They were woken before sunrise by banging on the front door of their little house.

"Sleeping," Aurora muttered, rolling over. The banging grew more urgent. Dominick pulled on a shirt and made his way to the door.

The men at the door were white. In uniforms. With guns. One shone a light into the house that stung Aurora's eyes. "Who's that in there?"

"My little sister," Dom replied. "She was up very late last night."

"She's got to get up," the man replied. He held up an official-looking document. "Resettlement."

"Re-" Dom squinted at the papers. "We weren't told." He glanced back at Aurora, who was now wide awake.

"Not my fault," said the officer. He hefted the rifle on his shoulder. "Ten minutes. Understood?"

They were shunted onto a rickety truck with a dozen Muggle families, a sack of hastily-chosen belongings in Aurora's lap. She reached into the sack, slipped her fingers around her wand. It felt tingly, newly-chosen a few weeks earlier, from the sangoma in the center of Johannesburg. He had been old, with papery yellow-brown skin and grey eyes: the sort of man classified Coloured under Apartheid. But he didn't seem to mind helping a Black girl find her first wand, and carefully wrapped his fingers around hers to show her how to grip it. "Wildesering," he had said approvingly, as she felt the warmth flow from the right wand. "Twelve inches. Coelacanth scale core."

Now, she gripped her wand tightly, looking up, keeping her eyes on the familiar stars.

When the trucks rumbled to a stop, the guards waved for people to disembark.

"Where are we?" Dom asked the less-gruff of the guards.

"Soweto," answered the guard. "Welcome to your new home."

The new home was shared with two Muggle families. Aurora and Dom had to be careful about their wands. They couldn't use light at night: there was no Muggle electricity, so if they had working lamps, people would have grown suspicious.

Worse yet, The roof was too thin for Aurora to stargaze; the Muggles could hear the thumping from below. The alleys between homes were too narrow, nothing overhead but a tiny strip of sky. Dom kept asking her if she was all right, she kept telling him she was, but she slept too much and barely picked at her food.

And then one night, she was shaken awake. She roused herself quickly, startled and frightened that it was another relocation.

It was only Dom. He tossed her her jacket, and motioned for her to be quiet as they left the house. He led her down silent streets until they came to a strip of green grass with an open sky above: a park.

Aurora pointed to the sign posted on the edge of the grass.


"Dom, the sign. We can't be here."

He smirked, and waved his wand over it. "What sign?" he asked, as it vanished from sight.