Chapter One-The Invitation

June 7, 2001

She'd known it would be a bad day as soon as she arrived at the office. Just back from vacation, and her supervisor told her that someone in her group had quit, which meant everyone ELSE in the group--her included--was spliting the work load. Twelve reports to update in three weeks. Then the lunch she'd just packed that morning was stale, the computers went down in the afternoon ("Stupid Muggle boxes" she'd muttered under her breath) so she couldn't work, and, to top it all off, her car had a flat when she left the office. And "Reparo" wasn't one of the spells that she'd memorized sans wand.

Not that she'd use it if she did. Well, maybe sureptitiously, if no one was looking. As it was, her handy dandy cigarette-lighter-powered air pump worked just fine; like her favorite magic teacher from college had said, "If you have a choice between magic and technology, use technology, unless the magic is advanced enough the Muggles can't tell the difference." Much of the time she forgot she wasn't a Muggle herself.

That'd make my dad so proud, she thought as she drove home. Her father, a hard-driving New York certified public accountant, had nearly had kittens when she received what he still called "THAT letter" from the wizardry school in Salem. There was no question of her going; according to her mother they couldn't afford it. And besides, added her dad, her whole bloodline was Muggle; why should SHE be magical? It had to be a mistake. But even he knew that those with magic needed training, or they would be a danger to themselves and others, so she'd received a regular education while getting tutored by a down-at-the-heels expatriate British wizard who seemed grateful for the pittance he was paid.

The wizard put her in touch with magic teachers in college. Those were really rough times, carrying a double course load in effect; but also stimulating. Still...except for the occasional wizard convention, and one letter she'd sent out hopefully, by pigeon, she'd put her magic things away and lived (mostly) comfortably in the Muggle world.

So Terri Weasley was completely unprepared for the owl perched on her mailbox.

It was still light, no doubt about that; summer kept the sky bright until practically 8 PM. But here he was, a large brown barn owl preening himself on her standard black metal mailbox. She approached him cautiously, looking around; thank heavens no one else was on the street! He gave her a curious look and a soft hoot.

She knew what it meant, of course. Everyone knew that Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry used owls for communication; somewhat old-fashioned, actually. "Why couldn't they have used a pigeon just this once? Nobody notices pigeons..." Which, after all, was why the American wizards preferred them. She sighed, and glanced at its legs.

No letter. Huh? There should have been something...very carefully she moved around the owl and checked the mailbox. Empty. Her roommate must have taken in the mail. And the owl must have put the letter in the box...if it had a letter and wasn't just some kind of natural fluke. If so, then this was a very smart owl.

She looked around quickly (again) to see if anyone was watching. Then, slowly, she turned to face the owl, who still regarded her curiously. "Did you have a letter for me?" It bobbed its head at her...and it didn't seem to be a coincidence. No, this one understood.

"And they want a reply?" she continued. Another bob. Oh great. How was she going to sneak this very conspicuous owl past her roommate?

Okay, one step at a time, she thought, clutching the shoulder strap of her leather attache case as she looked at her apartment building. It was a brick eight-plex, with four driveways and eight garages; her mailbox sat paired up on a single post with her landlady's mailbox in front of the third driveway. In much the same way, the doors to the two apartments were right next to each other. Thirty paces from the mailbox to her front door there was a small roof over the porch.

"Can you fly to the top of that roof and then drop down on this" she held up her attache case "if I hold it up for you?" she asked the owl. He fluffed his feathers, as if to say how ridiculous he thought it all was, but launched himself into the air without a sound and landed gracefully on the roof.

Trying to move both quickly and nonchalantly, Terri strode the twenty-seven paces to a spot just under the owl, and held up her attache. She tried very hard not to think about how much damage those powerful claws would do to the soft leather as the predatory bird dropped onto its waiting perch.

"Oof!" she gasped, going halfway to her knees as a foot-and-a-half of sturdy owl hit its target. As both owl and human rebalanced, Terri began to think this might not be such a good idea after all.

Just then she heard her landlady's door begin to open.

Thinking fast, Terri moved her left hand to the right, clutched the shoulder strap, and shoved the attache and its thoroughly annoyed cargo behind her back. The door was almost halfway open by now...

