You know what? Being a kid is complicated. I don't want to hear any of that 'you don't have to pay the bills' or 'you don't have to worry about feeding your family.' Maybe we don't. But you know what we do have to go through? At home, there is the fact that, if we live in a harmful, abusive, or upsetting environment, there is nothing we can do about it. Even if it doesn't happen to every kid, it would still suck. Once you get past that, there's the bullying. And let me tell you something coming from personal experiences, it sucks. Kids are mean. They're so cruel. They don't give up.

Not to mention the transition from elementary school to middle school. I don't want to go there. To be honest, I'd rather be home schooled. But… my dad (well, adoptive father) won't let me. He doesn't know about the bullying, and I haven't exactly told him yet. I really just don't want him to worry; he has enough on his plate. He's Iron Man, for god's sake! He doesn't have time to worry about me.

Go ahead and ask. I know you want to. It's the one question I'm always asked.

What's it like being Tony Stark's daughter?

I've got a large, crazy, and loving family. I've got a lovely home, and food on my plate. It's not bad, being Tony's daughter. But, unlike many people tend to think, it's not all it's cracked up to be.

I constantly worry about Tony, and Steve, and Thor. For some reason, I don't worry that much about Natasha, but that's mainly because I know that she can (for sure) take care of herself. Unlike dad, he hasn't given me a reason to be upset and scared for her yet. That's the keyword. Did you catch it? Yet.

You see, a while back (four years, to be exact), my dad had to go overseas for business. Everything seemed normal. I mean, it's not exactly rare for him to have to go overseas. He is Tony Stark. I remember how I hadn't wanted him to leave, but I couldn't expect him to drop everything for me. Especially when it had to do with Stark Industries!

Long story short, Tony nearly didn't come back. At all. And he wouldn't have returned at all, had it not been for the iron suit that he made. I know that dad can take care of himself, he's a fully grown adult, so that should be obvious. But I can't help but feel like one day, he won't come home. Ever. I've already lost my real parents (apparently), but I am not going to lose Tony too.

Anyways, back to why being me is insanely difficult.

About a month ago, a strange old man wearing a long blue robe appeared at our door. Apparently, he was wanting to speak to me about some school in Scotland. But, with dad being dad, he was very protective and nearly didn't let the man in until he knew that the man wanted to talk about a school.

"I'm sorry, what boarding school is this again?" Tony demanded. "I've never heard of it, and as JARVIS has already said, there's no records."

The old man sighed and took a seat on the couch. Even from the other room, I could tell that dad wasn't particularly happy with this man.

"As I have stated already, Mr. Stark, it is a very exclusive private school in Scotland. Unfortunately, I am unable to give you the full details without your daughter present. Her absence is making this much more difficult-"

"Than it needs to be. I know. Don't get your knickers in a twist, Gandalf."

Dad rolled his eyes and reluctantly called for me.

"Rosie, this is…" Tony looked toward the stranger for a moment once more. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?"

"Rosalie Lily Potter-Stark?" The man confirmed. I nodded.

"Y-Yes?"

"I am Professor Albus Percivel Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but just call me Professor Dumbledore for short."

"Hello, Professor." I greeted, moving up to stand next to dad. "May I ask why you're here?"

He chuckled and reached inside his robe and pulled out a single letter.

"This letter will explain it all, my dear."

Hesitantly, I reached for the letter and flipped it over onto the front, which had my name (minus the "stark" part), the Avengers Tower's address, my floor, and exact room! But… how…? I flipped the envelope over slowly, and my eyes gazed at the lettering on the red wax seal. Hogwarts? What's that?

Dad sat down on the couch, right beside me, and read over my shoulder.

"Alright, and the fact that they know your exact room isn't creepy at all," He glared. "Exactly what kind of game is this to you? Hogwarts? There's no such thing." He laughed. "What sort of name for a school would that be, anyway? I mean who just looks at a school and goes 'Hmm, what would be a good name for a school? Somewhere parents will definitely want to send their kids? I know! How about Hogwarts!' It just doesn't happen."

I took a deep breath, slightly freaked out, and opened the letter.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." I read out loud, causing dad to frown.

"Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supereme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)."

I looked up at dad in confusion, and then toward Professor Dumbledore. "Witchcraft and Wizardry? Like magic?"

The professor nodded. "Yes, Ms. Potter. Real live magic."

I continued reading.

"Dear Miss Stark,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraftand Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on the 1st of September. We will await your owl by no later than the 31st of July.

Yours sincerely,

Professor McGonnagall

Deputy Headmistress"

"Okay, dude. You're crazy. You're literally insane. Magic does not exist." He stood up, put a hand on my shoulder, and ushered me behind him. "What sort of sick joke is this? All of this hocus pocus crap isn't real. Even Rosalie knows that; she's not five years old anymore."

"Mr. Stark, I can assure you that this is no joke. Miss Potter, have you ever made anything strange happen? Perhaps you didn't know it was you, or perhaps you did. Maybe it happened when you were frightened or upset. Something broke, yet nothing broke it? An item disappeared, only to reappear in a different spot?"

I nodded quickly. "I-It was when dad went MIA a few years ago… I was scared and… one day, I just- I made a flower pot explode. I-I don't know how. I thought someone else broke it at first but… I was the only one there until Aunt Pepper ran in. Nothing was thrown at it…. It just broke."

Dad paused, then shook his head. "If magic is so real, show us some, Houdini."

The old man sighed, and nodded his head. A long, thin, stick of wood slid out from the sleeve of the man's robe, and he gave it a wave. He said something under his breath, but it was so quiet I couldn't hear it. Almost instantly, my old teddy bear was floating about five feet in the air, and counting. I gasped in surprise, while dad's eyes widened.

"S-So… I'm a-"

"A witch, yes. In a few weeks, we will send a professor to show you where and how to get your supplies. The train to get to Hogwarts can be found at King's Cross Station in London, England. Your ticket is in the envelope along with your supply list. All you have to do is run straight at the wall between platforms 9 and 10, if you were wondering."