Today, Blythe Fairchild knew, would be the first day of the rest of her life, however this discussion went. Her O.W.L.s had arrived that morning—mercifully, her aunt had been out—and the Hufflepuff had opened them tentatively, praying even in that last moment that the Lord had been kind to her. He could have, Blythe discovered with dismay, been kinder. Though her circumstances were not altogether hopeless, the prospect of watching Davinder depart for Hogwarts in September while she herself remained home in Swallowbury weighed heavily upon her chest.

Aunt Temperance had returned home in due course, but Blythe had allowed the formidable woman to settle herself, become content, before daring approach.

"Good afternoon, Aunt," she greeted with a demure smile as she entered the sitting room. Knowing full well that the woman was not fond of beating around the bush, Blythe—with only a brief hesitation—handed the woman the fateful parchment. "My O.W.L. scores arrived this morning."