Kindred Spirits

On August 28th, James was consumed with excitement. He'd woken up at six in the morning - even earlier than his usual six and a half alarm - and bolted down to the kitchen to wolf down his breakfast. Then, he'd rushed back up to his room, thrown on the first pieces of clothing he could find (which happened to be a Puddlemere United jersey over a red pair of shorts) and picked up the enchanted mirror - one of a pair - that he used to communicate with Sirius.

"Mate, wake up! Today's the day," he screamed into the mirror as soon as Sirius' sleepy and disgruntled face appeared on the glass.

"Merlin's saggy left testicle, James, what are you doing calling me at seven in the fucking morning?" Sirius cursed at him. He sounded groggy and his eyes weren't even properly open yet. He had clearly not gotten out of bed.

"Didn't you hear me? Today's the day!" James cheered, ignoring Sirius' bad mood. "Ry's coming!"

"And how does this warrant this rude awakening at - and I repeat - SEVEN IN THE MORNING?" Sirius demanded.

"Aren't you excited?" James continued, completely unbothered by Sirius' yelling.

"It's too early for me to be excited. Give me another three hours and I promise I'll be bouncing around like a rogue bludger," Sirius mumbled, sarcasm dripping off his every word.

But if James noticed Sirius' sarcasm, he didn't show it. "I can't wait for you to meet Ry, mate. You'll love her."

"Not if you don't let me sleep," Sirius grumbled again.

"I'm serious," James insisted.

Through the mirror, James could see a tiny smirk blossom on Sirius' sleepy face. "No, I'm Sirius."

James gave his friend a deadpan look. "Oh, I see. You're in the mood for terrible jokes, but you're not in the mood to meet my sister? Noted."

Sirius sighed. "I'm sure your sister is great, James, and I'm looking forward to meeting her on the platform."

"On the platform? What d'you mean? You'll get to see her in Diagon Alley today," James frowned.

"No, I won't. I told you, mate. Mommy dearest won't let me come. She already sent Kreacher to buy all of our school stuff."

"But that's insane!" James exclaimed.

"I warned you," Sirius chastised his friend. "Coming to your house over the hols meant that I wouldn't get to leave the house again until September 1st. Walburga won't even let me out to the gardens."

"Cruel woman," James complained.

"That she is. Deranged, too," Sirius added.

"So you really can't come meet my sister today? Not even for a moment?" James asked, with a lilt of disappointment in his voice.

"I really can't. Walburga's got Kreacher guarding my room at all times except lunch and dinner," Sirius explained, rolling over in his bed.

"How about during lunch, then? Can't you sneak out using the Floo Network?" James insisted hopefully.

"All Floo channels are closed during lunch and dinner. She knows all my tricks by now," Sirius sighed.

"That's miserable," James commented dejectedly.

"Life at the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black tends to be miserable," Sirius agreed. "But, hey, have fun at Diagon Alley today, and give your sister my regards."

"I will," James nodded. "Stay strong, mate. It's only three days."

"Three long days," Sirius grunted.

"Goodbye, drama queen," James rolled his eyes and put the mirror away. Sirius' image soon faded from the glass and the connection was cut off.

He placed the mirror on his nightstand and fell back on his bed. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, unmoving. It'd been so long since he last saw Ryan - like really saw her. When they were kids, before Hogwarts and Ilvermorny, they were the best of friends. They rode their brooms around the house together, went to joke shops together, played Quidditch together (since they both favored the Chaser position, they took turns being each other's Keeper). And on the few times when they fought, they would make up the next morning and play together as if nothing happened.

Ryan was his twin flame - literally. Not only did they look similar, but they had matching personalities, too. They were both mischievous spirits, who loved to prank people and pull practical jokes. They had a recklessness about them that was both worrying and endearing at the same time. And they loved the world - my, they loved everything. James and Ryan loved to see the positive aspect of life. They found happiness in all things - big and small - and they made the best out of any situation. They liked to go on adventures and break any rule they could. They were partners in everything. Until Ryan went to Ilvermorny.

