On Saturday morning, I woke to the sound of furniture being dragged across the floor.
At least, that was what it sounded like. I opened my eyes, glanced at the clock and spent a few seconds wondering who had decided to rearrange the room at eight in the morning.
Then I heard a familiar voice.
"No, that won't do."
Anunu.
I rolled onto my other side.
"What are you doing?"
The noise stopped at once.
"Anunu is packing your trunk, Master Oliver."
I raised my head. My trunk stood open in the middle of the room, almost full of clothes, books and things I didn't remember having last term. Anunu knelt beside it, holding a folded jumper.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
"That is why Anunu started today."
I glanced at the clock.
"At eight?"
"Anunu started earlier."
Of course he had.
I swung my legs out of bed and walked over. The book I'd been reading the previous evening lay on top. A robe sleeve stuck out beneath it, and something wrapped in thick cloth was wedged between the clothes.
"What's that?"
Anunu unwrapped the parcel, revealing two small jars of jam.
"Anunu, they feed us very well at Hogwarts."
"Anunu knows."
"Then why are you packing jam?"
The elf looked down at the jars.
"Because Master Oliver likes this jam."
I couldn't argue with that.
"But Hogwarts has kitchens."
"Not this jam."
That was also true. I considered whether the argument was worth pursuing.
"All right. Leave one jar."
"Both will fit in the trunk."
"One."
His ears drooped a little.
"Of course, Master Oliver."
I turned away to look for my slippers. Behind me, glass clinked softly.
I looked back. Anunu was slipping the second jar deeper beneath the clothes.
For a moment, we stared at each other.
"I didn't see that," I said.
The elf straightened.
"Neither did Anunu, Master Oliver."
At breakfast, Evelyn was more interested in my departure than in the packing.
"What time does your train leave tomorrow?"
"Eleven."
"Will Anunu take you?"
"Yes. He'll Apparate me somewhere near King's Cross."
She nodded. In the neighbouring portrait, Richard put down his book of chess problems.
"You could stay."
"The train won't wait."
"I wasn't talking about the train. You have everything you need to study here, a library and Frederick. I see no particular reason why you have to go back to school."
"Because it's school?"
"An administrative detail."
"Richard," Evelyn said.
"I'm only suggesting it."
"Besides, I'd like to see my friends."
Grandfather gave me a look of mock disappointment.
"I'm losing out to a group of twelve-year-olds."
"They let me win sometimes."
"Then you ought to find better opponents."
I smiled and reached for my tea.
Over the past few days, I had started to miss Hogwarts. Not the homework or getting up early enough to make it to Potions, but the rest of it—yes.
I wanted to find out what Draco had done over Christmas, and whether Blaise had found even one story in the book about wagers that he'd taken as a warning. I wanted to talk to Hermione before she started questioning me about my reading.
And, of course, I wanted to get back to duelling.
Frederick had spent the past few days proving that even in the fights I'd won, I had made more mistakes than I cared to admit. Now I wanted to see how much of our practice I could use against someone who didn't move along a set route.
Evelyn watched me over her embroidery.
"I'm glad you want to go back."
"Really?"
"Of course. I wouldn't want you to spend the whole year here just because you've finally found your home."
I thought about that.
"I wouldn't mind a few extra weeks."
"Neither would Richard. He finally has someone to play chess with."
"At last, someone understands my predicament," Grandfather announced.
Evelyn wasn't distracted.
"But Hogwarts can offer you things you won't find here."
"Teachers who can take points off me?"
"People your own age."
I nodded.
Those too.
After breakfast, I found Frederick in the study, reading yesterday's notes. They had been arranged on a stand in front of his portrait, with Anunu beside it, ready to turn the page.
"Good morning."
Frederick looked up.
"Ready?"
"For what?"
"One last exercise."
I glanced at the notes.
"I thought you were leaving me to Anunu and the trunk today."
"Fifteen minutes. The trunk can wait."
"What have you set up?"
"You'll see in the training room."
That was enough to make me reach for my wand.
Three moving targets and two devices that fired weak magical bolts awaited me in the training room. The same equipment we'd been using for the past few days, though the targets had been repositioned.
Anunu checked the last device, and Frederick appeared in the portrait by the entrance.
"You know the rules. Hit the targets, avoid the bolts and don't put yourself somewhere you'll struggle to get out of."
"And don't chase every opening."
"We'll see."
