Summer.
The morning air smelled of rain, crisp and cool as it drifted in through the open windows. Cassidy sat cross-legged on the floor of her mother's study, her hands resting on her knees. The wooden floor felt smooth beneath her fingers, polished by years of footsteps and whispered incantations. Shelves of old spellbooks lined the walls, but none of them would help her now. Wandless magic didn't come from words in a book. It came from within.
Her mother, Amira, stood before her, arms folded. She had an expression Cassidy knew well—patient, yet firm.
"I'm glad you're taking this seriously now," Amira said. "If you had listened to me last summer—"
"I know," Cassidy cut in, exhaling sharply. "Believe me, I know."
She had known, when she was pressed against the frozen ground by the lake, when the Dementors loomed over them and Harry's Patronus faltered. When she'd thrown up her hand and, somehow, pulled something from deep inside her. A flicker of power. A glimpse of what she could do.
It wasn't enough.
Her mother studied her for a long moment, then crouched down to Cassidy's level. "Wandless magic isn't just about force or talent. It's about control. When you cast a spell with your wand, it channels your intent. But when you cast without one, you are the channel."
Cassidy nodded, absorbing every word.
"The first thing you must learn is how to call your magic—not just when you're desperate, but when you choose to. It's like breathing, like moving your own hand. It has to feel natural."
Cassidy swallowed. "So... what do I do?"
Amira smiled slightly. "Start small." She lifted her palm, and a small flame appeared, flickering just above her skin. "Feel it. Call it."
Cassidy mirrored the movement, stretching out her hand. She could feel something, like a heartbeat just beneath her skin, but nothing came.
"Close your eyes."
She did. The room faded, and she focused on her mother's voice.
"Magic is part of you, Cassidy. It isn't just something you use—it's who you are. Feel for it, deep inside."
Cassidy took a breath. She thought of her wand, of the way spells formed so easily in her mind. She thought of the Dementors, of the cold that had seeped into her bones. She thought of how it had felt, that brief burst of light in the darkness.
A warmth bloomed at her fingertips.
Her eyes snapped open just in time to see a small, flickering glow hovering above her palm.
She gasped. "I—I did it?"
Amira nodded, pride shining in her eyes. "You did it."
The flame was weak, unsteady, but Cassidy didn't care. She grinned, tightening her fingers slightly to keep it steady.
Then—fwoosh. It sputtered out.
Cassidy groaned. "Are you serious?!"
Her mother chuckled. "Don't be discouraged. This is just the beginning."
Cassidy sighed but straightened her shoulders. "Alright. Again."
She wasn't stopping now. Not until she mastered this.
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Later on, Cassidy wiped her hands on her apron, sighing as she leaned against the counter. The late afternoon rush had died down, and the shop was finally quiet. Sunlight poured through the large windows, casting a golden glow over the shelves of brightly wrapped sweets.
Her parents' shop was always busiest in the summer—tourists, Hogwarts students, even the occasional Ministry worker looking for a treat on their break. Normally, she loved working here. It was hers. A piece of home.
But lately? Lately, she was dreading it.
She wasn't sure when she first noticed things shifting. Maybe it was the way strangers lingered when she spoke to them. Maybe it was how, just yesterday, a wizard in his twenties had tripped over his own feet while trying to ask her a question about sugar quills.
Maybe it was the way people looked at her now.
Not just glanced—looked.
It was unsettling.
She had always been pretty, even if that was.... debatable last year. But this was different.
It was like she was suddenly standing under a spotlight she hadn't asked for.
Cassidy grabbed a small mirror from beneath the counter and held it up.
She looked like herself. Dark skin, high cheekbones, full lips. Her hair, thick and coiled, was pulled into two space buns, a style she'd worn a thousand times before. But still...
She leaned in.
Her skin glowed in a way it hadn't before. Her hazel-brown eyes seemed brighter. Even the curve of her mouth, the arch of her brows—it was all still her, but something was sharper. More.
And then there was the other thing.
She stepped back and looked at herself fully.
She had filled out.
Her waist was more defined, her chest fuller, her hips curvier.
She wasn't mad about it. In fact, if she were being honest, she kind of liked it. But it was just so sudden.
Too sudden.
And that wasn't the only thing.
She'd caught herself doing things—things that weren't normal.
Last week, she had absentmindedly twirled a curl of her hair around her finger while listening to a customer, and he had gone completely blank for a full five seconds before shaking himself out of it and stammering through his order.
