June 19th

"Ding-dong!"

The doorbell rang like tiny churchbells that had just been stirred to life by the lightest nudge. The sound was soft, as though the bells had wrapped themselves into a comfortable layer of soft dew-feathers, only to be awakened from their deep slumber. On this particular afternoon, the house was otherwise empty of sounds and the music that often streamed through it was missing from the air. A soft thump followed the sound of the doorbell, and light footfalls approached.

Outside stood a small lady. Well, not small, but just short enough to be considered standing at less-than an average height. She had a pair of brown spectacles which were shaped like the suitcase she carried in her left hand; in her right, a black umbrella. Thin, white gloves covered her hands and she wore a fashionable, black rain-frock, and her black shoes were slightly muddy from the approach to the house- it had been raining most of that morning, after all.

The rain hadn't been able to touch anything above the shoes though, and she looked like she had just stepped out of a car, though there were none to be seen or heard in the little street behind her. Her black hair was set up in a tight knot and she looked like someone who goes straight to the point in a conversation, with creamy skin that was tightly drawn over her features, and thin, pursed lips.

"Are you Vinter Fuglesang?" The lady had a surprisingly pleasant voice as her green eyes were lowered to the little girl in the doorway.

The girl gave a quick smile as she responded, "Vinter Fuglesang Wrede, yes. That's me. Who are you?"

The lady's thin lips slowly crept upward and she seemed to appraise the girl for a moment or two before answering, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, young Miss Vinter. My name is Sophie Cross, and I come from the--"

"Who's at the door, sweetie?" The woman was interrupted by another voice chiming from inside of the house, and soon a bohemian-looking, messy-haired woman came to stand behind the girl; the mother, presumably. She looked at the suitcase-holding lady that was standing outside and offered a welcoming smile, "Hello, may I help you?"

"Yes. You must be Nevena Fuglesang?" The lady extended her white-gloved hand to the woman, who, slowly, extended her own, bare hand, and there was a brief moment of quiet confusion before the lady introduced herself again. "It is good to meet you, Mrs. Fuglesang. My name is Sophie Cross, and I come from the--"

"Wrede. Nevena Wrede. I've remarried." Nevena interjected quickly, but seemed unphased by the mistake.

"Ah, we did not know that. My apologies. We are of course aware of your husb-- Vinter's father's accident some years back." The lady, Sophie, spoke faster now, as though in an attempt to avoid further interruptions so early in the afternoon. "I am here to follow up on the invitation Vinter received about a week ago. May I please come in?"

The lady took one step inside the living-room, the carpet was quietly thankful that she left her muddy shoes in the hallway. She took in the living-room with one brief glance of her green eyes from behind her brown spectacles; carpets of summer-sky blue stretched across the floor, walls painted in a warm golden-brown, a myriad of interesting paintings-- all unmoving --and furniture of which no one piece matched each other. She nodded to Nevena, "Colorful. Homely. Good. Let us get down to business shall we?"

The little girl that was standing as perfectly still as she could muster, nearly held her breath. She stood in the hallway just beyond the doorway that lead to the part of the living-room where her mother and the mysterious lady were getting seated. She knew that she couldn't be seen at this angle, but being heard was another thing. On this particular afternoon, the house was slumbering, after all.

"I am not quite sure why you are here, Miss Cross," she could hear her mother's voice from around the corner. "Is this about the audition next week?"

The lady slowly peeled the white gloves off of her hands and shook her head, pulling her briefcase up to snap the dual-locks open. "No. I come from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You did receive our letter, yes?"

The little girl could feel the steady drums in her ears and every necessary breath turned into a loud tornado in her throat as she lurked and tried to be as quiet as mice-- now, mice are not necessarily that quiet, but I suppose it is a saying of sorts. For a minute she thought she was going both deaf and mute as the sounds within overflowed the voices in the other room. She then held her breath to silence the storm and the rhythm in her head, just for a moment, but soon found that air does not particularly like being compressed and would do anything to try and escape--

The visiting lady quickly snapped her head toward the doorway in a hawk-like manner, or perhaps it was more in the style of a bloodhound that had just found the number one clue in a mystery puzzle. "I believe that your walls have grown a pair of tiny ears, Mrs. Wrede."

