Unseen Footsteps

School was awful. Every day echoed with the chatter of five-year-olds, each babbling about the fascinating tales of their day in a language only comprehensible to their peers. Her eyes glazed over as the teacher animatedly discussed the alphabet, counting, and the wonders of show-and-tell.

The monotony grated on her.

The other children in her class tried to talk to her in the beginning, but her friendly but distant responses succeeded in warding them off. This meant that during the breaktime she was free to hide away in the more secluded areas of the play-yard to experiment with magic.

She was good with the levitation and lighting charms by now. Next on her list was the locking and unlocking spells. There was a shed in the corner of the yard that she practiced on every day, determined to keep going until she succeeded.

Wandless magic was a struggle though. It took her weeks or sometimes months at a time to see a spell show the slightest effect. It left her frustrated and exhausted more often than not.

After school each day, she would spend two hours at the Williams’ home with Mrs. Williams and Robbie, chatting and eating biscuits. She had yet to meet Mr. Williams, but it was only a matter of time.

One day in early December, she arrived there from school to find Mrs. Williams in a state of distress. There was a furrow between her eyes which held a glint of concern. As Wendy approached, she noticed Mrs. Williams nervously wringing her hands.

“Mrs. Williams? Is everything okay?” asked Wendy with concern.

“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about dear,” murmured Mrs. Williams, placing a hand over the back of her head, “and I’ve told you to call me Ada.”

“But you’re upset!” cried Wendy.

Mrs. Williams shook her head.

“My husband has an important meeting with his bosses tomorrow, and I meant to iron out his best clothes this afternoon,” she sighed. “But I can’t get the iron to work. It’s been playing up for a while now but we don’t have the money for a new one, I just don’t know what to do.”

Wendy leaned around her to see the iron laid on its side on the ironing board, its cord tangled in a frustrating knot. Wendy’s empathetic nature kicked in, and she knew she had to help. Mrs. Williams has been giving her months of free babysitting after all, and she’d been looking for a way to pay her back.

She surveyed the situation, the non-functional iron, and the worried expression on Mrs. Williams’ face. “I might be able to fix it for you Mrs. Williams. I’m good with electronics.”

Mrs. Williams looked down at Wendy with surprise. “Oh no dear, I’m not sure that’s all safe. You might get electrocuted!”

“It won’t electrocute me so long as it’s not plugged in, I swear!”

“Well, if you promise that it’s safe, I don’t see why not.” The look on her face was clearly indulgent. She was only supposed to be five after all, and Mrs. Williams expected her to fail.

It took 30 minutes, a screwdriver set and a pair of pliers, but she did it. She plugged the iron into the wall, switched it on and handed it to Mrs. Williams.

She was both stunned and delighted. She stared at the iron in her hands, disbelief etched across her face. She hesitated for a moment before cautiously pressing the steam button. A soft hiss followed by a burst of steam signalled its revival. Wendy couldn’t help but beam with pride; she had done it.

Mrs. Williams, overcome with gratitude, embraced Wendy in a warm hug. “Oh, you’re just a little wizard with electronics darling! You’ve saved the day.”

Wendy blushed, a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction colouring her cheeks. “It was nothing really, I’m good at fixing things. I fixed the radio that Robbie and I listen to every day back home too. If you’ve got anything else here that’s broken, then I can fix it for you ma’am.”

Wendy and Robbie stayed well past their usual time, with Wendy tinkering away at various household appliances. Mrs. Williams even found their old toaster in storage which Wendy fixed for her.

Mr. Williams stepped into the kitchen hours later to quite the scene. The air was filled with the sound of cheerful chatter and the occasional clatter of tools. His eyes widened at the sight of Wendy, dishevelled hair and smudges of grease on her hands, surrounded by various bits and pieces of what used to be his coffeemaker.

Robbie was sat on the kitchen floor, banging at his makeshift drum set made of pots and pans while Mrs. Williams finished pulling dinner out of the oven.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, both amused and intrigued.

Mrs. Williams beamed at him. “Wendy here is a little miracle worker. She fixed the iron and even restored our old toaster – you know dear, the one you put up in the attic last spring. It’s like having a miniature handywoman in the house.”

