July 24th dawned golden and loud.
A startled whoomph overhead and a flurry of feathers crashed into the Tonks breakfast table, scattering toast crumbs and tipping over the syrup jar.
Three owls stood proudly in the chaos, wings spread, parchment-bound scrolls dangling from their legs. One flapped lazily onto Andromeda's shoulder, startling even her.
"About time," Ted muttered, helping himself to more tea while Andromeda untied the scrolls.
Hadrian had been expecting it for days. He didn't even blink.
But Iris stared at the scrolls as if they might explode.
"They really sent them," she whispered.
"They really did," Dora grinned, grabbing the letter with her name.
She didn't pause.
Didn't question.
Didn't hesitate as she tore the ribbon and opened her acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—same as the other two.
She read aloud with the same breathless delight as Iris, face lighting up in exactly the way Hadrian had hoped it would.
Not a flicker of confusion.
Not even a blink.
She belonged in their year, and she didn't question it for a second.
After the Excitement
Hadrian stepped into the hallway while Iris and Dora excitedly argued about houses—Dora dramatically declaring she'd make her hair green and wear a snake pin if she made Slytherin "just to confuse people."
It had taken just a single quiet wish—an idle scribble in the Book weeks ago—and now Dora was eleven again. Their age. Their peer. Their equal.
His best friend and maybe—just maybe—more.
And she didn't even feel like something was missing, because in this new world she wasn't.
He returned to the kitchen, where Iris was now attempting to juggle leftover crusts and Dora was shrieking laughter. He let the doorframe hold him up as he watched.
His family. His girls.
He would make sure they had the childhood he never got.
That Evening
They sat on the living room floor, letters re-read a dozen times, supply lists already covered in notes and circles and dramatic underlining ("I refuse to wear standard robes," Dora had declared).
Andromeda had made blackberry pie.
Ted insisted they toast with butterbeer in fancy goblets.
Iris kept reading the phrase "we are pleased to inform you…" like she still couldn't believe it.
And Hadrian? He sat back quietly, arms draped over the back of the couch, smiling as the room bubbled with excitement and light.
They were going to Hogwarts. Together.