Vinter's dark-brown, near black eyes went wide. She had almost coughed, just almost, yet not made a sound, and yet the lady knew she was there? How on earth was that possible? She slowly let out the most silent breath she could manage and eased herself along the wall, away from the little corner at the doorway.

Nevena followed the lady's glance, looking mildly confused between the "Witchcraft and Wizardry" bit, and her the notion of the walls growing ears. "... one moment, please."

"But, but... but mom!!"

"No protests now. Go to your room and focus on your homework until I call you for dinner."

The long tube of steps leading down to the decorated basement sounded angry beneath the girl's feet as she stomped downstairs.

"I apologize. She's curious by nature. What was that about... a school of...?" Nevena sank down into the couch again, her skepticism alight in her dark eyes and bronzed features as she returned her attention to the visiting lady that had called herself Sophie Cross.

"I am surprised by your reaction, Mrs. Wrede. Did not Mr. Fuglesang notify you upon your daughter's birth? She has the potential- and you should know this, it comes from your side of the family too..."

The lady paused momentarily as she took in the many different expressions of confusion that she could read on Nevena's face, but she bluntly continued. "Your father's mother, to be more specific. Her family dwelled near the township of Vidin, Bulgaria, just at the border to Romania, am I right?"

She could easily tell that the girl's mother was not impressed, by far. In fact, it looked almost like she was about to toss her straight out the door.

"... ex... -cuse me?" was all that Nevena managed to utter, looking at the mysterious lady in utter disbelief. How a perfect stranger could hold such details was beyond her- and it was making her skin crawl.

Sophie quickly opened her briefcase and promptly took out a folder with a small print that almost seemed to have a moving, flowing print. "Fuglesang" it read. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wrede. This must be a lot for you all at once. Here are the documents that your ... that Vinter's father filed and had approved with the Ministry of Magic eleven years ago. You can find his signature at the bottom. I am a bit confused though, that her father would do so without your knowledge...?"

It was at this moment that something seemed to go very wrong with this conversation. The bohemian woman that sat in the couch aside of the mysterious lady suddenly snapped and swiftly brushed aside the folder, sending all kinds of paper flying about the room-- and they were, in fact, literally flying. Some took the shapes of paper-planes and delicately floated back into Sophie's briefcase, others, not so technical, found their way back to the briefcase by some manner of invisible breeze that gently pushed them along.

"How dare you come into my house with such lies? Do you think I am stupid? If my dead husband had done anything in regards to our daughter, HE WOULD HAVE TOLD ME!" Nevena was fiery red from her chin and all the way up to her forehead and she looked like her whole head was going to pop like a balloon any second as she shouted at the lady which was still sitting perfectly still on the couch.

"What is worse, is that you seem to think that I am going to buy all of this! What are you after? My daughter?!"

"Nothing of the sort, Mrs. Wrede." Sophie said calmly in a mellow tone. She let her hand slip out from underneath her briefcase, and nestled in her hand was what looked like a thin, wooden conducting baton. Nevena's eyes followed the whirly swing it took and suddenly the pieces seemed to fit, if not perfectly, at least a bit better. Something her father had always told her seemed to be pulled out from the back of her mind, and something that Vinter's father had whispered to her one evening was floating like gentle ghosts among her memories. All of which she had forgotten many, many years ago.

The young girl could hear precise steps descend the stairs toward where she was sitting in the room below. Her dark eyes were immediately drawn toward the source, the mysterious lady. Her fashionable, black raincoat was gone, and she was wearing a very pretty dress-suit that made her look all secretary-like. Or perhaps like teachers would look, she imagined, many years in the past.

"Hi."