On the Threshold of Magic

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"Art is to console

those who are broken by life."


The morning of their departure arrived with a gray dawn, casting a soft, scattered light through the windows of Number Four, Privet Drive. Amapola felt an odd sense of detachment as she looked around the room that had been her world for the last few weeks—a world that was about to expand beyond the confines of the Dursleys' narrow-mindedness and into the boundless realms of magic and possibility. It was with a soft and relieved sigh that she shut the door to a room she knew would remain as is for the next ten months, and went down the stairs to meet Harry by the door.

In some turn of a miracle, Amapola had convinced their aunt to spare a bit of coin and allow the twins to take a taxi to the station instead of being dropped off by them. Vernon had taken Dudley out of the house for some ice cream, so it was only their aunt who stayed behind to send them off.

The women had yet to leave the living room and quietly pretended the twins didn't exist.

Their trunks, packed with the essentials for their first year at Hogwarts, stood by the door, symbols of the impending adventure. Amapola glanced at Harry, who was double-checking his belongings with a furrowed brow. The reality of their departure seems to weigh heavily on him. Despite her apprehensions, Amapola mustered a reassuring smile. "Ready, Harry?" she asked, her voice steady, betraying none of her inner nervousness as she spotted the taxi pulling up to the curb from looking out the front window.

Harry looked up, meeting her gaze, and nodded, a determined spark lighting up his eyes. "Ready," he replied, his voice stronger than she'd heard it in the days leading up to this moment.

"The taxi is here, why don't you load our things, and I'll say a final goodbye to Aunt Petunia for us both?" Amapola gestured sweetly as she opened the front door at the honk of the taxi driver.

Harry gave a hurried relieved nod, and all, but jogged out the house with his truck nearly tripping twice to escape.

As Harry busied himself with loading their trunks into the taxi, Amapola lingered at the threshold of the living room. Her gaze fixed on Aunt Petunia, who sat stiffly in her chair attention seemingly absorbed by a magazine Amapola suspected was more a shield than a source of interest. "Aunt Petunia," Amapola began, breaking the silence that had settled heavily in the room. The woman looked up, surprise flickering across her features at being addressed directly.

"I..."Amapola paused, searching for the words that could bridge the vast chasm of misunderstanding and neglect between them. "I wanted to thank you for letting us go to Hogwarts. And to thank you for taking us in, when I know you probably never wanted us to begin with. My memories are mostly gone, but some still linger. The rabbit stuffed animal you sent me holding a petunia flower was my favorite. I still have it here." Amapola stated as she pulled out the well-loved stuffed animal from her coat pocket. "It was the only thing from our nursery to survive, I think."

Petunia's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the stuffed animal, a flicker of something passing over her face—a mix of surprise, nostalgia, and perhaps even regret. For a moment, the walls she had built around herself seemed to tremble, revealing a glimpse of the sister she once was, before hardening again into the mask of indifference she wore so well. "It was the least we could do," Petunia said stiffly, her gaze shifting away from Amapola and back to her magazine. "You belong in that world... not here."

Amapola nodded, understanding the unspoken sentiment behind Petunia's words. "I know we've never seen eye to eye on many things," she continued, her voice softer, "but Harry and I—we're grateful, in our way. We're off to learn, to grow, and hopefully, to make you... less worried about the magical side of things."

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