A Meeting of Three

[Daisy Taylor]

((I'm indulging myself and writing out the backstory for Daisy, Elsa and Charlie. Yep.))

The letter had been left on her doorstep. Not in the letterbox, but the doorstep. It was on some old looking paper, with her elegantly handwritten address and an official looking seal. Daisy was automatically confused by it, but being the first to see it, she'd swiftly picked it up and run in to her room - it was a little like a cupboard, really, but it was comfortable enough. Jumping on to her bed, Daisy carefully opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Miss Taylor,
You are formally invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

Oh, surely that can't be real, she thought, resting the page down on her legs. Magic surely wasn't real, this just had to be an elaborate joke. "Besides, even if it was real," she whispered, "there's gotta be a mistake. I'm no witch. And even if I was, we couldn't afford it," she added, her face falling as she skimmed the letter. She didn't know anyone who would play this sort of prank, and scams typically came through via email, not post. Daisy sighed, letting the letter drop the the floor. She'd done some strange things she couldn't explain before, but surely that couldn't mean she was a witch. She was just dreamy, useless Daisy, only good for art and gardening. No future in that, she'd been told. Gardening, maybe, but only if she wasn't so lazy.

Eleven was shaping up to be a terrible year.

The letter was promptly forgotten until dinner time, where Daisy seemed even more out of it than usual. She picked at her food, which got her some strange looks from her mother - Daisy was normally a big eater.

"Daisy, what the hell's the matter with you?" her oldest brother, 23 year old Jack chimed in, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Uh. Um. I..."

"Spit it out."

"I gotta weird letter in the mail today. I thought it might've been a joke, but maybe it's not. I dunno." Awkwardly, she pulled the letter out of her pocket, where she'd stuffed it earlier, and uncrumpling it, she handed it to her parents, who looked it up and down, confused, and then looked back at their daughter.

"Who the bloody hell would've written that?" her dad asked, blatantly confused.

"Y-yeah," Daisy stammered, her face falling again. "Weird joke, right?"

"Now come on," a voice piped up - looking up, Daisy saw that it was her grandma, who'd dropped by to drop off a few things. "Youse all know Daisy's different - not in a bad way, petal - why wouldn't this be real? Why wouldn't Dais be a witch?"

"Mum," her mother piped up. "It sounds nice, but it sounds like a joke. Magic isn't real."

"And this coming from the girl who used sticks like wands and wanted to be a witch? I say it's real. I say we let her go."

"But she's only eleven...and it's in bloody New Zealand. How are we gunna afford bloody New Zealand?"

Her grandma had approached her, putting an arm around her.

"Dais. Ya wanna be a witch?"

She nodded. Of course she wanted to. It seemed to her now that it was almost like something she'd been born to be.

"And do ya wanna go over to New Zealand? If ya go, ya won't get to come back. Not often, anyway." Eleven, and she was leaving home! It was overwhelming.

"B-but how can we afford it?"

"We'll find a way. Do ya wanna go?"

She thought for a moment. Her family was all here, her home. And although she was the oddball, and didn't fit in, family was still important to her. What was her future, though? The local high school. Being picked on for being a big awkward girl who spent her time drawing and gardening. Taking a lousy job in a takeaway joint. Getting in with the wrong crowd. Dole bludging. Or...learning magic. She didn't know what would come from that, but it certainly seemed better.

"Yes. Very much so."

"Mum..." her mother began, looking pleadingly at the two of them.

"Go to ya room, Dais. We've got a lot of discussion to do." And with that, Daisy bolted out of the room and to her bedroom, almost crying. Faint sounds of argument could be heard, but she knew her grandma would win out in the end. She always did. Daisy smiled, for the first time in a while. Her, a witch! Things were looking brighter. She couldn't wait!

 

[Charles Martin]

Charles, rather like Daisy, was utterly perplexed by the arrival of such a letter. His mother had obviously seen it and left it on the kitchen bench, which he saw when he went to grab himself some biscuits for afternoon tea. It was rather official looking, yet the style of the paper and the handwriting made it look...different, somehow.

Curious, Charles picked up the letter and opened it, his eyes widening as he read the bizarre words. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

"Mum?" He called out, looking at the page, stunned. Was this a joke? It had to be. He, like most boys, had pretended to be a wizard, but that didn't mean wizards were real...were they?

Sophie entered the room, swirling a glass of wine. It was only four in the afternoon. She'd started drinking earlier and earlier, he'd noticed. She never got outright drunk, though. Just...he'd come home from school, and she'd be drinking. He tried to ignore it. He figured it would go away in the end.

"So? Are you ready to become a wizard?" Sophie purred, her French accent never having completely disappeared despite living in Australia for about twelve years. Charles blinked.

"Is this...is this real?" he asked, staring up at her, confused.

"Of course it's real. Didn't you know your dear mother's a witch?"

Now that knocked him for a six. His mother, a witch? She was odd compared to the other mothers, but a witch? Sensing his perplexment, she pulled out a wand from the pocket of her coat. Muttering something, she caused an apple to levitate over to her son, gently dropping on the bench in front of her. "Your father will be very cross if you fill up on biscuits," she jokingly reprimanded him, pointedly ignoring the fact that she'd just done magic.

"D-does Dad know?" Sophie nodded.

"I wanted to tell you my whole life, but he refused. He said that if there was a chance you wouldn't be a wizard, I shouldn't tell you. We didn't want you to get your hopes up if it turned out you weren't, darling. And we didn't want you telling your friends. Your father didn't want you getting worked up about magic when you could be focusing on other things."

Charles blinked. It was sound logic. He didn't like how his parents had kept a secret from him for so long. His mother put down her glass and threw her arms around him, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she whispered, stroking his hair gently. "I am so sorry I kept this from you." Straightening up, she smiled. "But, now you get to go study to be a wizard. Isn't that wonderful?"

Charles nodded. He was a bit shocked, but he was starting to warm up to the idea. Leaving home and going to boarding school in New Zealand, though, that was terrifying. He liked it here in Australia. He liked his family, he liked his friends, he liked going to a good school and playing cricket and rugby. At the same time, wizardry seemed to be in his blood. It would be pointless to waste his talents.

"Let's go sit down in the lounge, I'll tell you more about the wizarding world."