-down khaki skirt and a simple button-up pink blouse that clashed terribly with her hair color, but she didn’t really care. She then brushed her teeth and tried to tame her hair, but to no avail. No matter what she did her hair it still looked like an electrocuted Pygmy Puff.



Fifteen minutes later everyone was packed in the cramped car, parents in the front and children in the back. Olivia had the misfortune of sitting in the middle seat.

“Because you were the last one to get in,” her mother had said. It seemed that was always the case. When was Olivia not in the middle seat?

Olivia tried to maneuver around and get her seat buckle but she accidentally elbowed Hugo in the ribs. Hugo, who was known for having a short temper, gave Olivia a sharp glare and elbowed her in the ribs right back.

“Ow! Mum! Hugo hit me!”

“Olivia started it,” Hugo countered.

Their mum turned around in her seat with a ferocity that quieted the bickering pair. “Listen, you two. This is the last practice your father has before his driving test at the end of the summer. And unless you want your father to run into a fire hydrant I suggest you button your lips.”

Hugo started to open his mouth, to ask what a “fire hydrant” was, Olivia was sure, but then he closed his mouth again. There were times you just didn’t mess with Mum.

Their mum then proceeded to instruct my father in all the pre-driving rituals. "Did you buckle up, Ron?"

"Yes, ‘Mione." His voice was quickly getting shorter with agitation.

"Did you check all your mirrors and adjust them for an optimum level of clarity?"

"Yes, ‘Mione."

"Did you—"

"Check to see if the lights are in working order? Yes. Check the fuel and brake liquid levels? Yes. Check all blind spots? Ensure all passengers are buckled and make sure all doors, including the hood of the car, are securely fastened? Yes, yes, and yes."
Hugo, Rose and Olivia erupted into snickers. Olivia could see her mum's frowning reflection in the window, like there always was when someone is trying to upstage her.

"I am just trying to help, Ron."

"I know. And you are doing a wonderful job, Hermione," their dad said in an overly sweet voice. Apparently he realized he had crossed the line with her and offended her. "But I would really like to drive now."

Mum crossed her arms across her body and turned away from him. "Fine, then. Drive."

Hugo turned to Olivia. "Bet you two sickles Dad hits the curb backing out." He stuck his hand out.

Dad hit the curb nine out of ten times when first learning to drive, but he had gotten better in these recent months. "Make it three and we're good." Olivia shook his hand.

Sure enough as their father was backing out there was a sickening crunch, then screech, and then the car abruptly dropped several inches as we feel from the curb and onto the street. Hugo looked to Olivia with a cheeky grin, palm held up. She rolled her eyes and placed three silver coins in his greedy palm. That's what I get for having faith in my father, she thought.