Yesterday, she had been annoyed with a man cutting the queue, and she had felt something—like a ripple in the air around her. The next second, the man had turned red, apologized profusely, and left without even buying anything.
Cassidy exhaled, setting the mirror down.
This was not normal.
She hadn't seen Hermione, Ron, or Harry all summer. Lupin (her godfather) had been sending her letters, as promised, but she hadn't been replying to her friends ones. At first, it was because she was just busy—the shop kept her occupied, and after everything that happened last year, she needed time to breathe.
But now?
Now, she was avoiding them.
Because what the hell would she even say?
A knock on the doorframe pulled her from her thoughts.
"Cass?"
Her mother's voice.
Cassidy turned to see her standing there, her expression unreadable.
"Come downstairs," Amira said. "Your father and I... we need to talk."
Cassidy stilled.
That cold weight settled in her stomach again. She didn't know why, but she suddenly had the feeling that whatever they were about to say—
It would change everything.
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"What?"
That was all Cassidy could say when her father and her mother, Joshua and Amira Sweet, sat her down to have "a talk."
If you may recall, last summer, Joshua and Amira Sweet seemed to be fussing over whether a particular gene would pop up in Cassidy. If you may recall, Cassidy noticed that a few boys were looking at her for longer than usual at the end of last year.
"So you didn't think to tell me this last summer? You know, when I was wondering if I was going to grow up or not?" Cassidy said, running her hands through her Afro.
"Cassandra, we didn't want to cause any unnecessary stress, especially if the gene didn't even pop up with you." Amira said gently, putting a hand on Cassidy's knee. "I'm sure nothing will be different. Your friends will treat you the same."
Joshua let out a dry, humorless laugh. "As long as they're witches that only like wizards."
Amira smacked his arm. "Joshua!"
But Joshua wasn't joking. He was staring at Cassidy with the same look she'd seen him give rowdy customers who tried to haggle down their prices—like he was two seconds away from throwing hands.
Cassidy groaned, pressing her hands into her face. "I hate this."
If you hadn't figured it out by now, Cassidy's parents had just told her that the earliest ancestor of the Sweets, whose name was lost to history, was half-Veela.
Now, being only a tiny percent Veela, Cassidy shouldn't have to worry.
...Right?
Joshua ran a hand down his face, looking miserable. "I can't believe this is happening."
Amira sighed. "Darling, it's not the end of the world."
Joshua looked at her like she had just said Voldemort wasn't that bad. "Not the end of the world? Amira, do you know how many boys are going to be looking at her?"
Cassidy frowned. "Dad, they already look at me—"
"Not like this." Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. "They're going to be staring at you like you're some—some—"
"Some beautiful young lady?" Amira supplied.
Joshua made a strangled noise. "No! Like—like they want something from her!"
He turned back to Cassidy, his voice sharp with worry. "Cassandra, you have to be careful. This isn't just some annoyance—this is dangerous. You don't know how men think."
Cassidy slumped in her chair, grumbling, "I was going to find out eventually."
Joshua's head snapped up. "Oh no. That place will be teeming with teenage boys. You're not coming."
Cassidy stood, indignant. "Dad, you can't just hide me from the entire male population because I'm a tiny bit Veela!"
"I can try." He replied.
"Joshua, don't be silly. She's coming, whether you like it or not." Amira said. Joshua simply scoffed, looking away.
Joshua crossed his arms, grumbling under his breath. "Just wait till some hormonal teenage boy tries something. I'll—"
Cassidy groaned, throwing her hands up. "You'll what? Glare them to death? Give them a stern talking-to? Merlin's beard, Dad, I'm not helpless."
Joshua scoffed. "No, but they will be when I'm through with them."
Amira sighed, shaking her head as she stood up. "Honestly, Joshua. She's going to the World Cup, and that's final."
Cassidy smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Yeah, Dad. Guess you'll just have to deal with it."
Joshua narrowed his eyes. "Fine. But if I catch a single boy looking at you for too long—"
Cassidy cut him off with a dramatic gasp. "Merlin forbid a boy actually looks at me." She placed a hand on her heart mockingly. "What a crime."
Joshua pointed a finger at her. "Not funny."
Amira patted his arm, amused. "She's growing up, love. You'll survive."
Joshua grumbled something unintelligible and stormed off toward his study, muttering about teenage boys and "unnecessary Veela nonsense."