"Mrs. Kenswick!" Terri cried brightly. "How are you?" She could feel the owl trying to regain his balance as her landlady stepped outside in her usual housecoat and pink fuzzy slippers.

"Oh, same as always," Mrs. Kenswick replied, leaning heavily on her cane. "Just going out to get the mail." She squinted at Terri, who was trying not to squirm. "Are you all right, dear?"

Oh, just fine, thought Terri, just as wonderful as anyone can be who has an owl grabbing their attache with one claw, their belt with another, and--NO! NOT THE HAIR! A half-whimper-half-squeak escaped her lips as she grabbed for her head, hoping to disentangle what must have been the beak. Mrs. Kenswick gasped, obviously fearing she was in some kind of pain.

"Erm--headache," Terri said, thinking fast. "Busy day at work. Loads to do."

"Oh, you poor dear--and your first day back from vacation at that!" Mrs. Kenswick gave Terri's arm a sympathetic pat. "Do try some Valerian tea. It used to work wonders for my Ernie's migraines, rest his soul."

"I'll do that," Terri agreed. NOT. She'd smelled Valerian tea exactly once, and that was one time too many.

As Mrs. Kenswick hobbled out to the mailbox, Terri breathed a sigh of relief. Blessed be, she might get away with this after after all. She started to turn around to unlock her door.

Just then the old woman called to her, two paces from the porch. "Oh, Terri?"

No! "Yes?" she called, spinning quickly and praying she wasn't so close to the door that she'd smoosh the owl.

"Just wanted to let you know...Deidre dropped off her share of the rent today."

"Good!" Terri let out the breath she hadn't wanted to admit she had been holding. The shop where her roommate Deidre worked had been a little slow in paying her recently...and no surprise there. The best time of year for a Wiccan shop was always Samhain--and here it was five weeks past Beltane.

"July will be on time, right?" Mrs. Kenswick persisted. Terri winced. The old lady meant well...but she had no tact.

"Erm, it should be, Mrs. Kenswick," she said. "I know my share will be."

The elderly woman nodded, her lips forming a thin line. "Well, see that it is, would you please?"

"Absolutely," Terri promised. She watched her landlady make her way to the mailbox; only when the woman was halfway there did she reach for the doorknob. For once, she was actually grateful Deidre grew up in Florida, not New York as Terri had; the door was unlocked.

Obstacle one passed. Now for obstacle two: Claire and Esmeralda. She hoped the furry terrors were yowling for their dinner in the kitchen--especially Claire, who was in the habit of waiting by the door and rubbing against her legs as she walked in.

It was Deidre's week to cook, and the minute Terri opened the door she knew the cats wouldn't be a problem. Terri smiled as the smell of tuna casserole reached her nostrils. It's nice to have something go right today, she thought, easing her black flats off in the entryway. Then she shook her head. If Deidre's tuna casserole was an example of something going right, this owl had already seriously messed up her values.

"Merry meet!" called a cheerful soprano voice as Terri walked the ten feet down the entry way from the door to the living room.

"Merry meet, Deidre," Terri returned. She turned to her right to scurry up the stairs to her bedroom. "Gotta drop my attache upstairs--too much work--be right back down!" she called as she went.

"Dinner's almost ready!" Deidre called after her. "And you got this really weird--" Terri slammed her door, not wanting to hear the rest just yet.

Once inside, she took a deep breath, careful not to move her back or her shoulders; her feathered passenger had grabbed more than enough of her hair. Now what? After a quick glance around the room, she went over to her computer, which sat on a desk between two windows that looked out on the street she'd just left. The battered wooden chair at the desk dated to her freshman high school year at least--possibly earlier--but she thought it would do for a perch.

"Here." She shifted sideways, hoping he'd see the chair and figure out her intent. She heard him hoot softly, felt his beak move (and readjust its grip on her hair--ow!), then his weight shift. A moment later, her burden felt lighter, and she once again faced the barn owl. She had no idea how something with such a monkey-like face could look so much like it had had its dignity insulted.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but there's Muggles everywhere--including my roommate. And they're sharper than they're given credit for." The owl puffed himself up as if he found this hard to believe. Terri sighed. This had to be about the pigeon she'd sent...and if they wanted a reply, then it was good news, right? Surely if it was a rejection they wouldn't want a reply, right? Right?

