Chapter 3. The Letter From No OneoOoOo

  “Séléné, time to get up! It's eight o’clock already!”

  Gabriel’s voice echoed up the stairs, clearly determined to pry his daughter out of bed. But his call didn’t quite have the intended effect.

  “Mmh… go’way. It’s Saturday. No wakey. Comfy,” came the muffled reply from under the covers.

  By that point, Gabriel had reached her bedroom door, leaning against the frame with a knowing smile. On schooldays, his daughter never had trouble getting up, often she was the first one downstairs, dressed and ready. But come the weekend, it was like her internal clock switched to full hibernation mode. Waking her required either cunning, or a very good reason.

  Luckily for Gabriel, he had an ace up his sleeve this morning.

  “What a shame. I was going to let you open your birthday treats today… but if you’re too sleepy, I suppose we can put them away until next year.”

  “Mmh? Birthday?”

  For a few moments, there was only silence. And then the meaning of his words clicked into pce. In an instant, Séléné threw off the covers and sat bolt upright.

  “I’m up! I’m ready!”

  Gabriel burst out ughing. Her hair was a wild halo around her head, and she looked nothing like the elegant little girl he was used to seeing so well put together. She shot him a dark, knowing look, she was well aware of the reason for his amusement.

  Still grinning, he crossed the room and pulled her into a warm hug, pnting a kiss on her forehead.

  “Happy birthday, princess. Now get yourself ready, your mum and I are waiting in the kitchen.”

  He stepped back and headed out, pausing at the door to give her hair one st teasing gnce.

  Séléné chose, with great maturity, to ignore the personal attack. For now.

  She headed to the bathroom to freshen up. It was too early for a full bath, and she was far too excited to linger, so she settled for a quick shower and pulled on something warm. November mornings in Devon had taught her not to underestimate the British climate.

  Despite her eagerness, she made sure to brush her hair properly. She wasn’t going to let her father have the st ugh.

  Once she deemed herself presentable, she made her way downstairs. The sight that greeted her made her heart skip.

  There on the kitchen table were her presents, neatly arranged in a small pile. But more importantly, far more importantly, her favourite Japanese breakfast was waiting for her: warm miso soup, a little bowl of natto, and a perfectly cooked portion of rice with sesame sprinkles.

  She threw her arms around her mother in a tight hug.

  “Arigatō, Kā-san!” (Thanks, mum!) she said, burying her face into Miyu’s shoulder.

  They both knew it wasn’t easy to get hold of Japanese ingredients in Devon, even with an import-export expert in the house. This was something special. And Séléné had missed this kind of breakfast so much.

  After thanking her parents properly and taking a few bites of steaming rice, she turned toward the gifts. Her mother gave a small nod of approval, and Séléné’s fingers were already reaching for the first one.Once the gift was in her hands, Séléné took great pleasure in examining it from every possible angle before beginning to unwrap it, slowly, deliberately, with exaggerated care. She knew exactly how impatient her father got with this sort of thing. He was the kind of person who ripped wrapping paper to shreds the second it touched his hands, and watching him fidget, gncing at her from the corner of his eye, felt like the perfect form of mischief-driven justice.

  Half an hour passed in this teasing rhythm, unwrap a corner, steal a smirk at Gabriel, unfold another fp, pause for dramatic effect. When the final ribbon came off the st box, she had gathered a small trove of carefully chosen treasures. From her mother, a graceful calligraphy set, complete with ink stone, brushes, and delicate washi paper. From her father, a softly glowing globe that could double as a nightlight, casting the shapes of continents in golden light across her bedroom walls. Together, her parents had given her a Kodak film camera, sturdy, simple, and hers alone, along with two rolls of film she could use to capture her new life. And from far away in Japan, a parcel had arrived the day before: inside, her grandmother had folded a beautiful autumn-patterned yukata, and her aunt had added a matching obi sash, rich in texture and deep in color.

  Her eyes shimmered, the emotion catching at the back of her throat, but she blinked quickly and wrapped her arms around both her parents again, murmuring her thanks one more time.

  And only then, when the gifts were opened and her heart had settled a little, did she finally surrender to the breakfast id out before her. The scent of warm miso and freshly steamed rice had been tormenting her since she walked in, and now, it was bliss.While she savored each bite of the breakfast she had missed so dearly, Miyu expined the pn for the day. First, a visit to Dartmoor Zoological Park right after breakfast. Then, dinner in Plymouth at a restaurant Gabriel had found. And finally, a cinema trip to see ‘Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves', the movie with Kevin Costner that Séléné had often heard other kids whispering about in the schoolyard.