Try as he might, James couldn't understand why Ryan chose to go to that school. Their parents had gone to Hogwarts and they'd told their kids tales of the magical castle and the wonderful times they had in it. Fleamont and Euphemia told them how they fell in love at Hogwarts and how they blossomed into better people during their time there. And yet, despite all of the high praise their parents gave Hogwarts, Ryan still chose to go off on her own and study at Ilvermorny.

James could still remember the time that she announced it to them. It had been a sunny Tuesday afternoon in the middle of July, when Ryan had come down from her bedroom holding a massive blackboard and chalk. She'd sat Fleamont and Euphemia down and then proceeded to give them a lengthy one hour presentation on why Ilvermorny was a mervelous institution and why she wanted to attend school there, instead of Hogwarts, Touched by all the effort she put into the presentation, Fleamont and Euphemia agreed to her proposal without much hesitation.

From that moment and onwards, James and Ryan started drifting apart. They didn't really fight about it, and James didn't tell her about all the reasons why he didn't want her to leave and go off to America, but as time passed, the two just naturally gravitated apart. With Ryan spending all of the school year overseas and a great part of her summers in America, they didn't get to see each other as much. James made friends out of Sirius, Remus and Peter and began hanging out with them more over the summers instead of visiting Ryan, and Ryan, too, was too pre-occupied with her own friends and, apparently, her yearly "misadventures".

They only really saw each other during Christmas and spring break and then a week or two over the summer, whenever they'd go on family vacation with their parents. They always had a grand old time whenever they met in the holidays, but there was always this little gap between them - the fact that they led different lives and wanted for different things. It was never the same as when they were little.

James hoped Ryan moving back could change that. He hoped that when she saw Hogwarts and acclimated to the new environment, they could be back to their old rhythm. They could prank together again and, surely, Ryan could join the Gryffindor Quidditch team - because Ryan, as a Potter, would of course be sorted into Gryffindor. He wanted nothing more than to have his sister back. Nothing. And with that delighted thought, he drifted back off to sleep.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was to the voice of his mother, calling him downstairs. "James, dear, come on down! We're going to be late! Your friends will be waiting, and Ryan, too!"

James jolted up and out of his bed. He blinked the remnants of sleep out of his eyes and rushed down the stairs. The moment had come. He burst into the living room where both his parents were already waiting for him.

"What took you so long, son?" Fleamont laughed at James, who scrambled to reach for the Floo powder up on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Doesn't matter," James answered hurriedly, buzzing with excitement. "Come on, let's go!"

"You go ahead, James. We'll be right behind you," Euphemia smiled at him kindly.

James didn't hesitate. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he stepped into the fireplace and yelled, "Diagon Alley!"

The familiar swirl of Floo travel didn't bother him nearly as much as it usually did. He closed his eyes and opened them again only when he popped out of the fireplace at Flourish and Blotts. He stood up and dusted himself off. Without waiting for his parents to appear by his side, he burst out of the bookshop and into the busy streets of Diagon Alley.

He looked around, trying to find a familiar figure in the crowd. He was sure he looked like a mad-man to all the passersby, with the way his head was swivelling around madly, but he didn't care. All he cared about was -

"Heya, mate. Whatchu lookin' for?" James jumped nearly ten feet in the air at the sound of Peter's voice.

He turned to face his friend, who he noticed was joined by Remus, and sighed, "Give me a warning next time, Pete. You scared me half to death."

Peter raised his hands defensively and mumbled, "Sorry. Didn't know you were such a scaredy cat."

"I'm not a scaredy cat, Pete. I'm a proud lion," James boasted (though a bit absentmindedly - as if his mind was pre-occupied) proudly.

"Well, hello, proud lion," Remus teased, giving James an amused look. "You looking for your sister?"

"Yeah, but I've no idea where she is," James said with a tinge of worry in his voice. "What if she got lost? I mean, it's been a long time since she last came here. Or maybe she forgot the brick combination to get through the wall. Or maybe she ran out of Floo powder!"

"Or maybe she's a bit late?" Remus suggested. "You have to relax, James. She'll be here."