Only one way to find out. But before that..."Err, I don't have any owl food. But I can at least get you some water." She opened her door and went directly across the hall into the bathroom. She filled the glass sitting on the sink with water, glancing quickly at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Dark blue eyes glanced back at her behind gold wire-rimmed glasses set on a freckled nose. Her bright red hair showed little sign of the struggle with the owl--from this angle. She figured she'd have to finger-comb the back before she went down for dinner.

She brought the full glass of water back to the owl, carrying it like a peace offering. The predator glanced at the glass for a moment, then at her--then dipped in his beak quickly, and cocked his head back, drinking it in. Terri sighed in relief. She placed the glass on her desk where the owl could reach it. "Sorry I can't offer better. But, um, if you see any mice, they're yours." With a quick backward glance at her strange visitor, she left the room.

"So it's tuna tonight," Terri said as she came down the stairs.

"Yup. And if you don't want any, at least the cats will eat it," Deidre replied.

Terri turned to her right once she'd gone down the stairs. The living room took up one full side of the apartment, facing the back yard; a sliding glass door, now open to let in the breeze, looked out on a cement slab that served as the patio. She spared the Great Outdoors a glance as she sat down at the kitchen table; Deidre had already set out the plasticware and utensils.

Beside her plate sat her mail. One seed catalog (as if, she thought, laying it beside Deidre's plate--she had the greener thumb); two magazines, a slim weekly (covering science) and a much thicker monthly (covering crafts and history); a cell phone bill; and...

The last time she'd received a parchment envelope addressed in calligraphy, it had been an invitation to a wedding. The ink then had been black, not green--and most importantly, it had been stamped. She turned it over. A seal featuring a lion, a snake, an eagle, and a beaver met her gaze. She knew what it meant, of course; it was on the cover of the Hogwarts, A History book she had borrowed from a friend of a friend and was still reading.

"Weird, isn't it?" said Deidre, carrying a casserole dish full of dinner and placing it in the center of the table. Two furry shadows followed. "I thought it had to be a prank--Esmeralda, Claire, stop that!" The chubby young woman turned her grey eyes to the cats who were now rubbing her legs and meowing loudly. "Wait your turn!"

Terri used the distraction to slip the letter under her plate. If she was really lucky, Deidre would forget about it by the time dinner was over. "Later," she muttered, reaching for the serving spoon that had already been set out before the casserole arrived. "Today was hectic, and I'm starved."

"You knew it would be hectic; the first day back from a vacation always is, with work piling up," Deidre called from back in the kitchen.

"Yeah, but--" Terri paused at the sound of the can opener. It was the cats' dinnertime, too, after all. She watched as Deidre opened another can of cat food and put the contents of the cans into orange pet food bowls on the floor. Black-haired Esmeralda dived right into hers. Claire, a white cat dappled with grey and black patches, raised her nose and sniffed the air.

"Go on, eat," Deidre urged.

"She's trying to figure out whether the sure thing is better than trying to cadge some human food," Terri interpreted, chuckling. Just then Claire turned, wearing what any cat lover would have sworn was a look of resignation, and began nibbling delicately at her dinner.

Deidre rolled her eyes. "Figures. She's your cat; too bright to settle when she thinks she can have better." She pushed her curly brown hair out of her face and joined her roommate at the table. Serving herself some tuna casserole, she asked, "You were saying something about your day?"

Terri gave Deidre the run-down as they ate, leaving out the part about the owl, of course. Deidre made sympathetic noises. "Oh, that reminds me," she finished. "Thanks for paying your share of the rent; I saw Mrs. Kenswick on the way in."

Deidre started. "Oh, don't mention it; I'm sorry I couldn't pay sooner, but Millie's store was slow this month--"

"But next month will be on time, right?" Deidre mumbled something. "Right?" Terri pursued. Deidre fidgeted, looking at her plate.

"I hope so," she said, and mumbled something else.

"I told Mrs. Kenswick it would be."

Deidre sighed. "I...wish you hadn't."

"Why?" Terri gave Deidre a worried look. Something was wrong, and it was more than just the Wiccan store's slowing business. "Deidre...what's wrong?"

Deidre wouldn't meet her gaze. "Well, it's just a suspicion, mind, but..."