I took my place in the middle of the room and raised my wand.
"Ready."
The first target slid out on my left.
"Stupefy!"
The spell struck its centre. Before looking for the next target, I glanced right and spotted an incoming bolt.
"Protego!"
It bounced off my shield, and I stepped sideways to bring the centre of the room back into view.
The second target was disappearing behind a pillar. I could have moved closer and tried to catch it on the other side, but the stone column would have blocked my view of one of the firing devices. I took two steps back and waited.
When the target emerged, I was ready.
"Stupefy!"
A second hit.
The last target appeared higher up, near the wall. I turned towards it, then heard a click behind me.
Instead of casting, I dodged. The bolt skimmed past my shoulder. Only then did I aim, a little too hastily.
The red flash missed the edge of the target.
I swore under my breath. The target vanished, and a few seconds later, the devices fell still.
"That's enough," Frederick announced.
I lowered my wand.
"Two out of three."
"And you weren't hit once."
I looked at the spot where the final target had disappeared.
"I rushed the last spell."
"Yes. But you dodged first. A week ago, you would have tried to get your spell off before the bolt reached you."
He was right. I still would have preferred to hit all three targets, but this time he didn't have to explain why defending myself mattered more.
"One more go?"
"That's enough."
"You said fifteen minutes. We've got plenty left."
Frederick smiled faintly.
"I wanted to see whether you remembered what we've been working on. I don't need another twenty attempts."
Anunu switched off the devices before I could suggest even three. I put my wand away.
"Good luck at Hogwarts, Oliver."
I looked up at the portrait.
"Thank you."
"And bring back some new notes. I'd like to see how much of this sticks when your opponent starts making decisions of their own."
"Positions, reactions, my own mistakes?"
"Especially those."
"I'll try not to give you too much material."
"I'd rather you didn't leave anything out."
I spent the rest of the morning checking what Anunu had packed.
Everything had been arranged with exceptional care. Textbooks at the bottom, clothes in neat piles, writing supplies in a separate box. The problem was that he had decided to prepare me for almost anything that could possibly happen at Hogwarts.
"Why do I need four spare pairs of gloves?"
"In case they get lost, Master Oliver."
"All four?"
"Anunu hopes not."
Beside the gloves, I found an extra scarf. Then another.
"How many scarves does one person need?"
The elf considered this.
"That depends on the weather."
Eventually, we reached an agreement. Some things stayed in the wardrobe, and Anunu stopped adding more.
At least while I was watching.
When we finished, only the dark navy robes with their delicate silver embroidery remained on the bed. The ones I'd worn to the Wizengamot hearing.
I picked them up. Evelyn had bought them for Elias, and Anunu had kept them all these years. The fabric still looked almost new.
"Master Oliver?"
The elf was watching me closely.
"We'll leave these here."
"Anunu will put them in the wardrobe."
"Thank you."
I didn't need robes like these for ordinary lessons. They could wait at home for a suitable occasion.
Preferably one that didn't involve the Wizengamot.
Letters from Hermione and Harry arrived that afternoon.
Hermione thanked me for the book and informed me that she had already read a substantial part of it. I would have been far more surprised if she hadn't opened it yet. She also mentioned one of the experiments it described and said we needed to discuss it when we got back.
She didn't give any details. Apparently, a letter wasn't the place for a full explanation.
Harry's was shorter. He thanked me for the book of defensive exercises, assured me he'd been looking through it over Christmas, then got to the part that interested him most.
You haven't forgotten we're supposed to practise, have you?
I smiled and wrote back that I hadn't. We could arrange a time once we were back and knew how much work the teachers planned to give us.
Before I finished, Richard appeared in the study portrait.
"More letters?"
"From Hermione and Harry."
"Potter reminding you about your practice?"
"Yes."
"Have you arranged a time?"
"We'll sort it out at school."
Richard pulled up a chair.
"Do you think he'll ask for a rematch?"
"For now, he just wants to practise."
"For now," Grandfather repeated.
"I wouldn't mind."
"I thought not. Blaise will probably be pleased too."
I shook my head. I was becoming increasingly convinced that Richard and Blaise would get along wonderfully.
Which wasn't necessarily good news for anyone else.
Late that afternoon, I found Evelyn in the small sitting room upstairs. She was in the portrait beside the window, with a half-finished piece of embroidery on her lap.
"All packed?"
"Almost."