"Of course she's late. Typical Ry," James muttered to himself affectionately. His sister did have a knack for being late to places. Either she overslept, or she couldn't find the jumper she wanted to wear or she-

"Hey, is that her?" Peter suddenly asked, squinting at a far off point in the distance.

"Where?" James all but yelled, turning his head around so fast that it could have fallen right off his shoulders. His eyes found the place where Peter was looking at and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

In the distance, James could just make out Ryan's messily layered black hair, and her thick rectangular glasses that made her eyes look a thousand times bigger than they usually did. He could see her confident walk and her bright smile. And before he could even think, he started running.

He ran and ran and ran and Ryan was getting closer and closer and closer. He saw her running, too, while maneuvering through the busy street. And then, he felt hands wrap around his neck and he was sure that all was right in the world.

As he held his sister in his embrace, and felt the familiar tickle of her hair on his face, and smelled that scent of hers that he knew by heart, he wanted for nothing more than to stay with her forever.

The two of them hugged for a long time, right there, in the middle of the street. Passersby looked at them funny, but neither of them cared. They just hugged, and occasionally laughed nonsensically for no good reason. The two twins, reunited at last.

"Bloody hell!" They heard a voice in the distance that finally made them break apart. James saw Peter, hunched over with his hands on his knees, fighting for his breath. Next to him, stood an amused Remus, who was considerably less winded, but still trying to catch his breath. "Since when did you get to be so fast a runner, James?"

"I'd wager that years of Quidditch did the trick," Ryan said, smiling at James. Then, she turned towards Peter and Remus. "Hey, I'm Ryan. I'm guessing that you're Jamie's friends?"

"Yeah, that'd be us," Remus confirmed. "We're the loonies that hang out with your brother. I'm Remus and this is Peter."

"It's nice to meet you both," Ryan nodded with that same unwavering smile. Her smile, Remus noticed, looked... right on her face. It looked like a natural reflex - like smiling was the only natural state that Ryan Potter could exist in. It was a welcoming smile, warm and sweet. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be those Marauders James keeps telling me about, would ya?"

"That's us," Peter said proudly, puffing out his chest, as if being a Marauder was the world's greatest achievement.

"I didn't sign off on the name," Remus said in confirmation.

"You did too!" James jumped in. "Aren't you the one that suggested it?"

"No, actually, McGonagall suggested it. She called us Marauders once after a prank and Sirius liked it so much that he just sort of started calling us that and it stuck," Remus explained briefly.

"Sirius, eh? Isn't that your brother from another mother, Jamie? Where's he? Don't I get to meet him?" Ryan wiggled her eyebrows at James.

"He's stuck at home. His crazy mother has him locked up until term starts. You'll meet him at the station," James replied. "He sends his regards, though."

"And I send him my condolences," Ryan chuckled. "Now, uh, this reunion has been great, but I do actually have stuff to do here."

"Oh, right!" James recalled. "Mom mentioned that you need a wand?"

"I do," Ryan nodded. "D'you know any good places to get one?"

"Absolutely I do," James chirped. "Ollivander's is the place for you. It's where I got my wand, and mom and dad. Ollivander is a wand-making genius."

"Well, if he's such a genius, then we must pay him a visit," Ryan announced. She turned to Remus and Peter and asked, "you guys coming?"

"I'd love to, but I actually need to buy a couple things myself. My dad's waiting for me at Flourish and Blotts," said Remus with an apologetic look on his face.

"My mom's waiting for me, too. I have to go get a new cauldron. I blew the last one up during my Potions final," Peter declared.

"Oh, yeah, I remember that," James commented fondly. "Sluggy's face went all red."

"Who's Sluggy?" Ryan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll tell you on the way to Ollivander's," James said absentmindedly. "Alright, go and get your stuff done and we'll all meet back at Fortescue's in an hour. How's that?"

"Brilliant. See you then," Remus confirmed as he and Peter retreated back the way they came.

"Alright, c'mon, Ry. Ollivander's is this way," James beckoned his sister and started walking with a new spring in his step.