"But?" Deidre's suspicions were right often enough to make Terri pay attention.

Deidre sighed again. "Millie brought Jason into the store and she had me show him around the place, teach him what's what, that sort of thing."

"She's having you train her son? He's what? Sixteen?" Deidre nodded. "But that store can't support another person on salary..." Terri blurted before her brain engaged.

"Exactly," said Deidre. Terri heard the slightest of quavers in her voice.

"But...isn't Jason living with his dad in Ohio?" Terri asked, trying to avoid the conclusion Deidre must have already reached.

"Not anymore," Deidre replied. The quaver grew louder.

"School?" Terri asked.

"He got his GED last week--and trust me, he isn't college material." Deidre dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. "Goddess, Terri, I've worked three years for her! It's not fair!"

Terri sighed. She'd done the math, of course, as no doubt Millie had. Jason would cost a lot less to keep in the store than Deidre. Deidre might have more experience, but Jason wouldn't need to pay for things like rent and food; besides, he was family. No matter that Deidre's friendly style had helped Millie build the business. Oh, Millie might not have come out and said anything, but both women could see the writing on the wall.

"I'm so sorry," Terri said. "I know how much this job meant to you."

"Do you?" Deidre asked, eyes narrowing. "Do you really?"

"Huh?!"

"I can be a full-time Wiccan in this job. Nobody gives me funny looks if I say `Merry meet!' instead of `Hi!' or 'Goddess!' instead of `Jesus!' But you hide it where you work!"

"Deidre, we've had this discussion before," said Terri, hoping it wouldn't spiral to its usual conclusion: with Deidre accusing Terri of not taking her Craft seriously enough, and Terri accusing Deidre of not wanting to live in the real world.

"I know," Deidre sniffed, eyes brimming. "It's just--" She couldn't continue. Terri got up and put her arms around her friend, hugging tight. "I wish I could hide it," she sobbed.

"Hey, the broom closet isn't that comfortable," Terri replied. Even as she comforted Deidre, she tried to think. They'd lived in the apartment over a year--in fact, they'd just renewed their lease in April. This June was the first time they'd been late with the rent. But if Deidre lost her job...she'd have to talk with Mrs. Kenswick. There were no two ways about it. Maybe she'd be willing to lower the rent temporarily, until Deidre found something else...

"I know," Deidre said, "but I think I understand now why you find it easier. It gives you more options." She sniffed a few more times; her sobs began to subside. "Thanks," she breathed into Terri's blouse.

"No problem," said Terri, pulling back to look at Deidre, who managed a brave smile. She even laughed, though it sounded more like a sob.

"Oh, enough negative energy!" Deidre exclaimed, waving her hand dismissively. She rubbed her eyes, then picked up the plates to clear the table. "Say, why don't you read that practical joke you got in the mail today? That ought to be good for a laugh!"

Terri began thinking desperately while Deidre took the plates into the kitchen. She must have seen the letter again when she lifted the plates; I can't pretend it doesn't exist. Deidre came back for the casserole dish, and glanced down at the parchment envelope in front of her friend. "Can you imagine--`Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'? You'd think one of our crowd playing a prank would be a bit more creative! `Frogwarts,' maybe!" Deidre chuckled, while Terri managed a weak giggle.

Inspiration struck just then. If Deidre didn't believe the address, why should she believe anything else about the letter? All Terri had to do was read it as if it really was a prank! Her eyes widened. Hide in plain sight...it was perfect...

"Well, let's hear it." Deidre returned from the kitchen and sat back down at the table, apparently all ears. Let's hear it indeed, thought Terri. Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began to read aloud:

Dear Miss Weasley,

We read with great interest the proposal for your doctoral dissertation. We believe that your chosen topic of research, "Beads and Jewelry for Protection Against Curses," would yield a significant addition to the field. We were particularly intrigued by the handmade bead samples you included.

Deidre laughed, interrupting her reading. "Obviously someone who's a fan of your jewelry!" she exclaimed.