  Enchanted by the day’s lineup, she continued eating with gusto, her chopsticks working faster now that anticipation was fueling her appetite.

  Then, suddenly, there came a knock at the front door, followed by the distinctive ctter of the letterbox fp opening and a single letter falling onto the floor.

  Miyu and Gabriel exchanged a surprised gnce. Since Séléné’s birthday was on the first of November, a public holiday, they hadn’t expected the post to come at all. Séléné, meanwhile, felt a strange tightening in her stomach. Okuni had mentioned, just a few nights ago, that the letter from Hogwarts would likely arrive on her eleventh birthday… and it seemed she had not been wrong.

  But before Séléné could move to retrieve it, Gabriel was already at the front door.

  “That’s odd,” they heard him say from the hallway.

  “What do you mean?” Miyu called out from the kitchen, puzzled.

  Gabriel reappeared a moment ter, holding not an envelope, as one might expect, but a single sheet of what looked very much like parchment.

  “This doesn’t look like ordinary mail,” he said, frowning. “It’s… parchment? I don’t think I’ve ever seen paper this nice before.”

  “What does it say?” Miyu asked, standing to take a closer look.

  Gabriel adjusted his grip and read aloud.

  “‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Denge,

  We are pleased to inform you that your daughter, Séléné, has shown exceptional abilities that make her eligible to attend a prestigious private school located in Scotnd. A representative from our school will visit you tomorrow at 7 PM to provide more details and answer any questions you might have. We look forward to meeting you and your family!’”

  He paused. “Is this… some kind of prank?”

  “If it is, it’s a rather expensive one,” Miyu said, taking the parchment from him and holding it up to the light. “This kind of material isn’t cheap. But still… why wouldn’t they sign it? That’s odd. Suspicious, even.”

  “Exactly. What do you think, Séléné?”

  Caught off guard, and mid-bite, with a mouthful of natto, Séléné could only shrug in the universal gesture of no clue.

  “Well,” Gabriel said, “we could guess all day, but I suppose it’ll be easier to wait until tomorrow. If it’s a joke, nothing will come of it. And if it’s not... well, we’ll find out soon enough. No need to worry about it now. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day as pnned.”

  The rest of breakfast passed without incident. Everyone had quietly agreed to ignore the letter. Gabriel and Miyu, because they genuinely had no idea what it could mean. And Séléné, because she knew exactly what it meant, but had no reasonable way to expin it.

  So, rather than worry about the letter from no one, the family piled into the car and headed off toward the zoo, ready to enjoy the rest of their day, just as they had pnned.

  oOoOo

  Séléné didn’t take long to completely forget about the letter. As her parents had said, there wasn’t much they could do about it anyway. And despite Okuni’s presence in her dreams and the weight of responsibilities quietly drawing closer, she was still only an eleven-year-old girl on her birthday, and that day, she chose to focus on the animals at the zoo.

  The air was crisp, but not unpleasant for the first of November, and Séléné was having a wonderful time, flitting eagerly from one exhibit to the next, pausing to read each pcard with care under the amused eyes of her parents.

  At the meerkat enclosure, she crouched near the gss, eyes wide as one of the little creatures scurried up a rock and stood alert, its tiny face turned directly toward her. For a long moment, it just stared, unmoving.

  “Celui là te ressemble,” (That one looks like you) Gabriel said from behind her, his voice filled with mischief.,”observing everything with interest,”

  “Rude,” she replied without looking back. “I’m much taller.”

  Further on, she lingered near the red panda habitat, captivated by the way one of them curled itself into a crescent of soft rust-colored fur atop a branch. It looked impossibly peaceful. She made a mental note to draw it ter.

  Of all the areas in the zoo, it was the reptile house she loved most, perhaps because the entire enclosure was heated, making it feel like stepping into a different world. Warm air wrapped around her shoulders the moment she entered, thick with the scent of moss and heat mps. Her breath fogged slightly on the gss as she stared at a massive python coiled in zy spirals across a bed of bark chips. She couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to stumble upon such a creature in the wild, what instinct would rise up first: fear or fascination?

  After several hours of exploration, they finally had to leave in order to make their dinner reservation on time, and from there, head to the cinema for the evening showing. As they walked back toward the car, Séléné clutched the souvenir postcard she had chosen: a red panda in mid-leap, tail fred like a brushstroke.

