Who You Choose to Be

Chapter One: Invitation

Dear Millicent,

Flora's and my summer has been abysmal. Great Uncle Donald came to visit us last week. He said he was only staying for a few days, but he's still here. Mum says she doesn't know why Father ever let him stay, but Father would never turn out Great Uncle Donald, even if he is a little... annoying sometimes. He's just like that.

Flora's making money by babysitting for the Muggle neighbours, and I honestly don't know why she ever started that job; from what she says she isn't enjoying it at all, and I must admit that I'd rather volunteer at the local library or something more worthwhile and albeit enjoyable than that... Babysitting, honestly...

Anyway, I hope your summer is going a lot better than ours. With Great Uncle Donald and his grandson Davie, I don't know when I'm ever going to get time to do the homework we've been assigned. They are so... annoying. Professor Flitwick said his essay was optional, but I feel that if I don't do it I'm not living up to his expectations. But I suppose you'll just call me an over-achiever and a typical Ravenclaw for saying that, won't you?

Honestly, I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts. It's not that I'm not enjoying my family's company; I just miss it so much. It's so hard living without magic, you know. You're so lucky; you get to see magic every day, but I suppose it isn't any use blibbering about it, is there?

How is your family? I suppose we're all fine - my Great Aunt Gloria is complaining about her spine as usual, but there isn't anything wrong with it. I wrote Darrin and he says he is, to quote his letter, "wonderfully fine and dandy, thank you, Fauna!" I take that to mean he's all right. Darrin can be too much sometimes, do you know? But it's okay.

We went to the zoo the other day. I really don't like seeing all those animals caged up, but I suppose they're all right; some of them were born in captivity, so they haven't missed much. But still, they've never lived their lives where they're supposed to be. And I was just thinking that was what it was like with Flora and me, before we found out about Hogwarts. We belonged to the Magical World, and we didn't even know it. But the animals there were quite fascinating. I suppose those few sentences were a bit jumbled up, and I'm sorry. I couldn't help putting that in there, I was thinking it, and it sort of appeared on the stationary without my noticing. I suppose that's what happens when you daydream over a letter.

Anyway, I hope your summer is going well. Please write back soon!

Yours Truly,

Fauna

Fauna sealed the letter and gave it to her owl, Alvis, who clamped it in his beak and stretched out his wings. Before he could soar out of the window and make his journey to Millicent Bulstrode's house, Fauna gave him a little scratch behind the ears, just where he liked it, and his feathers fluffed. Fauna laughed a little at the owl's partial behavior. She scooped him up on her arm, muttered, "Go on, then!" and gave him a little boost out the window. The owl swooped obligingly away, giving an appreciative hoot as he went. Fauna watched him go until he was out of sight, and then returned to her desk.

After putting her quill, pretty specialized stationary, and ink bottle in the little drawer reserved specially for them, Fauna went to arouse her twin sister Flora, who was sleeping late as it was a Sunday, so that they could go down to breakfast.

"Wake up, you," she said, shaking her sister's shoulder. The girl gave a little stir, and turned away. "I know you're awake," said Fauna, turning her sister over and shaking her again. She knew her sister only too well; they were identical twins and had lived in the same room, and, at school, dormitory all their lives. They were almost never separated.

Flora let out a sleepy grunt as Fauna shook her. She was very good. But not good enough. Fauna, as her sister had yet to learn after many years, was much better. "Oh, Flora, look, it's Juan Martinez!"

The effect came instantaneously. Flora sat upright in bed as if she had been electrocuted, and looked around excitedly. She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window calling "Where, where?" Fauna snickered at her sister's heartthrob, but Flora didn't seem to notice. "Oh, Fauna, where is he? I don't see him . . . any . . . where . . ." She turned her face and glared at Fauna. It was one of those glares that one must avoid getting at all costs. "I'll get you," she said in a deadly whisper. Fauna smirked and fled the room, closely tailed by her sister.