Terri smiled. The two friends frequented flea markets, both as buyers and sellers; it helped when the money was tight, which seemed to happen regularly. When they ran out of items in the apartment to sell, they made various tchatchkas by hand and put them up for sale. Over the past few months, Terri had been recycling old glossy magazines by cutting out very long, slender triangles of paper, rolling them up, and covering them with two coats of clear acrylic; the result was a bead with interesting colors it got from the paper itself. Jewelry made from these beads attracted a lot of lookers, who were always astonished when they learned that the beads were made from paper--"No! You're kidding!"--and some even purchased a few pieces. Deidre had been getting on Terri's case to take some pieces to a gallery for sale, but she somehow never found the time for that. For doing a little wizardly experimentation, on the other hand...

"Go on, what else does it say?" Deidre urged. Terri resumed reading.

Due to the current situation at Hogwarts, however, we regret to inform you...

Terri stopped reading as she felt a lump rise in her throat. NO! She was so close! And she'd always heard that Hogwarts had the best research library in the wizard world; there was no way she could do her dissertation anywhere else. It was a lark, remember, just a lark, she said to herself...but somewhere between the owl's arrival and her reading of the letter, it had stopped being a lark and started being possible.

"Go on--`We regret to inform you...'" Deidre urged. Terri swallowed hard. She hadn't realized how badly she'd wanted this until now. She worked to keep the quaver out of her voice as she continued.

We regret to inform you that we cannot accept your application as submitted. We do have a counterproposal, though, which we would like to discuss with you. It would still allow you to complete your dissertation, but possibly over a longer period, as it would involve teaching. If you are willing to consider this, please respond by owl so that we may set up a face to face interview.

Most sincerely yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards

Deidre burst out laughing. "I don't know what our prankster friend was smoking when he wrote this, but I want some! And he got the tone just right! It almost sounds like a legitimate letter."

"Oh, does it?" asked Terri, venturing a smile.

"It's bloody brilliant!" She gave Terri an almost serious look. "The only thing that lost it for me was the part about sending the reply by owl. Can you imagine? `By owl!' I'd've figured they'd--" Just then she happened to glance over to Terri's left--and screamed.

Terri cautiously turned her head to look. There, perched on the spare chair at the kitchen table, was her feathered visitor, wearing a slightly impatient expression. Terri realized she'd forgotten to close the door to her room.

She looked from the owl to the open sliding glass door. She could try to shoo the bird away, pretend it had flown in that way...try to find it later...

No. She looked from the owl to the letter in her hand, and then to her startled friend. We were roommates in college, too, she remembered. We took some of the same classes...hated the same professors...shared spells from our spellbooks...They'd shared everything, in fact--except for one. And I'm tired of hiding.

Deidre managed a weak smile. "Oh, silly me, heh...the door's open. He must have flown in." Terri watched her friend's face changing, once she'd come up with a reasonable explanation. Even for a Wiccan, the idea of a wizardry school like Hogwarts was too much, apparently.

Time to leave the broom closet. "Um...Deidre?" Deidre turned to look at Terri. "I don't quite know how to say this, but--he didn't fly in."

Deidre's eyes widened. "Then how...?"

"I carried him in." With a sigh, Terri got up from the table and picked up the Uniball fine point pen next to the phone. Under Dumbledore's signature, she wrote:

Dear Albus Dumbledore,

I was most excited to receive your owl today. Yes, I am quite willing to consider your counterproposal. Please contact me soon so that we can make the arrangements for a face-to-face interview. I'm looking forward to meeting you.

Blessed be,
Terri Weasley

Her hand shook as she signed her name. Without daring to look at Deidre, she refolded the parchment and slipped it into the envelope. The owl perked up. She held out the envelope. "You know where to go. Safe journey." He took it in his beak, turned on his perch so he was facing the open sliding glass door, and flew away.

Terri finally risked a glance at Deidre. Between the bugged-out eyes and the gaping jaw, she looked as if she'd turned into a fish. "That--but--it--you" she gasped.

Some back part of Terri's brain that didn't have to deal with the situation thought it was downright hysterical. But this was Deidre. Terri was too close to her not to know what she must be feeling.

"Um...I can explain?" she began.

That seemed to break Deidre's trance. She slapped her arms down on the table and locked eyes with her. "Then you'd better start, sister, because you've got one hell of a lot of explaining to do!"

Terri winced at Deidre's vehemence. "I know, I know...but, um, could we close the sliding door first? I want to explain this to you, not the whole neighborhood."