Wendy looked up from her work, eyes wide with innocence. “I like fixing things. It’s fun.”

Mr. Williams chuckled, shaking his head. “Well then I should say we’re lucky to have you around Wendy, and it’s very nice to meet you finally.”

Wendy continued with putting the coffeemaker back together while the married couple chatted. She screwed the last panel back on before turning and handing it back to Mr. Williams. She hopped off her chair and headed to the sink to wash her hands.

“Y’know dear,” Mr. Williams began, “I was just talking to a coworker yesterday. Seems he got himself into a bit of a pickle with his television set. Had some handyman come in to fix it, real pricey white fella, but it broke down again within a week. Says he’s out of pocket and doesn’t know what to do.”

Mrs. Williams frowned, sympathy creasing her brow. “That’s terrible. People taking advantage like that. Do they have no shame?”

“I could fix it,” blurted Wendy, drying her hands. “I’ve gotten plenty good at fixing things, and I promise I won’t charge as much as that scammer did.”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Williams exchanged surprised glances before turning back to Wendy. Mr. Williams crouched down to her level, a warm smile playing on his lips. “Are you serious about this Wendy? It might be a bit of a challenge.”

Wendy nodded resolutely. “I’m sure. Besides, I like a challenge. Nobody should have to suffer because some crook decided to take advantage.”

Some more discussion and it was settled. Mr. Williams would discuss it with his coworker tomorrow, and Mrs. Williams would take her around one day that weekend to fix the television.

As Wendy and Robbie left Mrs. Williams’ house, a triumphant grin stretched across Wendy’s face. She was practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of earning some money of her own.

As they made their way back home, Wendy couldn’t contain it any longer. “Did you see their faces, Robbie?” she exclaimed. “They were so amazed that I fixed their stuff. And now I’m going to fix that television too! Mrs. Williams said I’ll get paid for it. I bet I could buy you some new toys with that money, hey buddy?”

Robbie was bouncing with excitement now too. “New toys!?” he shrieked.

Wendy laughed, ruffling Robbie’s hair affectionately. “You bet I am, Robbie. Pretty soon, we’ll have more money than we know what to do with.”

As they reached their apartment, Wendy sighed in satisfaction. She imagined all the magic books she would be able to buy with that money. As soon as she figured out where she could buy them, she was absolutely going to save up for one of those bigger-on-the-inside TARDIS tents she remembered from the movies.

In the words of Hannibal Smith, she loved it when a plan came together. Was that show even out yet? Wendy shrugged off the thought, focusing instead on the bright future that lay ahead.

As she settled into her makeshift study corner in the bedroom, Wendy pushed aside any lingering guilt about tampering with the iron. It had been a necessary step in her journey towards financial independence, she reasoned. She was doing what she needed to do to secure her and Robbie’s future.

It was with that final thought that Wendy settled in to read Practical Household Magic. Maybe she could try at some of those cleaning spells next.

That weekend, a delighted couple paid Wendy 10 shillings after she successfully fixed up their television. They couldn’t believe their eyes when she presented them with a fully functional television. Their gratitude was immense as they handed her the ten-shilling note, a generous reward indeed.

They weren’t the only ones to pay her either. Word of her prowess spread like wildfire through the neighbourhood, thanks to Mrs. Williams’ enthusiastic endorsement. Mrs. Williams had spent the whole week bragging to various neighbours and park-goers about Wendy’s technical prowess.

It turned out that Mr. Williams’ coworker and family weren’t the only black folk who had been scammed out of their money by white businessmen. Soon, requests for her services began pouring in from neighbours and acquaintances alike. Wendy found herself in high demand, her reputation at an all-time-high and growing with each successful repair.

Wendy felt a sense of accomplishment. It was a far cry from her days of scavenging for loose change in the streets of London. At the end of each weekend, she would make her way to Diagon Alley and to Gringotts, depositing most of her money into the vault and spending the rest of it on books for herself as well as the promised toys for Robbie.

The rest of her time was then spent studying magic. It didn’t take her long to master the locking and unlocking charms during school hours, so she quickly moved onto some of the household charms.  Her school days became a balancing act, with Wendy secretly trying to cast mending spells on her worn shoes and socks under the table.