"But, mom and dad - I haven't seen them yet," Ryan told him as she followed meekly.

"You'll get to see them later. For now, we need to get you a wand," James brushed her off.

Ryan fell into step with him soon after. As they walked, she looked around at the many shops that Diagon Alley offered. It looked just as vibrant and beautiful as she remembered it to be.

"Your friends seem nice," Ryan started the conversation.

"They are," James confirmed, sounding very confident and self-assured in this declaration. "Wait until you meet them properly. They're real good fun, and they're also good people. Remus, you see, is really smart and he, like, loves books. He's also one of the most soft-hearted people you'll ever meet, but he'll never admit to it. Ever. He's also funny, but in a more sarcastic kind of way. It's endearing, really."

"Mhm, sounds great," Ryan nodded along, smiling at the fond way with which James spoke about his friends.

"And Peter is ridiculously funny. He's not the brightest, I have to say, but he has incredible comedic timing. He also has a massive appetite - you'd be absolutely floored at the amount of food he can consume in one sitting. He's overall just a good pal to have around," James explained briefly.

"Pal? Did I hear you say pal?" Ryan mocked, raising a questioning eyebrow at her brother.

"Yes?"

Ryan then laughed out loud. "Okay, grandpa. Who says 'pal' anymore?"

"I do," James sounded a bit offended. "And Sirius. Sirius says it, too."

"Oh, about Sirius," Ryan said, forgetting about their earlier debate over the word 'pal'. "What was that you said about his crazy mother?"

"Well, Sirius' last name is Black," James said plainly.

"Oof," Ryan winced. "Poor kid."

"Yeah, and his mother, Walburga, is the worst of them all. She must be clinically insane. Ever since he was sorted into Gryffindor, she's been keeping him locked inside the house like a prisoner."

"Wait, so Sirius, a Black, is in Gryffindor?" Ryan sounded incredulous. "I see why you like him."

"Yeah, he's great. I mean, he can be a git sometimes, and he does have a real affinity for drama, but he's my best friend, Ry. Practically my brother," said James with a note of absolute sincerity in his voice.

"That's great, James. Really," Ryan was sincere, too, but there was a tinge of sadness in her voice. "It's really great that you've found such good friends."

"And what about you, Ry? Any friends of note in America?" James asked good-naturedly.

Ryan's throat closed up at the question, and she felt a tug at her chest. Memories of all her friends at Ilvermorny, of Amara and Charlie and Theo, flashed before her eyes. And then memories of Alex, of his soft smile and his kind eyes, and his loathsome betrayal. She blinked away the emerging tears, cleared her throat and then spoke, "oh, um, yeah. I made a good few friends there, too. You'd have loved to meet them, too. I think you'd really get along."

"Why didn't you invite any of them to stay with us over Christmas?" James asked curiously.

"Dunno," Ryan shrugged. "It just didn't work out, I suppose. Some of them chose to stay at school, others wanted to spend time with family, and a few were... otherwise occupied."

"Occupied how?"

Ryan's stomach growled with dread again. That was a subject she wanted keenly to avoid. So, in an attempt to throw this conversation off its current course, she turned to her brother with an idle smile and said, "oh, before I forget - your friend Remus is a werewolf. Did you know?"

James stopped walking immediately, his previous question entirely forgotten. His whole body went numb and his eyes widened considerably. His blood ran cold and he looked at Ryan as if she were alien. Noticing his abrupt stop, Ryan stopped walking, too, and gave James a strange look.

"James? You alright?"

"H-How - What makes you say that?" James asked, tripping over his own words.

Ryan was about to answer his question, when her eyes wandered up to the sign of the shop they'd stopped in front of. "Oh, hey! Ollivander's! We're here!"

She pushed the door open and walked right in, leaving James with no choice but to follow her. Once inside, the twins saw a man with crazy wild hair sorting through a huge stack of papers strewn all around his wooden desk.

Ryan waited for James to say something first, but seeing his still flabberghasted expression, she decided to take matters into her own hands. "Err, mr. Ollivander?"