Deidre glared, Terri turned and rolled the door shut. She sat back down at the table, faced her friend, and wondered how to begin. "I'm sorry," she said, dropping her eyes. "I wish I hadn't had to hide this from you."

"I'm still not exactly sure what `this' is," Deidre complained. "You read out this crazy letter about doing some kind of magical graduate work at an English witchcraft school, then this owl shows up--which you say you brought in here yourself--you scribble out a reply and hand it to the owl to deliver--just WHAT the heck is going on?!"

Terri didn't blame her one bit for her bewilderment; she'd felt that way herself when her magical abilities began to awaken. In fact, she thought she was going mad--and while "THAT letter" had made her dad angry, it made everything suddenly clear to her. She hoped she could make it just as clear to Deidre...and remembered a shared experience that just might do it.

"Deidre, do you remember when we discovered Wicca together, in college?"

Deidre snorted. "How could I forget? There we were, Ditsy Deidre and...what did they used to call you?"

"`Weasel,'" Terri supplied.

"Yeah, Weasel. Two misfits until we met at the Mabon celebration being hosted by the college's Pagan association..."

"Remember how funky that flyer looked?"

"Oh yeah!" cried Deidre, caught up in the nostalgia. "I couldn't stop asking questions all that night..."

"I had to listen to everything..."

"And we walked back to the dorms together, surprised that were staying in the same dorm and didn't know it." Deidre sighed. "You came into my dorm room and we stayed up talking until almost dawn."

"Mm-hmm." Terri smiled. It was a memory she held close to her heart. "And do you remember what you said about Wiccan groups?"

"I said that Middle America could never handle it if they found out that there's this peace-loving, magical group of people living side-by-side with them that just wants to be left alone," Deidre said, chuckling at the memory.

Terri took a deep breath. "Well, Deidre, guess what? There's this peace-loving, magical society living side-by-side with Muggle America that..."

"What did you say? Muggle America?" Deidre interrupted.

"It's...what we call those who don't do magic," Terri explained, not meeting Deidre's eyes.

"And `we' being...?" Deidre persisted.

"Those of us who do." Terri sighed. "And it's not the kind of drawing-down-the-moon magic you and I do in Wiccan rituals." I wish it were something that `simple,' she thought.

"Are you trying to tell me," Deidre asked, not taking her eyes off Terri, "that--that--that there are witches out there who really DO ride broomsticks and--"

"And do lots of other stuff, yes." Terri finished.

Deidre looked at her like she couldn't quite decide which one of them had gone insane. "And you expect me to believe this--to accept this as some kind of explanation?"

Terri sighed. Deidre wanted to believe it, she could tell that much--but it implied an awful lot she wasn't ready to accept. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. You want some kind of proof?"

"Well, yeah--I mean, I've never seen YOU go flying on a broomstick!"

"We don't OWN a broomstick," Terri pointed out. "But if you want proof..." She raised her right pinky. The sans wand drills went through her head almost without a thought. Focus--extend the mental wand--command--"Lumos!" she cried. The tip of her pinky began to glow.

"WHAT?! How did you--is that really--?"

"Turn off the lights," Terri suggested. Slowly, Deidre stood and turned off the light in the kitchen, and the one above the kitchen table. Terri's pinky was definitely giving off its own light.

Deidre sat down heavily, staring at the light from Terri's finger. She leaned toward it, looking it over. Probably hoping to find some kind of glow-in-the-dark substance, thought Terri. When she finished, Deidre faced Terri again, astonished. "Convinced?" she asked. At Deidre's nod, she extinguished the light.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" asked Deidre.

"I couldn't tell you!" Terri exclaimed. "There's laws about that in the magical community--there's a whole Ministry devoted to keeping magic a secret from Muggles--"

"So your mom and dad don't even know?" Deidre asked pointedly. At Terri's hesitation, she whispered, "They do know. So they aren't--"

"They are," Terri insisted. "My whole family's Muggle, in fact."

"Then why do they know?"

"It's just my mom and dad in my family that know. And they're allowed to know because, when I found out I was a witch, they were still my legal guardians." She smiled faintly. "They're not very keen on having a witch for a daughter--I don't expect they'll tell anyone."