She would’ve bought herself new ones, but she didn’t want Brenda getting suspicious and realising that she had the sort of money to afford those things.

Robbie had adjusted better than expected to being without her, he loved spending time with Mrs. Williams. She took him to the park all the time, and he had made friends with one or two of the local boys too.

While they were together at home, and Brenda was out who knows where, Wendy would work at learning the cleaning spells. She focused first on the spells for keeping their clothes clean. Ones that washed and scrubbed them, dried and folded them. It made a huge difference in the amount of free time she had; She’d missed having a washing machine and tumble drier.

After that, she moved onto the more general-use cleaning spells. The scouring spell managed to get the last layer of dirt off the bathroom tiles, leaving them a glistening white – although that was only after a few misfires, whereby Wendy accidentally flooded her mouth and was left choking on soapy water. The taste almost made her give up on the spell there and then.

She even tackled the living room, opening the windows to air it out alongside some overpowered scrubbing and siphoning spells. In the end, the living room was near spotless, the air crisp and clean with a hint of freshness that it likely hadn’t seen in decades. The carpet was a whole shade lighter than before, and the once-permanent stains on the armchair were near invisible. The sideboard gleamed. Gleamed!

What was a once lifeless space now pulsed with vibrant energy. Wendy walked over to the turntable and put on a Rolling Stones record she found in the cabinet, leaving it play while she prepared dinner.

Wendy hummed along contentedly.

Not ten minutes later, the apartment door creaked open, and Brenda staggered in, her presence disrupting the tranquillity of the moment. Her dishevelled appearance was a stark contrast to the now pristine surroundings, although for once there was no stench of alcohol to be found.

Brenda’s eyes widened in astonishment as she took in the living room, her eyes trailing from one side to the other. The gleaming surfaces and fresh scent seemed to bewilder her, and she turned to Wendy with confusion and suspicion.

“What happened here?” Brenda demanded. “Why’s everything so… clean?”

Wendy paused in her cooking, meeting Brenda’s gaze with a forced innocence. “Because I cleaned Mum.” She replied simply, trying to keep her tone casual.

Brenda’s brow furrowed, her mind seeming unable to comprehend the change. “You? Cleaned?” she muttered incredulously. “Since when do you care about cleaning?”

Wendy shrugged, avoiding Brenda’s probing gaze. “Just felt like it, I guess,” she mumbled, turning her attention back to the stove.

Brenda continued to scrutinize Wendy, her suspicions lingering like a dark cloud in the room. However, she seemed too tired to press the matter further. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she stumbled towards her bedroom, leaving Wendy to finish preparing dinner for her and Robbie by herself.

Wendy couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. This encounter had sparked a sense of uncertainty within her, a reminder of the delicate balance she maintained.

Years passed this way. A mishmash of magic and fixing appliances. She took out library cards for both Robbie and herself. They both became avid readers, with Wendy getting into all the classic fiction that she never got around to in her last life.

She coasted her way through primary school. It took her two and a half years before she saved enough money up to buy herself a tent that was bigger on the inside. There were other options in the shop she found – briefcases, trunks and wardrobes that had expansion charms cast on them, but she still settled on the tent in the end. It had two bedrooms (unfurnished), a kitchen, a bathroom, an office and a sitting and dining area. A lot of it was open plan, and no furniture came with it.

She knew she’d have to wait a while before she could fill it with furniture – she had something already in find to fix that issue.

She immediately started moving her books into the tent, piling them in stacks. She’d hadn’t been able to buy any new ones for over a year now, as she’d run out of space to hide them under the bed.

She’d been able to hide the magic nature of the books from Robbie in the past, but she knew now that she’d have to get him on-side, so to speak, for him to cover for her with the tent. A tent that was bigger on the inside was something she wouldn’t be able to hide from her brother.

She’d only taken him to Diagon Alley the one time to open the bank account, and he was too young at the time to still remember it now.

She was nine now, after all, and Robbie was five. He would be starting school the next week, and it was only two short years until she would be heading off to Hogwarts.

She waited until she was walking him home from the Williams’ that afternoon and made a short detour over to their favourite park. She sat him down on the bench and began to explain to him.