  She didn’t say it out loud, but the day had been perfect. Quiet, simple, and very nearly magical, without a single spell in sight.

  oOoOo

  The following day, about ten minutes before the appointed time, the entire family was gathered in the sitting room, where a cozy fire crackled softly in the hearth. Each of them was occupied in their own quiet way. Gabriel was half-watching a rerun of a Benny Hill sketch on the television, gncing frequently toward the front door between bursts of ughter. Miyu, meanwhile, was rereading ‘Noruwei no Mori’ by Haruki Murakami, the pages turning slowly, her expression calm. She didn’t seem to be watching the clock at all, clearly still skeptical that the letter had been real in the first pce.

  As for Séléné, she was doing her best to hide her nervousness by focusing on her calligraphy, the steady glide of the brush helped her breathe in rhythm, even if her hand trembled slightly.

  During the night, Okuni had taken care to prepare her for what was coming. According to her ancestor’s vision, British magical society was deeply insur, archaic in structure, and intolerant by nature, steeped in a superiority complex so deeply rooted that they had created their own judicial system, one that ignored and even trampled on the principles of the Magna Carta.

  Séléné didn’t fully understand what that meant, Okuni’s expnations were sometimes a bit too complex for her age, but she grasped enough to know this was not the kind of system one should look up to.

  The fire crackled softly. Pages turned. A brush whispered across the paper. The moment stretched, unhurried, until the sudden chime of the doorbell snapped the stillness in two. All three members of the Denge family froze at once and turned their eyes to the clock.

  "Seven o’clock sharp… well, if it’s a prank, at least it’s a punctual one," Gabriel remarked. In one smooth motion, he rose from his chair, muted the television, and made his way to the door to greet their mysterious visitor.

  Back in the sitting room, mother and daughter exchanged a gnce and strained to listen, hoping to catch a clue. But Gabriel and the guest were speaking too softly for them to make out any words, only one thing was clear: the second voice definitely belonged to a woman.

  A few minutes passed, during which Séléné debated whether to sneak closer and eavesdrop, before Gabriel finally returned, accompanied by a striking woman in her thirties with vivid red hair and piercing emerald-green eyes. She stepped into the room with quiet confidence, her coat catching the light, the fire casting a faint shimmer in her hair.

  Gabriel wore a conflicted look on his face and introduced their visitor with a tone that made it clear he didn’t believe a word he was about to say.

  “Miyu, Séléné, this is Lily Potter, apparently a professor at a school for witchcraft called Hogwarts.”

  While Miyu met the news with open disbelief, Séléné couldn’t stop a surprised gasp from escaping her lips. The breath caught in her throat. Her heart stuttered once, then thudded hard against her ribs.

  She didn’t quite understand how this could be possible. Most of the information passed down by Okuni was vague and broad, but two facts had been crystal clear: the identity of the boy destined to save them all, and what had happened to his parents. Harry’s mother, one Lily Potter, was supposed to have died alongside her husband in October of 1981, not be standing here as a professor in November 1991.

  Suddenly, Séléné felt much less sure of herself. She’d been nervous about entering such a hostile world, but she believed that with Okuni guiding her, she had an edge. But if that information was wrong…

  Unfortunately, her surprise hadn’t gone unnoticed. Three pairs of eyes were now fixed on her.

  Scrambling for a pusible expnation, she said the first thing that came to mind: “A school for witchcraft? That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  Her skepticism clearly pleased Gabriel, if the amused twitch at the corner of his mouth was anything to go by.

  Lily Potter, for her part, studied her for half a second, her expression unreadable. Then she gave the kind of smile that said she’d heard far stranger things from first-time families.

  “I can understand your doubts,” she said calmly, “but I assure you, magic is real.”

  To demonstrate her point, Lily conjured a wand into her hand. With a few graceful, complex movements in the air, several effects occurred at once: the armchair Miyu was sitting in rose gently off the ground, the fmes in the firepce turned a vivid shade of violet, and the calligraphy brush lying on the table stirred to life, beginning to paint delicate flowers across the page Séléné had started earlier.

  Gabriel and Miyu tensed immediately, visibly unsettled by the dispy. Séléné, however, couldn’t help but be captivated by the magic unfolding before her eyes.

  After giving them a few seconds to adjust, Lily continued, “Magic has always existed. But in the 17th century, during the witch hunts and burnings, which, incidentally, killed far more innocents than actual witches, the magical world made a decision. We would go into hiding, until the day we could safely coexist again.”

  Seeing that she still had the family’s attention, Lily went on. “One important thing to understand is that magic is usually inherited. Having magical parents increases the likelihood of magical children. But sometimes, a magical child is born to ‘ordinary’ parents. One widely accepted theory is that somewhere in your ancestry, there was a magical ancestor, the trait can reappear after generations. But don’t worry, it’s more common than you might think. I myself was born to mundane parents, and knew nothing about this world until I turned eleven.”

