Soft tapping at the window was the long-practiced cue for Vanyel to draw back the curtains and let Lissa in.

She handed him a plastic container of unidentifiable stew-like substance and he pulled a fork out of his bottom drawer to eat it with.

"There were enough leftovers there that nobody will notice," she reassured him. "And they'd probably think it was Meke anyway. He ate two bowls."

"Thanks, Liss," he said, digging in hungrily.

She waved it off. "You'd do the same for me."

"I don't know how Dad ever expects me to make the football team if he keeps sending me to bed with no dinner," muttered Vanyel, in between bites.

Lissa laughed and hugged him loosely around the shoulders. "Our father's crazy," she said. "At least Mum was happy with your music marks."

"Dad wasn't," said Vanyel. "I'm good at that. Why isn't that good enough for him? Why are sports the only thing that matters?"

She hugged him again. "Cheer up," she said. "It's your birthday tomorrow."

"I don't think turning eleven is going to change anything. Dad gets all disapproving whenever I mention it."

Lissa frowned suddenly. "Does he?"

Vanyel drew back a little.

"No, Van, it's just... he acted really weirdly when I turned eleven too. The entire day he seemed like he was waiting for something terrible to happen."

Vanyel attempted to drag his memory back to Lissa's birthday. It just seemed like a normal day to him. They ate Lissa's favourite meal,. she had a little party, they exchanged presents. "Do you know why?"

Lissa shook her head. "At the end of the day he just seemed relieved. And he hugged me."

Huh. That was strange. Withen hardly ever displayed physical affection towards his children.

"I bought you something you'll like, promise," said Lissa. "And I'll come by before breakfast to give it to you so you don't need to show Mum and Dad."

Lissa was the best. "What is it? Is it music?"

Lissa laughed. "You wait and you'll find out tomorrow, brat."

Vanyel grinned at her. "But I want it now!"

She ruffled his hair. "I'd better get back to my room," she said. "You want me to take the container?"

Vanyel shook his head. "I can sneak it back tomorrow."

Lissa carefully levered herself out the window so that she could edge along the windowsill to her own room. Vanyel locked the window carefully behind her.

He hid the container and fork in his bottom drawer and got dressed for bed. He thought it would take him a long time to fall asleep, now that he was actually looking forward to his birthday, but it was almost instant.

--

"Van," said Lissa's voice quietly. "Happy birthday!" She shook him gently and he came awake, blinking.

It took a moment for her words to sink in. Then he noticed the heavy weight on his middle. He sat up quickly. "Liss— is this..."

"Just open it!" she said.

It was pretty obvious from the shape of it what it was, but he eagerly unwrapped the guitar anyway. The outside of the case was a basic black plastic business, but inside was a perfect treasure. It was a rich, creamy brown and he wished he dared try it out right now. "Liss, how could you even afford—" He started to tear up.

She hugged him. "Don't worry about me," she said. "I got a good deal."

"Thank you," he said, feeling completely inadequate.

"Are you going to name it?"

Vanyel looked at the guitar thoughtfully. "I'll think about it," he promised. "A beautiful lady like that needs something special."

"Well, let me know when you figured it out."

Vanyel held the guitar, trying out fingerings without strumming. "She's perfect."

"Mum will be calling us for breakfast soon," said Lissa regretfully. "So you hide that under the bed with the others."

He nodded and put it back in its case. He laid her gently with the ukulele, fiddle and other instruments he'd managed to secretly gather over the years. He'd had a deal with the cleaning lady for years, and she'd never betrayed him.

Breakfast was a mishmash of Vanyel's favourites, and nobody even tried to make him eat fried tomatoes.

After breakfast, Vanyel went through the small pile of envelopes his mother handed him. They'd all be from family, of course - Vanyel didn't have any friends who would think to send a card - but it was almost fun to see what kind of bland, inoffensive messages his various relatives could think of to send him. Most of them even managed to spell his name correctly.

"What an interesting envelope," said Lissa, picking one off the pile. She was the only one of his siblings that had stayed; the others having wandered off to do things more interesting than watch their weedy brother open mail. "It almost looks hand-made. Who's it from?" She turned it over and read the return address. "Oh! Aunt Savil. I didn't realise she sent birthday cards."

Withen let out a choked off yell, and Vanyel looked up to see his face turning black as thunder. "Give that to me!"

He didn't even wait for a response, snatching the envelope from an utterly dumbfounded Lissa.

Vanyel blinked. He'd always known there was some friction between his father and his oldest sister, but this was... ridiculous.

Lissa circled a finger around her ear and mouthed 'crazy'.

Withen bustled out of the room, Treesa trailing after him asking in bewildered tones what was wrong.

"I think that was the last— oh, no, there's one more," said Lissa. "I didn't see it at first."

She handed him another envelope.

"It's not a card, it's a letter," said Vanyel, taking it out and unfolding it carefully. The paper was strangely smooth, the handwriting spidery and a little hard to read. He read the letter once, then again. He sighed inwardly. This had to be a prank... but one that would have required an unusual amount of effort for any of his brothers.

"What does it say?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Vanyel read out loud, just as his father walked back into the room.

END