She made sure to emphasize to Robbie the importance of discretion. He took to it rather well – apparently, she hadn’t been quite as subtle as she’d thought, and he’d caught their clothes washing themselves more than a few times.

She kept the explanations as short and succinct as possible, with no mention of reincarnation. All he needed to know was that she was a witch, that she had magic, and that he was never under any circumstances to tell anyone about the things that she could do.

When they got home, Wendy’s heart was racing with anticipation. With each step, she stole glances at her brother, gauging his reaction to the impending revelation. He’d picked up on her anxiety, she could tell, and she could sense his curiosity bubbling beneath the surface.

She led him to the bedroom where the pale canvas tent stood between their beds in all it’s glory. She watched with bated breath as his eyes widened.

“You got us a tent!” Robbie cried, delighted.

Her lip quirked up. “Not just any tent.”

With a sense of trepidation, Wendy took his hand, guiding him through the tent’s entrance. Once he had stepped fully inside, Robbie shrieked. His eyes sparkled with excitement, his imagination likely running wild.

He ran around in circles exploring all of the different rooms, before running back to his sister and tackling  her at full speed.

“It’s just like the TARDIS!”

Wendy wheezed. She’d honestly forgotten that he’d been watching Doctor Who with Mr Williams.

She was quick to disillusion him to any ideas he was getting of space and time travel. Not that he seemed to care too much about it, he was still enamoured with the magic of it all in the first place.

With the tent in their possession, she got to work on purchasing more books.

In her efforts to map out Diagon Alley and all the surrounding streets, she’d found a variety of shops selling all sorts of wares. None of them that interested her at the moment, she was only interested in the bookshops she had found.

Between the two second hand bookshops, she had managed to accumulate quite a variety of books on magic. She especially bought plenty of books on the culture and etiquette of Magical Britain as well as their laws. She wanted to have a good grasp on her future social standing and legal rights, and she wasn’t impressed by them, frankly.

When it came to magic, she had especially gotten into Ancient Runes.

She figured out how to heat the apartment by carving runes into the bedframes and sewing them into the bedclothes. It was especially helpful during the winter months. She made a variety of protective charms.

The amulet she gave to Mrs. Williams, whereas Robbie was only ever given anklets.

The 60s weren’t all that accepting. It would probably be safer for her brother not to wear necklaces or bracelets, even if they were enchanted to hell and back to protect him.

She also found a way to carve runes into the inside of the bedroom door which subtly warded off everyone other than her and Robbie. She didn’t want to risk Brenda deciding to come into their bedroom one day and finding anything she shouldn’t. It made her feel much safer when Brenda brought people home too. As she’d gotten older, she had caught one or two of the men giving her looks that she wasn’t all that comfortable with.

What she considered the pinnacle of her runic achievements however, being her most complicated runic array, was the one she incorporated into every single pair of socks they own to prevent the absorption of water.

Never again would she walk through the freezing cold British weather with soaked-through socks. Never again would she accidentally step in a puddle and spend the rest of the day in a world of regret.

Although she did buy many books, she also made sure to keep saving her money too. It was a good thing she had, especially when Robbie came bursting out of school one day absolutely begging to be enrolled in piano lessons.

Luckily they were offered for cheap through the school, so it wasn’t exactly skin off her back.

Speaking of school, now that Robbie was attending, he no longer needed to be watched by Mrs. Williams every day. Not that that stopped them from visiting. They made sure to go to the Williams’ place for at least an hour after school every day, excluding the days when Robbie had his piano lessons.

Robbie going to school had made Wendy far more anxious than it made him. He already had local friends that he knew would be there too, so he was more excited than anything.

For Wendy, it reminded her that it wouldn’t be long before she was off to boarding school.

What was she thinking? How could she just up and leave Robbie alone for most of the year when he was so young? She had less than two years now before she would be leaving him.

The anxiety made her clingy, and for the following year Wendy found herself almost superglued to her brother, desperate to spend as much time with him as possible.

As her eleventh birthday approached, Wendy’s turmoil seemed to amplify with each passing day. The thought of leaving Robbie behind weighed heavily on her mind, casting a shadow over what should have been a joyous occasion. She couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, imagining her little brother navigating the world without her by his side.