  “The problem is that, without training, a child’s magic tends to be unstable. You’ve probably noticed odd, unexpined events happening around your daughter when she’s emotional. That’s known as accidental magic, and as she grows older, it will only get stronger, which could put all three of you at risk. That’s why we’re offering her a pce at Hogwarts: so that Séléné can learn to channel her magic, to make it intentional, rather than accidental.”

  Having finished the first part of her expnation, Lily paused and observed the family. The father still looked unconvinced, but not hostile. The mother, on the other hand, seemed far more concerned, she had likely witnessed more of her daughter’s magic than she let on. As for the young witch, she simply looked stunned, which was a perfectly normal reaction during these home visits.

  “And if we say no?” Gabriel asked suddenly, more out of curiosity than defiance.

  “Of course, that’s your right,” Lily replied evenly. “There are two options. You can enroll your daughter in a different magical school of your choosing, Beauxbatons in France, Ilvermorny in the United States… or Sakuramiya, in Japan,” she added, gncing briefly at the Japanese book resting near Miyu.

  “The other option, the more drastic one, is to suppress your daughter’s magic entirely, and continue life as it is now. Unfortunately, it’s impossible for her to attend a normal school while keeping her magic. That would be like pcing a child with a high risk of spontaneous combustion inside a petrol station.”

  She let that sink in, then added more softly,

  “Of course, that’s not the option I recommend. Magic is a part of who she is. And the children whose parents chose that path… they were never quite whole again.”

  Seeing that her husband was struggling to find the right words, Miyu took over gently. “And… could you tell us a little more about this school? Hogwarts, was it?”

  “Of course,” Lily replied with a warmer smile, clearly trying to ease the tension a bit. “As mentioned in the parchment you received yesterday, the school is a boarding institution located in Scotnd. The academic year follows the traditional calendar: it begins in September and ends in June, with holidays for Christmas and Easter, of course. We understand that, for a mundane family, the idea of sending your child to a school you’ve never heard of, let alone visited, can be unsettling. Magical families don’t usually face that question, but in your case, it’s a perfectly valid concern.”

  She paused briefly before continuing, her voice calm and steady: “That’s precisely why we’ve established a special summer visit for families where neither parent attended Hogwarts, whether they’re magical or not. You’ll be transported safely to the castle for a full day. You’ll have the chance to meet several professors, tour the cssrooms and dormitories, explore the grounds, in short, to discover the environment your daughter would be living in. Most families find it very reassuring.”

  Catching a subtle nod from Gabriel, Lily continued: “As for the curriculum, most of it is magical, there’s quite a lot to learn, but we’ve also integrated essential non-magical subjects, like mathematics and English. The diploma awarded at the end of the seven-year program is recognized in both worlds. It is legally equivalent to a private school qualification, which means Séléné will be free to pursue higher education, magical or not, in whichever direction she chooses.”

  At that, both Gabriel and Miyu began to rex. For the first time, it truly sounded like a real school.

  “Of course,” Lily added softly, “I’m not asking you to make a decision today. I’ve brought the official Hogwarts acceptance letter, it contains a lot more practical details. And I also have with me an enchanted notebook. Anything you write in it will appear in its twin, which I currently have with me, but which will be given to Séléné’s Head of House, should she decide to join us. That way, I’ll remain avaible for any questions you might have, even after tonight.”

  The rest of the visit was much more pleasant. Miyu and Gabriel asked thoughtful questions, and Lily answered each of them with crity and patience. By the time she left, no firm decision had been made, but the adults' minds were no longer clouded by confusion or doubt.

  Séléné, on the other hand, was completely lost. She hadn’t spoken much during the conversation, just a few quiet questions here and there, and she had done her best to stay discreet. But everything she had just witnessed stood in sharp contrast to what Okuni had prepared her for.

  “Well,” Gabriel said, breaking the thoughtful silence, “it’s getting te. We should head to bed, we can read that letter tomorrow.”

  He gnced down at the thick envelope still in his hand. Like the note they had received the day before, it was made of fine parchment. But this one had a far more detailed address written in flowing green ink:

  Miss Séléné Ushio Denge The Lavender Room Chinaway Road Ottery St Mary Devon, EngndSéléné, for her part, didn’t know what would come next. The road she thought she’d mapped out had already shifted beneath her feet. But even as the world wavered, one thing remained: she would do what she always does.

  She will keep going.

  She will prepare herself, quietly, steadily.

  And when the time comes… she will be ready.