Long chapter ahead! Oh, by the way, aren't my chapter titles like, so original?

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Chapter 4 - The Letter

A few days passed pleasantly, and hence, quickly; Amara learned that the Weasleys were nine in all: Mr and Mrs Weasley, six boys and one girl. She didn’t see much of the older brothers; Bill and Charlie kept to their room mostly and Percy, according to the twins, only enjoyed burying his nose in boring books about goblin revolutions and wizarding politics during his free time. The only other time she saw him after he’d memorably come screaming into the orchard about escaped chickens, gnomes eating cake and a ghoul wearing stolen clothes was when he stuck out his head from his window one day to shout at them for being too loud at their de-gnoming. Fred and George ensued by throwing him pebbles at the closed window when he wasn’t looking and then suddenly returned to chasing gnomes when he poked his head out again, frowning.

Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Amara were all glad to stay outside and enjoy the last few days of summer; the skies were already turning overcast and gloomy and as autumn drew nearer, Amara, Fred and George presumed their Acceptance Letters would be coming very soon.

On the fifteenth the sun rose half-heartedly again, and the sky, as it had done for the past few days, gave in to a pale wispy grey colour. Amara was in the kitchen helping Mrs Burke clean the dishes while Mr Burke read the Daily Prophet at the table.

‘Nothing here today...’ he said gruffly, folding the paper in two. ‘Old Wanda Sparks is retiring from the Wizengamot and apparently there was a break-in at Gringotts that turned out to be nothing but a—’

He stopped mid-sentence and looked sharply at the window. Mrs Burke and Amara both turned their heads too. An owl was pecking determinedly on the kitchen window, a letter tied to its legs.

‘It’s my letter!’ said Amara, bounding towards the window and throwing it open. The owl swooped in and landed on the Prophet, bringing with it a strong smell of grass and a strong gust of wind. Shutting the window, Amara made to untie her letter but Mr Burke got there before her.

‘Mr Burke—’ she started politely, as he didn’t look like and wasn’t a man to be shouted at.

‘I know what it is,’ he said sternly, opening it up. ‘Yes. Well, we’ve already talked this out, Adelaide—’

‘—yes, we have, Carl, but I’m still not sure about it. Amara should tell us how she feels about it.’

‘I’ve made up my mind and she’s not going there!’ snarled Mr Burke.

His wife sighed and wiped her hands on a dishcloth. She turned to Amara. ‘You want to go to Hogwarts, don’t you?’

Amara nodded.

‘There you have it—’

‘She’ll get a better education at Durmstrang! At least the Headmaster there isn’t a loopy, Muggle-loving—’

‘She wants to go to Hogwarts!’ She motioned Amara to go upstairs and, not needing to be told twice, she obeyed.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Amara felt slightly discomfited listening to Mr and Mrs Burke continuing to argue downstairs. What was it to Mr Burke if she went to Hogwarts? And he hadn’t even let her read the letter, the slimy old—

Amara pulled out of her thoughts as a small bang issued from outside her bedroom window. She got up eagerly and looked down, where, as she’d expected, four red-heads were looking up at her.

‘Coming,’ she called down, and hurried downstairs, tiptoeing past the kitchen unnoticed over the loud shouts and sneaking out of the front door. She normally would have informed Mrs Burke, but seeing as they were already lost in their own fume...

‘We got it!’ said George excitedly, waving his letter as she approached them. ‘Just as we were coming.’

‘Brilliant, isn’t it? I can’t wait to get sorted already,’ said Fred.

‘You’ll probably be Gryffindor too, just like the rest of the family,’ piped in Ginny.

‘Don’t be such a wet blanket, Ginny. And anyway, there’s the wand-choosing too,’ said Fred. ‘What about you, Amara?’

‘Yeah, I got it,’ she replied. She hesitated. ‘Er – but they still don’t know if they’re sending me there or—’

‘What? That’s ridiculous!’

‘Hogwarts is the best school—’

‘Yeah, they can’t possibly—’

‘I know,’ sighed Amara. ‘But – Mr Burke thinks I’ll be better off at Durmstrang.’

‘Durmstrang? I thought that school was only for Dark wizards—’

‘Don’t be silly, Ron,’ said Ginny. ‘It’s just known to emphasize on dark magic, that’s all.’ She looked quite pleased with herself for some reason.

‘What’s “empherize”?’ asked Ron.

Looking even more pleased with herself, Ginny started explaining in a professional tone the exact meaning of the word as they started walking down the footpath that led to the playground.

‘Don’t worry, Amara, your name’s already down, so there’s no way you won’t be coming to Hogwarts,’ said George, clapping her on the back. Amara shrugged but smiled. All the way up to the Burrow the Weasleys chattered animatedly about the Sorting – apparently their older brother Charlie had said they’d have to fight a mountain troll to get Sorted – and wondering what spells they could use against one. Amara joined in only when they asked her if she knew any spells yet; she tried to suggest a Freezing Charm cheerfully, but she wasn’t really feeling in it.

Fred and George would soon be going off with their older brothers to Hogwarts, the great, magical castle with ghosts and moving staircases; they would get Sorted and play Quidditch in the sunny grounds, and Amara would be away in the cold, frozen Durmstrang Institute. She imagined a hospital-like place, with empty white corridors and mental wards... A sudden twinge of mixed jealousy and gloom crept through her. She even wouldn’t be able to meet her best friend Dita again.

‘Hey, Amara,’ Ginny’s voice suddenly woke her. They were already at the Burrow. ‘We were going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and Mum says you’ll be welcome to come with us if you like.’

Amara nodded and muttered a ‘yes’. When the others went to the orchard to play a game of Quidditch she declined, partly to help Ginny and a reluctant Percy de-gnome the garden, but mostly because she suddenly wanted to be left to her own thoughts.

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