"Did Anunu try to pack half the house?"
"Only the half he could fit."
She laughed softly, and I settled into the armchair opposite her. Snow was falling outside. The path leading from the terrace had been cleared that morning, but a thin white layer had already settled over it again.
"How was your afternoon?" she asked.
"I was answering letters. Harry wants to start practising when we get back."
Evelyn put down her needle.
"What's he like, actually?"
"Harry? He's all right."
She waited.
Apparently, that wasn't enough.
"He's brave. A bit too impulsive sometimes. He doesn't always think before he does things."
I paused.
"Though Frederick could say the same about me."
"He probably could."
"Harry's also very good on a broom."
"And you?"
"I can fly."
"But you didn't say you were good."
"Because Harry's better."
I had no particular difficulty admitting it. I wasn't planning to compete with him at Quidditch. I had enough other things to occupy me.
Evelyn nodded.
"And Draco? Is he still on the team?"
"Yes. He's Slytherin's Seeker."
"Then you must have plenty to talk about."
"He does, mostly."
Grandmother smiled.
"Don't pretend you don't enjoy listening to him."
"I do. Until he starts telling me about the same broom for the third time."
"Tell me more about the others."
I started with Blaise. His bets, and the way he could comment on the most ridiculous situation as calmly as if he were discussing the weather.
Then I moved on to Hermione.
"She likes books."
Evelyn looked at me.
"I know that already."
"She really likes books."
"Oliver."
I smiled.
"All right. She's very clever, and she always wants to know why things work. She can come up with dozens of questions, even when you think everything's already been explained."
"That sounds familiar."
"I have no idea what you mean."
I told her about Luna too. Meeting by the lake, watching Plimpies, and how calmly she spoke about things most people found strange.
Evelyn was interested in her drawings.
"She's the girl who sent you the bookmark?"
"Yes."
"She did a lovely job."
"I think so too."
"And you gave her the waterproof notebook?"
"The pages in her old one were damaged. Some were practically curling up."
"It was kind of you to notice."
I shrugged.
"It was hard not to."
Evelyn returned to her embroidery, and I kept talking. We moved on to lessons, teachers and Fred and George's ideas. Usually, I went straight to the most interesting things that had happened. This time, we had room for the little details I normally left out.
Grandmother asked questions now and then, or laughed. Not once did she turn a story into an opportunity to remind me to be careful.
I was so comfortable that it took me a while to notice how dark it had grown outside.
"What about Dad?"
Evelyn looked up.
"What about him?"
"What was he like when he went back to Hogwarts after Christmas?"
She smiled almost at once.
"He always remembered something at the last minute."
"Really?"
"Usually a book he absolutely had to take. Or some notes. Once, everything was ready for him to leave when he announced that he needed one more volume from the library."
"What did you do?"
"I told him he could read it during the next holidays."
"Did he listen?"
Evelyn laughed.
"He persuaded Anunu to fetch it for him."
I snorted.
"That sounds familiar."
"Doesn't it?"
She set her embroidery aside.
"He had so many interests. He kept changing his mind about what he wanted to do after school. For a while, he was fascinated by old spells, then history, then spells again. There was always something he absolutely had to look into."
"When did he start studying the more unusual kinds of magic?"
She considered that.
"Gradually. There wasn't one particular day when he suddenly decided to devote himself to research. One question led to another."
I nodded. I still had plenty of questions about Elias myself, but I didn't have to ask all of them today.
"Did he like Hogwarts?"
"Very much."
"Even when he had to go back after Christmas?"
"He looked forward to seeing his friends. To a book he hadn't finished, or an experiment he'd left halfway through. Sometimes, he simply wanted to find out what had happened while he was away."
I settled back in the chair.
That really did sound familiar.
Evelyn watched me for a moment.
"You don't have to do everything the way he did, though."
"I know."
"You remind me of him in many ways, but you're your own person."
I considered this.
"A better chess player?"
"Let's not get carried away," Richard said.
I turned. He had just stepped into the previously empty portrait.
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to hear a ridiculous suggestion."
Evelyn shook her head, smiling.
"Richard, can't you let him win for once?"
"Of course. When he wins."
"I'm working on it," I said.
"I know. That's why I keep playing."
I couldn't tell whether he'd just complimented me. Judging by his expression, he had no intention of making it any clearer.
He stayed for a few more minutes, then announced that he had something to check in the study. I suspected it involved another chess trap.
