Five years had passed since I last saw Gloria, and my magic still hadn't appeared. That didn't mean I'd stopped learning—not at all. I was a learner at heart. If I'd been reborn into the Harry Potter world, I would've been a Ravenclaw for sure… or maybe a Slytherin.
Learning had been such a constant in my past life that I'd even made it my profession. I was a college professor—Occult Studies, but still a teacher nonetheless.
So even without grimoires to read, spells to practice, or magic to wield, I kept myself busy. Sure, my free time included sleepovers with Caroline and Elena (they were a package deal), but most of it was spent learning.
The first thing I did was recreate my fantasy library. I already owned the first five Harry Potter books and was eagerly awaiting the next one—and the first movie. I had the first three Secret Circle books, Maguire's Wicked, and the complete Chronicles of Narnia.
But witches and magic weren't my only obsession. I collected Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire series, Darren Shan's Cirque du Freak, the first four Sookie Stackhouse novels, and even Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake books (mostly for the smut, let's be honest).
If you opened any of those books, you'd find notes scribbled in the margins. I mined them for ideas—spells, potions, magical theories—things I planned to try once my powers finally surfaced. My diary, once filled with canon knowledge of the future, was now crammed with experiments I wanted to attempt. Ice magic like the White Witch or Elsa. Elemental combinations straight out of Naruto. Jutsus, even. Most of it probably wouldn't work, but I wanted to try anyway.
My father and Grams were definitely freaked out by my love of the supernatural. I'm pretty sure seeing me read Harry Potter and Wicked gave them heart palpitations. But they never said a word—not even when they caught me watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Charmed, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
And books weren't the only thing I'd been working on. I started a secret magical garden in the woods near our house. Small for now, but I planned to grow a vast collection of herbs. I'd already cultivated Vervain and Wolfsbane, thinking ahead.
I also convinced Sheila to let me take Aikido classes near Whitmore College. She was hesitant, but Rudy was all for it. Every dad wants his little girl to defend herself. I wasn't a master, but I could throw a grown man to the floor. Not bad for a thirteen-year-old girl—or a forty-three-year-old woman, depending on how you counted.
Then came the computer. I begged, cried, and Rudy caved—he loved buying my affection. With it, I started online language courses. I already knew Spanish, Latin, and French from my old life, so I added Czech (remembering that Travelers used it for spells) and Portuguese (close to Spanish and Latin). I could hold conversations in both, so I considered that a win.
Most recently, I'd learned how to pick a lock. Rudy was off who-knows-where, Sheila had a class at Whitmore, and I was home alone. Perfect timing. I'd been planning this for years: breaking into the attic. The attic where Abby kept her witch things. The attic Sheila had locked up after Abby left.
It took me twenty minutes, but I finally cracked it. And they say the internet corrupts young minds. Please.
I slipped inside, shut the door, and exhaled in relief. The room looked like something straight out of Charmed. There was even a stand perfect for a grimoire—or in my case, a pink Disney princess diary with a heart-shaped lock. Don't judge. I got it as a kid.
The attic was full of magical herbs, stones, candles, tomes, athames, even an old cauldron. I was about to explore when the wind shifted. A clicking sound echoed, and a tome on the stand opened by itself.
"Holy shit," I squealed, jumping back. I hadn't even noticed it was there. This was straight out of the first Charmed episode.
Heart pounding, I approached the dark leather-bound book. Relief washed over me when I saw no triquetra on the cover. Good. I hadn't dimension-jumped into the Charmed universe. Vampires, werewolves, hybrids—I could handle. Demons and Whitelighters? Hard pass.
I reached out. The moment my hand touched the cover, the talisman on my ring finger trembled with delight. Every candle in the room flared to life.
I laughed, pure joy bubbling up.
"Hello, magic."