"Oh." Deidre looked down at the table, seeming to digest this information. When she looked back up at Terri, there was hurt in her eyes. "But you still couldn't tell me? Even after...our junior year?"

Terri stood up and paced. They'd sworn oath as sisters, in a Wiccan ritual they had both created, that year. That had made keeping her secret from Deidre especially hard. If I had a dime for every time I wanted to break down and tell Deidre about it, Terri thought, I'd've never had any trouble paying for books or tuition in college. "Especially after our junior year." Terri knelt down in front of Deidre and took her hand. "The Ministry of Magic takes this sort of stuff seriously--or at least that's what my magic tutors kept telling me. If a non-blood relative ever found out, they'd have their memory wiped--just of what they'd learned, mind you," she explained when Deidre gasped. "It's not pretty, though, if they take it too far. And I could have spent some time in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Deidre asked.

"The wizard's prison," Terri said, and shuddered. "It's worse than Alcatraz ever was."

Deidre stiffened. "If...if the consequences are so awful, why are you telling me now?"

Terri stood up. "Because I'm tired of hiding it. Because I'll swear up and down that you're family, and that entitles you to know under--oh dang, I'm forgetting which act it is. Because it's not fair to either of us..." she felt a lump rise in her throat.

Deidre stood up and gave her sister a hug. "So you were protecting both of us," she said.

Terri snorted. "Yeah, but mostly me." She pulled back and looked Deidre in the eye. "Memory Charms--they're painless, you wouldn't even know it happened; the Ministry of Magic does them all the time. But Azkaban...don't overestimate my nobility, Deidre."

Deidre chuckled. "I live with you, remember? I know how selfish you are."

"Moi?" Terri gasped in mock horror. "Sweet, generous, altruistic, giving, MOI? How CAN you say such a thing?"

"Stop it!" Deidre cried, unable to hold back the giggles. She caught herself back under control, and sighed, shaking her head. "I still can hardly believe it's real..."

"Should I light up my pinky again?" asked Terri, wiggling it in the air. This brought on another fit of giggles.

But Deidre grew serious again. "There isn't anything else important that you're hiding from me, is there?"

"Huh?" Terri shook her head. "No, there isn't. And may I be clapped in irons in Azkaban if there is." Meeting Deidre's gaze again, she said, "And I'll swear to it in my own blood if you want me to."

Deidre opened her eyes in surprise. Unlike many Wiccans, Terri had always been reluctant to use blood in any of her rituals; even their bonding as "blood sisters" did not involve blood--herbs, candles, lavender oil, and sugar cubes, yes, but not actual blood. She claimed to be squeamish; the truth was, blood magic was uncomfortably associated with the Dark Arts, according to her magic tutors. So she found ways to avoid it.

"Yes," Deidre whispered, "I want you to. But not down here."

Terri's mouth quirked. "Well, okay then--your shrine or mine?"

"Yours," Deidre said with a laugh. "It's nicer."

The two friends mounted the staircase while their cats chased after each other and played around their cat tree. Terri noticed, in passing, that Claire had climbed to the highest spot, as usual. Esmeralda, not caring to argue, settled onto a lower platform and batted at a carpet-covered ball hanging from the platform above.

They turned towards Terri's doorway on the left at the top of the stairs, but Deidre stopped her. "I need to grab a few items from my altar. I'll be right in." She went through the door to her room, which directly faced the stairs.

"Okay." Terri entered her room, walking past the bed against the wall facing the door to her altar. It was a very small, antique chest of drawers, 18 inches high by 50 inches long by 10 inches deep, with 10 skinny drawers. Over this she had draped a large piece of blue velvet. As with many Wiccan altars, it bore symbols of the four elements and the Lord and Lady: for fire, a white candle; for water, a seashell; for earth, a pretty jasper stone she'd picked up in a nature store; and for air, an incense burner. To represent the female aspect, Terri used a green leaf--the Goddess as Mother Nature; for the male aspect, she used a colorful Joker from a deck of playing cards. It had seemed appropriate at the time, given the way her love life had been going...

