Flashback

Everything looked different to little Megan... From the moment she walked through the entrance to Hogwarts School. Her mother, Ariana, had greeted her with a long hug at Kings Cross station, then walked her to platform nine and three-quarters, and finally gave her a kiss on the forehead. She had carefully prepared her daughter's clothes to pack; she was thrilled that she was finally going to the right school for her.

Her father, Noah, had been so thoughtful with his daughter the night before and so pleased with the accomplishment: joining a magic school perfect for his daughter's abilities.

Megan walked confidently to the vacant seat next to the window in the fourth car of the Hogwarts Express, and the still-high sun highlighted the freckles on her face. There was only a red-haired girl sitting pensively holding a massive volume. Megan cleared her throat and, as she played with one of her braids, held out her hand to the girl.

"Megan Gold, I'm a first year, may I sit down?" the child's genuine voice brought her traveling companion back to reality, and so it was that Lily Evans lifted her nose from the book and met the gaze of what would be her best friend. "Of course! I'm Lily, and I'm in third year, rest assured you're not studying this stuff already!" she hastened to explain noticing that Megan was looking at the large volume with a worried look. "Large volumes are of little use, just open your mind and resort to your intelligence, the rest is on the side." The little girl gave a shy smile and sat down, adjusting her denim skirt dungarees. "So, Megan, I hope you will join us gryffindors."

"Well, my mother was a Ravenclaw and my father a Hufflepuff, so I don't know how much chance I have of becoming a Gryffindor." the little girl replied as she lowered her gaze, observing the girl's uniform.

A very old lady, dressed in purple, with an old pink bonnet covering her white hair, appeared at the wagon, carrying a cart full of sweets: chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Liquorice Wands, Fizzing Whizzbees, Jelly Slung, Peppermint Toads, but the thing that amazed Meg was every single package, she had not seen many of such colorful ones, only at Christmas time, when her mother bought them.

A smile full of tenderness appeared on Lily's snow-white face. "Are you hungry? Why don't you eat one of these?" she said, offering a box overflowing with chocolate Frogs, newly purchased, to Meg.

"Thank you." Meg's hand grabbed one of the sweets, brought it to her mouth, and her expression was one of the funniest Lily had ever seen.

"Is this your first time eating chocolate frogs?"

"Mom says I shouldn't overdo it, and it's been a while since I've had one." She giggled, blushing, then looked at the figurine inside the package-it was Priscilla Ravenclaw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. Over the years, Megan had collected figurines of Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, and Tosca Hufflepuff.

The two of them talked and laughed, occasionally gazing out the window at the verdant landscape, and it was as if Lily had found someone to protect, to understand, and not to judge, as others had not done to her, starting with her older sister Petunia. Lily came from a Muggle family, and shw was the one of the two who received the letter for the school of Magic and Witchcraft, thus triggering Petunia's wrath and envy.

She saw in Megan herself.

And she had known her only a few hours.

And as the train drove along the road the sky turned dark blue and the sun found refreshment in the setting sun and finally gave way to a sliver moon, which had now become the only light of the night.

There was not a single star that evening, the night Megan parted from Lily's company and was kindly escorted, along with her other first-year companions, to the small boats that surrounded the shore of the Black Lake by gamekeeper Robeus Hagrid, a very nice half-giant with a black beard and very thick hair Meg did, however, make another pleasant acquaintance: a blond-haired little girl, Pandora Lestrange, was sitting next to her, staring at her with a sweet smile. "Braids should be accompanied by daisies, you know?" she whispered gently. Little Gold, instinctively, touched her hair, not knowing what to reply, she merely introduced herself, with a handshake to sanction the moment. Pandora had with her a cage with a red and ultraviolet hummingbird, which sat quietly on its wooden rod. "Cavillus Amedeus, it's a little lame, but we're working on it!" In fact, Meg noticed that one paw was shorter than the other. The rite of passage for the novices was soon over and Meg breathed a sigh of relief, the water unnerved her after all, in fact she stared, the whole time, at the lantern light Hagrid was carrying.

In the Great Hall, they were greeted by Professor Minerva McGonagall, whom until then Meg had only seen in pictures, thanks to her mother. She was exactly as she had seen, very stern and with a maternal aura; she looked a little younger in person, and the professor's shining eyes flickered toward her, triggering in Meg the feeling that she had sensed that same look in the past. There were no stars that evening, the night Megan Gold again met the principal, Albus Dumbledore, who sported a discreet smile as he settled behind the lectern decorated with a huge gold-plated owl. Again, for during her childhood Albus had been a fairly constant presence. Well that very evening her sorting by the Talking Hat took place, which, settling on the child's hair, had some hesitation. It must be said, first of all, that Megan was shy, and very awkward, her heart beating so fast the moment she sat down in front of everyone that it seemed to burn in her chest. She looked for Lily's gaze among the students at the Gryffindor table, above which hovered candles with warm flames, in perfect contrast to those at the Slytherin table, with cool greenish flames and crystals in rhombus shapes. Her new friend Pandora, sat from that evening at the Ravenclaw table, on which there were no candles hanging in the air but mini galaxies, which reminded Meg, vaguely, of the most beautiful painting-according to her-of a Muggle artist, 'The Starry Night'. The Hufflepuff table was very cozy, small magical seedlings draped gold flying vases with white geese perched on them, all adorned with a sunflower that served as a bonnet, favoring an entirely fairy-tale view to those who admired them.

