Lena had long since stopped believing in magic. It ended one September evening of seventh grade when she failed to find a letter to Hogwarts in her letterbox. Now seventeen years old, she walked through the grey courtyard of her estate, dodging a clutch of pigeons and loudly chatting neighbours, with a head full of tests and unfinished projects. She stopped in front of the basement door of the block - the one she had always avoided. They were old, covered in graffiti and rust stains. Her mum had asked her to carry old books down there that she no longer read. She sighed and pressed the cold handle. Inside it smelled of dust and something else.... like ozone after a storm? Lena set the cardboard box on the concrete floor and looked around. The incandescent lamp on the ceiling was flickering nervously and shadows seemed to move across the walls. Someone must have been here before her, though - there was a scattered packet of chalk on the floor, and on the wall Lena saw a strange drawing: something like a map of the housing estate, only with places she'd never seen marked - 'The entrance behind the arbor', 'The old well', 'The door that doesn't exist'. As she knelt down to take a closer look, she heard a muffled sound from the end of the basement corridor - as if someone had lightly pushed open a metal door. After a moment of silence, Lena heard a whisper: - Don't be afraid, after all you can see more too. Her heart beat faster. When she raised her gaze, she saw between the shadows the silhouette of a boy in a dark sweatshirt whom she had never met here before. The door at the end of the cellar swung open of its own accord, and a strange light flashed from behind it....