The Daughter of Valancaire

The week had passed in a haze of new information, and I had barely come to grips with everything that had changed in my life. The morning sun was beginning to climb higher, casting a golden glow over the breakfast table as I sat with my parents, the warmth of the meal grounding me in the present moment.

My mother was beside me, her soft laughter filling the air as she spoke with my father about plans for the day. She looked beautiful as ever, her golden hair shimmering in the light, and her verdant green eyes filled with warmth. I felt a quiet comfort in her presence, but a part of me still longed for the connection I had lost. The connection to my brothers, to my twin, Jace.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, my father’s voice broke through, calm but carrying a hint of something I couldn’t quite place. He had been unusually quiet the past few days, absorbed in matters only he seemed to understand.

"Jessa," he said, his tone gentle but firm, "I know how eager you are to see your brothers, and especially Jace. The truth is, they returned to their schools earlier than expected."

I blinked, surprised. "Earlier than expected? Why?"

My father sighed, the weight of the decision evident on his face. "There were things they needed to attend to at their schools. Responsibilities that they couldn’t delay. But when they heard you’d woken up, they all wanted to return immediately. Your brothers wanted to be here with you, to support you through this transition." He paused, his dark eyes meeting mine with a look that carried both authority and tenderness. "But I forbade them."

I stared at him, trying to process his words. He had forbidden them? I wasn’t sure whether to feel comforted or conflicted by his decision.

"Why?" I asked quietly. "Why wouldn’t you let them come back?"

My father leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him, his gaze steady and filled with the wisdom only a parent could possess. "Because you need time, Jessa. The world you’re about to enter—Hogwarts, the magical world—is vast and complicated. You need to adjust to it first. Your brothers love you, and they’ll come when it’s the right time. But for now, it’s important for you to understand who you are, on your own."

A knot formed in my stomach, but I could sense the truth in his words. The last few days had been a whirlwind of information and new beginnings. I hadn’t yet processed all the layers of my family’s past, the curse, or even what it meant to be a Valancaire. Maybe he was right.

"Do you think I’ll be okay on my own?" I asked softly, the uncertainty in my voice betraying me.

My father smiled, a reassuring look crossing his face. "You’re never truly alone, Jessa. You have us, and we’ll be here for you every step of the way. Your brothers will come when the time is right. But for now, I want you to focus on preparing for Hogwarts. That’s where your path leads next."

I nodded slowly, trying to make sense of it all. I longed to see my brothers again, especially Jace. But I also understood my father’s reasoning. Hogwarts was waiting for me. My brothers had their own responsibilities, their own lives, and so did I. 

"Jace," I murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I thought of him. "How is he? How is he feeling about all of this?"

My mother’s face softened at the mention of his name. "Jace has been asking about you every day, Jessa. Ever since we told him you had woken up, he’s been eager to know when you’ll join him at Hogwarts. He misses you terribly. He’s always been so protective of you. But he knows, just as your father does, that you need time."

My heart swelled with a mix of emotions. *Jace misses me*. I felt the bond between us, even without having spent years by his side. He was my twin, the other half of me, and the idea that he had been thinking of me so often filled me with a strange sense of longing and excitement.

"He’s been so patient," I said quietly, my voice thick with emotion. "I can’t wait to see him again."

"You will," my mother reassured me, her eyes full of love. "And when the time comes, it will be a reunion you’ll both remember. But for now, focus on the journey ahead. You have so much to discover about yourself, about the magical world. And Jace, he’ll be waiting for you when the time is right."

The weight of her words hung in the air, but there was a sense of quiet understanding between us. I wasn’t ready yet to join Jace at Hogwarts. I still had so much to learn about myself, about my family’s legacy, and the world I was about to step into. But one thing was certain: *I wasn’t alone*.

My father looked at me with an encouraging nod. "The start of the new term is approaching. I’ll make sure you’re prepared. When the time comes, we’ll arrange a meeting for you and your brothers, but for now, focus on getting ready for Hogwarts."

I smiled softly, feeling the weight of everything ahead of me. The idea of Hogwarts felt both thrilling and terrifying. There were so many unknowns, so many pieces of my past I still hadn’t uncovered. But I had my family—my mother, my father, and the knowledge that, when the time was right, Jace would be there waiting for me.