The characteristics of the four houses were not unfamiliar to Miss Gold: Gryffindors were those distinguished by courage, chivalry, a sense of justice, and nobility of spirit; Slytherins were the most ambitious, cunning, and shrewd, but above all, perfectly focused on their goal; Ravenclaws, on the other hand, favored creativity, wit, wisdom, and a thirst for knowledge; and finally, Hufflepuffs were known for their hard work, loyalty, dedication, and patience. Megan felt she had things in common with more or less all the houses -but what characteristics were preponderant in her? She certainly did not lack creativity, she did quite well in drawing and creative writing, and she loved reading and feeding herself with new knowledge. Ambitions? Meg called them 'dreams to achieve', however, this did not exclude her strong determination. Loyalty was paramount in any kind of relationship, despite her young age, she was very clear about what kind of person she wanted to be, and she

undoubtedly would never think of betraying anyone in any way and never for anything in the world.

The Talking Hat began his speech, making the little girl gasp. "Great creativity and curiosity, maybe too much I would say...big, big dreams and lots of power...let's be judicious, uh? OH! But here's your true nature, I see...immense nobility of spirit, you are extremely brave, and...for Godric's sake, watch your sense of justice, it may backfire. Spirit of sacrifice, I foresee difficult choices, you will be more inclined to take slightly circuitous routes. Well...without further ado...GRYFFINDOR!"

A smile appeared on Meg's face, accompanied by applause at the house table where she had just been sorted, and of course she took her seat next to Lily. At the teachers' table, the principal's blue eyes shone with joy and pride.

There were no stars that night.

Hogwarts (Meg)

I spend the vacations in the castle, in Dumbledore's office, together with my old bed and my old books. Amazingly...my writing is still intact, my notes have not faded, and they are useful to refresh my memory before starting the new year again.

After finals I told Draco that I was going home to Ireland to my ailing old relative, but I never actually left here.

You may be wondering why I don't answer the owls right away, but Dumbledore has provided for that too: I don't know what spell he used, but I still get the owls, even though Draco sends them to my fictitious address, it takes time but they still get to me.

Draco is so crazy about me that all he does is write to me that he misses my smile, our kisses, and my biting sarcasm.

How can you blame him, right?

I watch the sun through the big window, wishing I were out there.

Dumbledore, however, doesn't make me bored; on the contrary.

Every afternoon he offers me an aperitif, complete with Muggle wiskey for me and good tea for him, for both chocolate frogs.

"I have noticed that Mr. Malfoy writes to you very often, and very long missives. Poor Draco, when he finds out everything, he will be hurt." the principal says, petting the ruby phoenix on the perch, Fanny, has just regenerated and her bright, intense eyes seem to be watching me disapprovingly.

"I can't feel sorry if I don't feel anything. So, enough about Draco, it's nagging and boring enough."

I light a cigarette, and Dumbledore tightens his lips.

"Let's talk about your exams and the fact that you didn't open book, but you got high grades." Dumbledore whispers, as ash falls on my floor freshly polished by the janitor, Filch: his stupid cat Mrs Norrys constantly annoys my Wendy.

"I have my old notes and then-I've already studied that stuff! Billions of times! Just rely on my intellect and it's done!"As I speak I grab a chocolate frog and eat it, then I look at the wrapper and a few memories come flooding back. Without a shadow of a doubt Dumbledore understands on the fly.

"Those are the best memories associated with a dessert, aren't they? They stand for intimacy and complicity, the treats!" he then enunciates, and I roll my eyes at the golden ceiling.

"Too bad I can't taste it!" I blurt out, crumpling the wrapper.

I lean forward in my chair; Albus has known what I want to know for weeks now. "Harry how is he? You know very well that Petunia hated Lily, why entrust him to them!"

Dumbledore lowers his eyes to the notepaper in front of him, sighing, and the picture to his left shakes his head, I think it's Phineas Nigellus... Black, in a sumptuous, dark suit and grayish beard. I raise my middle finger at him, making him so indignant that he walks away.

"Rude," Albus observes.

"He'll get over it; he'll be whining in his hardened pureblood drapes. So, Percival, Harry? If I had returned in time I could have adopted him! Or better, keep my friends from dying, I would have tried anything. Instead, no."

"So they would have killed you right away, Meg," he reasons. «Vernon Dursley may be a miserly warthog, but at least no one risks his hide. The son Dudley is a bit of a bully, but our Harry stands up to him. Petunia of the rest can't hate him he's his own flesh and blood anyway."

"You know damn well that blood has nothing to do with it, and you know damn well that he's lived eleven years in the basement closet, it's mistreatment, abuse and the list goes on, you name it, , I demand that those pieces of shit respect Lily's son, got it? Or I'll pay little Dudley a little visit, reducing him to a fag butt." I put out my cigarette in the brass ashtray shaped like an owl, somewhat reminiscent of the statue put in front of the passageway to access the principal's office: the updated watchword is 'green tea and cucumber soap', a nice phrase so as to make those who want to access it more impatient.

"In due time you will understand, and don't you dare brush those suckers off."

"I know very well what happened that night... more than ten Muggles blown up, when Voldemort killed my friends. You-you know it couldn't have been him, right? Sirius... Sirius would never betray them, I know that. He loved them, they were our family, and now ... I don't know where he is, falsely incriminated." I bite my lip, looking at my pointed shoes, shiny black.

"Everyone believes it was Sirius who betrayed them, because everyone believed he was the secret keeper, the only one who knew the Potters were staying at Godric's Hallow. Voldemort used someone, I told you, Peter Pettigrew. We know the truth but ... the newspapers, the Ministry ..."

"Screw them, all of them. As soon as I find Sirius we'll prove it," I stand up. "If you had told me about the Sirius situation earlier-"

"You would have risked it by going after him, we're always back to square one, get over it."

I puff audibly, taking another cigarette, while Fanny gives me one more scornful look.