Every mundane task became a reminder of the impending separation. She found herself lingering in moments, savouring each shared laugh, each quiet conversation, as if trying to etch them into her memory to last a lifetime. But no matter how tightly she held on, time continued to slip through her fingers like sand, each grain a stark reminder of the inevitable.

As her eleventh birthday dawned, Wendy woke with a heavy heart, the weight of her impending departure pressing down on her like a leaden blanket.

The sound of the owl pecking at the window drew her from her bed. She was numb as she lifted the window open, taking the letter from the bird and quickly slamming it shut again.

She tried to keep up a cheery demeanour for Robbie and his excitement, rushing her to get dressed so that they could head over to the Williams’ house to open her presents. He’d definitely noticed something was up though. He sent her concerned glances for the entire walk over.

She tried to muster a smile as she opened her presents, but the joy felt hollow. It was when she barely reacted to the new toolkit that Mr. and Mrs. Williams had bought her that Mr. Williams decided to drag Robbie out for a walk to get some last-minute treats.

As the door closed behind them, Mrs. Williams turned to her with concern.

“Wendy, dear,” Mrs. Williams began gently, her voice soft yet probing. “Is everything alright? You seem… upset”

Wendy forced a smile, but it felt brittle and strained. “Oh it’s nothing, Mrs. Williams. Just a bit tired, I suppose.”

But Mrs. Williams wasn’t one to be easily fooled. She reached out, gently placing a hand on Wendy’s shoulder, her gaze unwavering. “You know you can talk to me, right? I know you’ve always been a very independent girl, but whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone.”

Wendy hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. Taking a dep breath, she met Mrs. Williams sure gaze.

“I... I’ve been offered a scholarship,” Wendy admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “To a boarding school in the Scottish Highlands.”

Mrs. Williams’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she remained silent, allowing Wendy to continue.

“It… It’s an incredible opportunity,” Wendy continued, her worse tumbling out in a rush, her voice gaining a raspy quality. “But I can’t… I can’t leave Robbie. He needs me, and I just can’t.”

Tears welled up in Wendy’s eyes as she spoke, the dilemma bearing down on her with a crushing force. She had dreamed of attending Hogwarts ever since she realised the option was available to her. Of embracing the magical world that awaited her. Was rejecting the invitation even an option? What would they do if she refused to attend?

Mrs. Williams moved to sit beside her and took her hand. When Wendy fell silent, refusing to look up at her, Mrs. William pulled her into a comforting embrace.

“Oh, my dear Wendy,” Mrs. Williams murmured, her voice gentle yet firm. “You’ve shouldered far more than any eleven-year-old should ever have to. But you must understand, raising Robbie was never meant to be your responsibility. Now I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong; you’ve done a remarkable job looking after him darling, but you can’t hold yourself back for his sake.”

Tears bubbled up in Wendy’s eyes.

“How do you think your brother would feel, if he knew you were giving up something so special because of him?”

Wendy pulled away slightly, her brow furrowed. “But what about Robbie?” she whispered, her voice tinged with desperation. “He needs me. I can’t just leave him.”

Mrs. Williams sighed softly, her gaze filled with compassion. “Robbie isn’t alone darling, he has us. And all his friends and their families too! While he may miss you terribly, he will adjust, just as children always do. You deserve a chance to pursue your dreams, to embrace the opportunities that come your way.”

Wendy blinked back tears as the words sank in. She had never thought of it that way before, so consumed by her role as Robbie’s provider and protector that somewhere along the way, she had forgotten to consider her own needs and desires.

“I… I suppose you’re right,” Wendy whispered, her voice barely audible. “But.. but what if I’m not ready? What if I fail?”

Mrs. Williams smiled reassuringly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “Oh, my dear, you are more than ready. You must be the smartest child I have ever met. And as for failure, well, that’s simply a part of life. But you mustn’t let fear hold you back. Sometimes, the greatest adventures come from taking the biggest risks.”

With those words ringing in her ears, Wendy felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was ready to join the magical world after all.

That night, curled up in bed, she pulled the still sealed envelope out from under her pillow and began to pick it open with her nail. Pulling the letter out, she began to read.

“Dear Miss. Mitchell, we are pleased to inform you…”