When the chase emerged on the stair landing Fauna spotted her mother in the kitchen, setting the table, already in her work clothes, while her husband cooked. They were very much in her line of sight, so Fauna stopped abruptly and hissed at her sister to be quiet. Flora's disconcertion about Juan Martinez, the muscular, athletic Spanish boy who lived next door, disappeared.

They crept down the stairs calmly, as if nothing had happened. The sisters knew that their mother would never permit their running down the stairs; she worked in a hospital, and made an effort to prevent that kind of thing in her household. So they walked leisurely down the stairs to the breakfast table, yawning and giving their morning greetings, which were answered by a nod from their mother and a shout of salutation from their father.

"Good morning, my charming ladies!" he boomed, grinning at them. "What would you like for breakfast? Kippers? Toast? Bacon? What?" He was scurrying around the kitchen in a fashion that recalled a mouse, picking up a frying pan, a spatula, and an oven mitt. As he scurried around the room in his much-too-cheerful-for-Sunday-morning humor, the girls' mother spoke. It was barely audible to Fauna's ears because of the large yawn that had risen unexpectedly in her chest.

"Your friend Darrin sent an owl this morning asking permission for you to stay," she said, turning to them briefly before turning to put her coat around the back of her chair.

"Just toast, thanks, Dad," said Fauna, excusing herself the yawn and pulling out a chair at the table. "What was that, Mum?" she added, casting her mother a quick glance that was meant to include apology.

Her mother nodded in excuse, and repeated, "Your friend sent an owl this morning, Darrin. He was wondering whether you could come and stay at his house for a few weeks at the end of the summer."

Flora and Fauna broke into outbursts of plea at their mother's words.

"Oh, please, Mum, can we?"

"Oh, Mum, please, can we go, he's ever so nice -"

"I know Great Uncle Donald is here, but he won't mind, and he'll be leaving soon -"

"And Mum, we never get to go and see our friends, and his is a wizard house, it's different -"

It became clear after a few minutes of this babble that their mother was not seriously considering the idea any longer by the way her eyebrows raised and her eyes crinkled. Flora let out a shriek of delight, and Fauna began to thank her mother profusely.

"That's quite enough," she said, smiling slightly as Fauna lapsed into silence. "I've already told him you were going, I replied to his owl immediately this morning." Fauna registered dimly through her joy that her mother was still getting used to owl-post, even after two years of her daughters' attendance at Hogwarts. "And," she added, apparently as an afterthought, "about your Great Uncle Donald. He's leaving tomorrow morning, Great Auntie Grace is coming from Spain. So you don't need to worry about him."

Fauna and her sister exchanged looks. They were extremely grateful, but were much too polite to show it. Fauna found, however, that their mother shared their feelings as well: when she was sure the girls weren't listening, she added under her breath, "About time, too." Fauna fought back the urge to grin.

Their father was now singing an old Elvis Presley song, to his great amusement and to his family's dismay. As he whirled around the kitchen in an apron and oven mitts singing, "Love Me Tender," Flora, Fauna, and Mrs. Stoer groaned and tucked into their sausages and toast.

But one thing could stifle any bad feelings she might have succumbed to today - they were going to Darrin's house.

~*~

Millicent's answer didn't come for a few days yet, and in that time Fauna was growing somewhat impatient with her. She wanted to tell her about going to Darrin's house, and without her owl, she couldn't send any sort of post to anyone in the Wizard World - not that she knew of anyway. When the answer did come, however, it was to Fauna's mounting pleasure, then stinging disappointment.

Dear Fauna,

Darrin's written and told me about you going to his place. I do hope it brightens up your abysmal summer. My summer is going just fine, but the house-elf died and we had to get a new one.