"I’m ready," I said, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside me. "I’ll do this. I’ll go to Hogwarts, and I’ll meet Jace when the time comes."

My mother’s face brightened with a proud smile, and I could see the approval in my father’s eyes. They understood the weight of this decision, but they also understood the importance of giving me space to grow, to find my own way in this new world.

"We’ll be with you every step of the way," my father said, his voice filled with conviction.

And with that, the decision was made. I would take the next step in my journey. Hogwarts awaited, and so did my twin, Jace. And when the time came, I would finally be reunited with him.

---

September 1st was fast approaching, and the excitement in the air was palpable. The new term at Hogwarts was almost here. I could feel the tension building in my chest—part nervous anticipation, part excitement. I was about to enter a world I knew only from stories and the fragments of memories I couldn’t quite piece together. But more than that, I will be going to school for the first time. I would be starting as a fifth-year student, the same year Jace was in, and though we hadn’t seen each other in so long, it felt like fate was pushing me to catch up quickly.

My mother, as always, was beside me, helping me prepare for the upcoming term. Today, we were heading to Diagon Alley that catered specifically to students like me—the ones starting a little later than usual.

I had never been there before, but I knew it was filled with shops that specialized in magical textbooks, rare ingredients, and specialized equipment that could help me get back on track quickly. The alley was quieter than the main stretch of Diagon Alley, but it still buzzed with the anticipation of new students preparing for their school year.

"Don’t worry, darling," my mother said, her voice warm and soothing as she led me into a small, bustling shop filled with books and magical gadgets. "You’ll catch up in no time. Your father’s lessons were thorough, and with the help of these books, you’ll be back to your old self before you know it."

I nodded, grateful for her reassurance. My father had made sure I was well-versed in magic during the few weeks I have been *awake* teaching me everything from spell theory to potion-making and even some of the more obscure branches of magic. But as both of them said -- the experience of real classroom learning—the kind that came with real students, real professors, and the kinds of magical interactions that only Hogwarts could provide.

I was a fifth-year student now, the same age as Jace, and though I had the knowledge, I knew that the social aspect, the experience of learning alongside other witches and wizards, would be a challenge. But my mother was right. With my father’s education, I was better prepared than most.

We entered **Merlin’s Manuscripts**, a charming old bookshop that was renowned for its selection of magical textbooks. The air inside was thick with the scent of aged parchment and leather. A chime echoed through the air as we stepped inside, and the elderly witch behind the counter looked up, her bright blue eyes sparkling beneath the silver strands of her hair.

"Ah, Ms. Valancaire," she said, smiling warmly at my mother. "I see you’ve brought your daughter in to stock up for the new term. I believe we have just the right books for her, don’t we?" She gave me a kind smile, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary, but not uncomfortably so.

"Yes, thank you," my mother replied, her voice always calm and gracious. "Jessa is starting as a fifth-year, so we’ll need everything for that level. She’s already well-versed in much of the theory, but it’s the practical application and the classroom experience she’ll need to catch up on."

I could feel the weight of her words sink into my chest. I wasn’t just starting at Hogwarts; I was starting at a school where others had already had four years of experience. The pressure of it was both daunting and exciting.

The witch behind the counter led us to the farthest corner of the shop, where the textbooks for each year were neatly arranged. The books seemed heavy with knowledge, with magical histories and lessons I could hardly wait to dive into. I could already imagine the weight of them in my arms, the feeling of turning the pages and finally stepping into the magical world that had been waiting for me.

As my mother and the shopkeeper chatted, I wandered over to a display of enchanted quills and parchment, my fingers lightly tracing the edges of a beautifully crafted writing tool. It was strange to think that, in just a few short days, I would be writing my first notes at Hogwarts, learning alongside other witches and wizards who had already made their marks in the magical world.

"Here we are," my mother’s voice brought me back to the present, and I turned to find her holding a stack of books in her arms. "I’ve made sure to pick up your textbooks for Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. You’ll also need this one for Defense Against the Dark Arts, though your father may have already given you some supplementary materials for that subject."