The man looked up sharply, looking startled, like a deer caught in headlights. His momentary confusion melted away seconds later and was replaced with a smile of familiarity. "Ah, miss Potter, I was wondering when I'd get to meet you. You're a bit of a legend, you know."

James gave his sister a confused look. A legend? Why would Ryan be a legend? But she offered no explanation. She just brushed off Ollivander's praise with ease, almost like she'd grown used to receiving such compliments over the years. "Well, my brother tells me you're a legend yourself. A genius wand-maker, he said."

"Ah, high praise, mr. Potter," Ollivander smiled at James with an eerie kindness. "I remember your wand. 11 inches, mahogany with a dragon heartstring core. Rather pliable, I'd say, and excellent for Transfiguration, is it not?"

"That's right," James confirmed absentmindedly, stealing glances at his sister every now and then, as if she were a puzzle he had to figure out.

"I remember your father's, too. 10.5 inches, holly with a unicorn hair core. A very consistent and reliable wand," Ollivander continued. "I wonder, miss Potter - is this your first time buying a wand? I think not."

"No, it isn't," Ryan nodded. "I bought my first wand from Shiboka Wolfe. 12 inches, hazel with an augurey tail feather core. Mr. Wolfe said that it was best for Charms and Divination, but I never had a gift for either practice, so I feel its potential was wasted."

"You're quite right, miss Potter. That does not sound like the right wand for you," Ollivander said, shaking his head in disdain. "I wonder what Shiboka was thinking, giving you a wand so unsuitable for your temperament. I am not at all surprised that you need a new one. Well, you needn't worry. We'll find you the right one."

Before Ryan could offer her thanks, or respond in any way, Ollivander disappeared behind his huge stack of papers. He re-emerged a couple of minutes later cradling a box in his arms. He took off the top and offered the wand inside it to Ryan.

"12 inches, rowan with a phoenix hair core. It's resilient and well-suited to a variety of different magical practices," he explained, as Ryan picked up the wand and gave it a whirl. Immediately, a tall stack of papers in the far corner came alight with fire. Ollivander yelped and waved his own wand to put it out. He looked back at her with wide eyes and muttered, "certainly not."

Then, he disappeared again. He came back with four or five different wands for her to try, but none seemed to suit her right at all. A half hour passed and they'd made no progress in finding her a wand. James, bored out of his mind, had slumped down on a dusty armchair next to the window. He was playing around with his patented Snitch, stealing glances at his sister every now and then.

"Found it!" Ollivander could be heard from a faraway corner. He returned holding yet another box in his arms. This one seemed dustier than the rest, as if it hadn't been touched since it was made. "This is one of the oldest wands I have in my inventory. I've been looking for the right owner for ages, yet none has come that I feel would be well-fitted for it. I thought you might like to give it a try, miss Potter."

"Doesn't hurt to try," Ryan shrugged her shoulders non-commitally. She picked up the wand and her eyes widened. It somehow felt... familiar. As if she'd held it before, or as if it'd been made for her. She gave it the usual whirl and a bright blue light shone from the tip. She looked at it with wonder and mumbled, "wow."

Ollivander chuckled. "Wow indeed. It is most impressive that this wand has finally found its owner."

"It feels so familiar..." Ryan trailed off. "Its power is so... What is it made of?"

"10.7 inches, elder with a thunderbird feather core. This kind of wand used to be very common back in the old days, but it's become unique ever since the thunderbirds became extinct. It's a very powerful wand for Transfiguration and it has a way of defending its owner in dire situations," Ollivander explained. "I thought the Thunderbird feather might be to your liking."

Ryan's eyes shot with recognition. That's why the wand's power was so familiar; it'd already been granted to her two years earlier. She smiled to herself and then to Ollivander. "Thank you, sir."

"No, thank you, miss Potter. I'm sure you're tired of hearing this, but you will do great things. Let this wand help you achieve them," said Ollivander, giving Ryan one of his most knowing looks.

Confused, James rose from his armchair. "What does that mean?"

Ollivander smiled. "It means, good luck."