Terri quickly dismissed the brooding thought and set to work. She lifted the velvet covering and began rummaging in the drawers. First to come out was a knife with a pearly handle and a lion's head for the pommel--that was her athame, and she'd need it for casting the circle. She'd broken with tradition by using one with a white handle rather than a black handle, but it had sentimental value; it was the first fancy blade she'd purchased with her own money. Next, she pulled out a more utilitarian knife--her boline, used for cutting herbs and the like. Third came a stick of sandalwood incense and a lighter. She placed the incense in the burner, and started to press down on the lighter--

"No." She smiled. No more need to do it the Muggle way if she didn't want to. Instead, she left out the lighter, but opened another very thin drawer near the top of the chest. She drew out a long, slender black velvet bag. "Hello old friend." In one smooth motion, she withdrew her pine wand from the bag and brought it within an inch of the incense. The stick lit at her slightest thought. She grinned. She'd made the wand herself with help from one of her teachers; owl-order would have been too much trouble with her parents not exactly thrilled to have a daughter practicing magic to begin with. Its highly polished (and well-sanded) surface concealed its core--a salamander tongue. Quite useful for any kind of fire spells...

"Are you ready to cast the circle?" Terri turned. She noticed Deidre was carrying two miniature tea roses and a small bag about the size of a hardcover book. She smiled, setting down her wand.

"A rededication, then?" she asked. Deidre nodded. She placed the bag in front of the altar, passed the flowers to Terri, and drew out two small vases, her own athame and boline, two sugar cubes, a tiny bottle labelled "lavender," a blue candle, and a palm-sized white silk drawstring bag. Terri turned back to her drawers and drew out a matching blue candle and a matching bag. As an afterthought, she added two small candleholders to the pile.

They stood up and cast the circle, inviting the elements from the four directions, plus the God and Goddess, to the ritual. Deidre started to sit down, but Terri stopped her and grabbed her wand. "If we're going to have a circle here, we're going to have a CIRCLE here!" With a quick wave of her wand, she encircled their ritual area with bright blue flames about six inches high.

Deidre gasped. "Don't worry; it doesn't burn, it only gives off light right now," Terri reassured her friend.

"Oh. Okay." She looked at the flames. "It's--still startling when you do that, you know?"

Terri nodded. "Sorry, it's just--I haven't done that in front of anyone but myself for so long..." She looked contrite. They sat down to begin the ritual. The candles were the same ones they'd used in their first sister-bonding; they already had each other's names engraved on them. So they licked their thumbs, traced over the names to seal them, then placed each one in a candleholder. Deidre picked up the lighter and lit hers. Terri held her wand over her candle and raised her eyebrows at Deidre. Deidre nodded.

"Incendio." Terri's candle lit.

"Thanks for warning me first," Deidre said with a smile. Terri smiled back.

Both reached for the sugar cubes, and put a drop of lavender oil on each cube. Together, they said: "For love, friendship, and sisterhood, pure and sweet." They placed a cube in each flower vase, followed by a flower. Terri remembered and recited the words the two had written together, as she gazed at her flower:

"Goddess, I ask that my sister's life be blessed,
Her life be filled with happiness,
Return to her, three times three,
The happiness she has given me."

Deidre passed her flower to Terri, while Terri did the same with Deidre's. Then Deidre picked up her boline, touched it to her pinky, and looked at Terri with some concern. Terri started to slowly reach for her own boline, then stopped, and grabbed her wand instead. Touching it to her own pinky, she said "Infindo." She felt a sting, and a small line of red appeared on her finger.

Deidre looked from Terri's pinky to her own, still holding her boline. Then she put the knife down and held out her pinky to Terri. Smiling, Terri repeated the spell. The two witches touched pinkies, held the white bags (which contained herbs from the last time they had performed this ritual), and recited:

"We weave these strands of our lives together
With these sacred herbs we bless our endeavors
We are good and we are whole
And we share this love with each other."

Looking at Terri, Deidre added: "With this bond of blood we complete the circle."

Terri repeated it, and added, "So mote it be." Then they closed the circle, dismissing all they had summoned to it. Terri put out the fire--both the blue flames and the candleflames--with a quick flick of her wand. Then she turned to Deidre. "Now do you believe I won't hold anything back from you?" she asked gently.

"Yes." She hesitated. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

Deidre looked embarassed. "How did you find out you were a witch?"

Terri laughed. She'd been wanting to share that with someone for so long...