Sadie's family is poor. Dirt poor. Poverty-stricken. However one wants to describe it, in terms of money? They have no money.

That wasn't always the case. Sadie's grandparents, secretly magical, were quite successful, raising a small fortune for their family, which, even divided amongst their children, resulted in a sizeable inheritance. Sadie's parents, unlike her aunts and uncles, squandered it.

At first, it was well-meaning squandering. A family vacation on occasion, buying a large family house on the coast, and even buying a car. But then, the question of 'more' arose more and more often.

'What if we could double our fortune?' Sadie's mother had insisted.

Gambling is risky business best avoided. Before long, a family with a sizeable house, a nice car, and a generous savings account became a family with a moderate house, a weathered car that was once nice, and an empty bank account.

Suddenly, clothes became a shared commodity. Parents went hungry so that children could eat. Every sibling got through primary school and secondary school as ends met with frayed edges.

Comfort was a luxury that couldn't always be afforded, but when older children could take care of younger children while the parents worked, and school supplies and clothing could be shared amongst the siblings, things always worked out, if not neatly.

Sadie's admittance to Hogwarts was not only a surprise, but a sower of the seed of worry to her parents. Now those books which Sadie's older siblings had passed down for years were not only outdated, but completely worthless. She needed new supplies. New clothes. New everything.

She got what she needed, of course, but she wasn't blind to the way her parents had to do without to make it happen. She overheard many conversations late at night about loans and borrowing money that filled her chest with burning shame and guilt for the magic she was apparently capable of.

The first time she tried on the brand new robes from Madam Malkin's, the soft fabric felt unbearably heavy on her shoulders. The wooden wand from Ollivander's felt like solid cold in her hands. She held the books from Flourish and Blotts to her chest as a mother would hold a child.

Sadie felt dirty. Underserving. After all, why would she deserve such pristine supplies when her siblings were wearing school uniforms that had more patches than their roof?

She swore that she would never forget that feeling of shame and guilt, and she would, one way or another, become a successful witch and bring her family the financial stability they deserved.

For some children, breaking a window with a ball is a rite of passage. The child must grapple with the urge to hide their mistake, but the knowledge that it cannot truly be hidden, and they must come clean.

Sadie, like many children, was throwing a ball with her younger brother. She was a mere eight years old at the time, and her brother was going on six. They were throwing the ball in the yard, laughing as they found more and more creative ways to modify such a simple game.

Her brother threw the ball with his eyes closed. Then Sadie threw the ball under her leg, eliciting a laugh from her brother. This game evolved and evolved until, at last, Sadie tried throwing the ball to her brother between her legs, with her eyes closed, and her back turned. He laughed, as usual, but Sadie could never have possibly aimed the ball well with such a ridiculous throw.

The sound of glass shattering sobered Sadie right up from the intoxication of fun, and her laughter morphed to absolute horror as she saw the broken window on their house.

Even at eight, Sadie understood that their family couldn't afford to fix a broken window, and winter was coming up, so she knew her parents would be angry, disappointed, and, above all else, worried.

Sadie cried and begged her older siblings to help her fix it, but none of them knew how, if it was even possible. In the end, Sadie duct taped a blanket over the window with the intention of telling her parents the truth when they returned home from work.

She tearfully explained that the window was broken as soon as they walked in the door, but, miraculously, when she pulled the blanket off the window, the window was whole once more. Her parents laughed and praised her imagination, while her little brother swore to never tell anyone, thinking she had super powers.