But when you go to Darrin's house, do make sure you play some Quidditch. He's got a whole large backyard, I've seen it, and he's got top-of-the-line brooms. He's got Nimbus 2001s, I think he said, and he's got a whole set of Quidditch balls. Oh, yes, I forgot, you don't like to play Quidditch. But you've got to tell Flora! She'll be thrilled! Oh, and besides that, though, watch out for the second floor guest bed. They've got a ghoul that likes to bang about in the closet. When I stayed there it gave me nightmares.

Anyway, I do hope your summer gets better. Babysitting sounds horrible. Why would you want to associate with baby Muggle slime? Oh - I'm sorry. I hope I didn't offend you. But honestly, why would you? You probably don't have any answers for me, as it's your sister doing it, right? I'll have to write and ask her in a bit.

And Flitwick's essay - do you honestly feel that way? You're right. You are an over-achiever and a typical Ravenclaw. I'm joking! You're one of my best friends in the world, of course I'm joking. I don't even want to think about Flitwick's essay, I've still got that one from Binns to do on how burning in the early 17^th century was pointless, and it's a pain. I can't seem to find it in my book, even. The stupid book, why's the index so hard to understand? If I could find the stupid part about the Muggle Witch Burning thing it would be a lot easier, and that book's about a thousand pages long. Do you suppose you could help me find it?

I'll write you later, then, Fauna - do write and tell me all about Darrin's house, will you? Please write back soon!

Your Friend,

Millicent

Fauna read the letter again, and grew a bit indignant when she saw that Millicent had said, quite conversationally and without a care at that, that she had been to Darrin's house before. Fauna had never been to Darrin's house, he had never invited her over before this summer. And she, Fauna had wanted to tell Millicent about Darrin's invitation, not for Darrin himself to do it. The put out feeling she had acquired intensified. She felt like Darrin had betrayed her in some way. She felt as if both he and Millicent had deceived her. It was not fair.

Fauna roused her sister, who had been staring at the ceiling, the hot July day that it was, fanning herself with a bit of folded up paper.

"Look at this!" she commanded Flora, whose eyebrows contracted and mouth closed. She sat up, looking concerned, and snatched the letter from Fauna's fingers.

As she read the letter, Flora's expression became less tense, less worried. At the end of the letter, she looked up at Fauna, her eyebrows raised. "What about it?" she asked, giving Fauna a quizzical look.

"Well, didn't you read it?" Fauna asked her, snatching the letter back resentfully.

"Well, of course I did, what did you have to get so mad about?" Flora responded defensively.

"She - she -" Fauna found that she could not express what she was angry about. Apart from the fact that Darrin liked Millicent better than he liked her - but she couldn't tell Flora that, she simply couldn't. Flora would find it silly, she wouldn't understand. She sighed.

"She what?"

"Oh, never mind, just forget it." Fauna said, folding up the letter and lying on her bed to fan herself with it. But Flora would not forget it. This was one time when Fauna wished she did not turn to her sister for everything.

"No, what was it?" Flora stood up and seized the letter, running her eyes over it again. "I don't see anything in this letter that would make you -" She broke off, and a grin spread over her face. "You're jealous," she said, grinning, rolling up the letter and staring at her sister.

"No I'm not," said Fauna defiantly, knowing that Flora's words were true.

"Yes you are," said Flora surely. "You're jealous, because Millicent's been to his house and you haven't. Honestly, Fauna, I'd have thought you'd have more sense than that - their parents know each other, don't they? Millicent probably had to go, she probably didn't have a choice!" Fauna was scowling now, and Flora's grin spread wide. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"You -"

But at that moment there was a great loud bang from below in the kitchen, and both girls ceased their arguing. Fauna's scowl disappeared and was replaced with one of utter shock. Flora gasped.

"What was that?" she demanded; Fauna shook her head. They hurried down the stairs, in search of the source of the noise.

At the foot of the stairs, however, both girls stopped. Fauna stared; Flora's mouth dropped open. There was a boy sitting in the fireplace, looking dazed, and covered in ash. It was Darrin.