She placed the stack of books on the counter, and the shopkeeper added a few more volumes to it before wrapping them in a heavy cloth for transport. I looked at the books, my heart racing. *Fifth-year textbooks*. *Real textbooks*.

My mother handed me the cloth-wrapped bundle, her hands light with care, and I tucked it under my arm, feeling a sense of purpose wash over me. "Thank you," I said to the shopkeeper, who nodded with a warm smile.

"Good luck, Miss Valancaire," she said. "I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully at Hogwarts. The Valancaire legacy is a strong one, after all."

I couldn’t help but smile, a tinge of pride warming my chest. My family’s legacy, while heavy at times, was also something that defined who I was—who I was meant to be. And now, it seemed, I was ready to walk down that path, alongside the students who had been there all along.

But there was one more stop to make before we left Dragon Alley, and it was a stop that filled me with equal parts wonder and anxiety: **Ollivanders**.

The moment we approached the narrow, ivy-clad shop, I felt a strange fluttering in my chest. Ollivanders was legendary, known across the wizarding world for crafting some of the finest wands. I had heard the stories of people who had walked into the shop and found their perfect match, the wand that seemed to choose them as much as they chose it. I had always wondered what kind of wand would find me.

My mother gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, her golden hair sparkling under the sunlight. "It’s a big step, darling," she said, her voice soft. "But don’t worry. Ollivander will find the perfect wand for you."

Inside, the air smelled faintly of wood and spice. Shelves of wands—some in velvet-lined boxes, others exposed—lined the walls, each one beckoning with its potential. Mr. Ollivander, a tall, silver-haired man with a penetrating gaze, appeared almost immediately as the bell above the door chimed.

"Ah, Ms. Valancaire," he said, his voice like velvet, though there was a sharpness in his eyes as he turned his gaze toward me. "And this must be your daughter. Jessa, is it?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling very small under his scrutiny. Mr. Ollivander’s eyes seemed to pierce through me, as if he was searching for something deep within. After a long moment, he smiled.

"Come, come," he said, waving me over to a wooden counter where a selection of wands rested in neat rows. "Let’s find the right wand for you, my dear."

My heart raced as I stepped forward, unsure of what to expect. Mr. Ollivander reached behind the counter and pulled out a slender wand, carefully presenting it to me.

"Here, try this one," he said, handing me a wand with a dark, gleaming shaft.

I took the wand in my hand, and for a moment, nothing happened. The silence hung heavy in the air.

"Not quite," Mr. Ollivander murmured, setting the wand aside with a thoughtful expression. "Let’s try another."

This continued for what felt like hours. Wand after wand, none of them felt right. My hand tingled with the weight of them, but nothing sparked.

Then, with a glint in his eye, Mr. Ollivander reached up to a distant shelf and pulled down a wand that seemed to hum with a quiet energy. It was different from the others.

"Try this one," he urged me, his voice calm but knowing.

I hesitated for just a second before taking the wand in my hand. As soon as my fingers closed around the smooth wood, I felt a surge of energy. The wand seemed to come alive in my hand, humming with power, as if it were meant for me all along. A sharp warmth surged from my hand to my fingertips, and I couldn’t help but smile.

"It’s perfect," I whispered, the words tumbling from me with a sense of wonder.

Mr. Ollivander watched me closely, his pale eyes glinting. "Ah, I see you’ve found your match. Ash wood, quite sturdy and strong. But the core..." He paused, letting the weight of it sink in. "This wand has a **dragon heartstring**

 core. A rare choice, but a powerful one. It will certainly help you channel your inner strength. I believe this is the one."

"Dragon heartstring?" I repeated, not entirely understanding. "What does that mean?"

Mr. Ollivander smiled, his voice filled with quiet pride. "A dragon heartstring core is known for its power and its connection to the wild, untamed magic of dragons. It’s known to produce wands that are incredibly loyal to their owners, but also ones that respond best to their emotions and intentions. Your wand will grow with you, Jessa. It will help you channel your true strength as you continue your journey."

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within me. This was my wand. And with it, I was ready to face whatever Hogwarts had in store for me.