By the time Evelyn and I were alone again, it was almost completely dark outside.
"I'd like you to write to us," she said.
"Of course."
"Not only when something important happens."
I smiled.
"Richard wants to hear about duels, Frederick about training, and Roland about animals."
"And I'd like to know how you are."
"Even if nothing interesting happens?"
"You can tell me about an ordinary day. Or mention that Draco has been talking about nothing but Quidditch again. I don't need a report."
I had written plenty of letters over the past few months. To the Ministry, to the bank, to Dumbledore. Most of the time, I needed to confirm something, ask a question or tell someone where I was staying.
I didn't need a reason here.
"All right."
"And you don't have to write to each of us separately. Anunu can show us the letter or read it aloud."
"Richard will probably complain that I haven't said enough about chess."
"Then I'll ask Anunu to mention that in our reply."
"What about Frederick?"
"Frederick will probably include corrections to your notes."
I laughed.
"So nothing will change."
"Not everything has to, Oliver."
The first lights were coming on in the garden. A few months ago, I hadn't even known where this estate was. Now I was sitting in its drawing room, promising my grandmother I'd write to her about school.
"I'll write," I said again.
Evelyn nodded.
"Then I'll look forward to it."
For dinner, Anunu prepared roast meat, potatoes and vegetables. He also found room for another dessert from his new book: an apple and cinnamon cake topped with a thin, crisp layer of sugar.
After the first slice, I decided that his arguments with the illustrations were producing rather good results.
"Did you do this one your own way too?"
Anunu nodded.
"The cook wanted to add too much cinnamon."
"What did he say when you changed the recipe?"
"That Anunu was not following the instructions."
"And?"
The elf drew himself up with dignity.
"Anunu said the instructions were wrong."
Richard laughed so loudly that Edmund appeared in the neighbouring portrait to find out what had happened.
The evening passed quickly. Roland talked about creatures that could be found in the mountains in winter, and Joseph asked how much I had spent on Christmas presents.
I told him it was less than I'd feared.
He didn't seem satisfied with that level of precision.
Frederick mentioned the morning's exercise. Richard immediately wanted to know whether similar progress could be seen at the chessboard. I wasn't prepared to give a definite answer without a chance to present some evidence.
Evelyn listened, occasionally adding a comment that set off another argument.
No one tried to turn dinner into a formal farewell or drag it out late into the night. That was what I liked about it.
I was going to school. I wasn't disappearing for good.
When I returned to my bedroom, the trunk was closed. My coat lay across the lid, with Hedwig's cage beside it.
Hedwig herself was on her perch by the window.
"We're going back to Hogwarts tomorrow."
She hooted.
"I'm looking forward to it too."
She shuffled closer when I reached out and let me stroke her back.
Anunu appeared in the doorway.
"Does Master Oliver need anything else?"
I looked around the room.
"I think I've got everything."
"Anunu checked three times."
"I believe you."
He stood still for a moment.
"When will Master Oliver come back?"
"I don't know yet. Easter, perhaps. I'll check the school holidays."
He nodded.
"Anunu will have everything ready."
"I'll write and tell you when I'm coming first. You don't need to start now."
"Anunu can wait."
He smoothed the edge of the nearest pillowcase, though there wasn't a crease in it.
"The house was very quiet before Master Oliver came back."
I sat on the edge of the bed.
"Anunu."
He raised his head.
"I'll be back."
"Anunu knows, Master Oliver."
He smiled a little.
"Now he does."
I looked at him for a moment, then nodded.
"Goodnight, Anunu."
"Goodnight, Master Oliver."
The elf left, and I was alone with Hedwig.
Before bed, I went to the window once more. The snow had stopped. Beyond the garden stood a dark line of trees, with parts of the estate I still hadn't properly explored stretching away behind them.
I was looking forward to Hogwarts. I wanted to see my friends, get back to practising and try a few things I'd been thinking about over Christmas.
And yet I would quite happily have stayed here for another week.
A year ago, leaving had mostly meant getting away from the orphanage. There hadn't been much there for me to miss. Now, for the first time, I wanted to leave and stay at once.
I put out the lamp and climbed into bed.
Before I fell asleep, I thought I ought to write to Evelyn when I arrived. Even if it was only to tell her who I'd shared a compartment with and whether both jars of jam had survived the journey.
That would do for a start.