Prologue
Dafnie Ricamry knew from a young age that she was different from the other children. She could make strange things happen when her emotions over-ruled her. When her parents didn't allow her to watch a certain program on the television, the channel would change to the one that she wanted to watch anyway. When the other children picked on her, their tongues would swell up and they were sent to the school nurse. Her parents were constantly making excuses for these occurrences, but even they were afraid to get on her bad side.
But the day Dafnie turned eleven, something rather unexpected happened.
It was a cool, grey day in March when Dafnie and her parents were getting ready to go out for her birthday dinner. Being a careless eleven year old, Dafnie hardly bothered with her appearance. Her dark, wavy hair was extra frizzy that day, and she didn't mind one bit. Her mother was always trying to get her to do something with it, but Dafnie didn't like to be bothered with things as trivial as her hair. She was waiting for her parents in the sitting room, reading a book, when there was a curt knock at the front door.
"Dafnie, dear, would you get the door?" her mother called from upstairs. Unlike her daughter, Mrs. Ricamry absolutely had to make sure her hair was tamed before she left the house.
Dafnie obeyed and answered, finding their visitor to be the most peculiar man she had ever seen. He was an extremely old man with long, white hair and a long, white beard to match. His blue eyes were twinkling behind moon-shaped spectacles, and instead of wearing normal clothes, he was wearing violet robes. At a first glance, Dafnie almost mistook him for the character Merlin from the story of King Arthur. She stared up at him for a few moments as he smiled down at her.
"Ah, you must be Miss Ricamry," he smiled.
Dafnie nodded slowly, wondering how this man she had never seen before in her life knew who she was.
"Do you mind if I come in for a visit? There are a few things I would like to discuss with you and your parents," he said.
Not wanting to be rude to this elderly man, she nodded and stepped to the side, allowing her visitor to enter her home and closing the door behind him.
"Dafnie, who was at the door?" Mr. Ricamry, a handsome man in his forties, asked as he started walking down the stairs, straightening his tie. His hair was a lighter shade of brown, and his eyes were the color of milk chocolate. When he looked up, he stopped mid-way as his eyes fell on the strange looking man that was standing in the entryway. Mrs. Ricamry, who was a few steps behind her husband, almost crashed into him before she realized that there was a man in her house.
"Alas, how rude of me to barge in without introducing myself!" the man chuckled to himself before clearing his throat. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am here to discuss your daughter and her future."
Mrs. Ricamry looked over at her husband uneasily. Mrs. Ricamry was a strict woman with perfect blonde hair and fair skin. Her eyes were as blue as the deepest oceans. Dafnie often wondered where she got her looks from, for her hair was a very dark brown, her eyes a bright gold, and her skin was olive toned. Unlike her mother, Dafnie constantly had to watch what she ate, for most of it stayed behind.
"How about we discuss this in the sitting room, where it will be more comfortable," Mrs. Ricamry said, pushing into her husband to continue his journey down the stairs. Albus Dumbledore merely smiled, as he gestured to his hosts to lead the way.
The Ricamrys sat on the sofa, allowing their guest to have the loveseat to himself across from them.
They sat there for a few seconds of awkward silence before Mrs. Ricamry broke it. "You said you are here to discuss Dafnie. She isn't in any trouble, is she?" Mrs. Ricamry asked, shooting her daughter a stern look that made Dafnie glare at her mother for automatically assuming that she had done something wrong.
Albus chuckled at this. "Oh, no, not at all. I just came to deliver my present to her personally and to answer any questions you have about it."
Before any of them could even open their mouths, he pulled out an envelope from his robes and handed it to Dafnie.
She slowly reached out and took it before she examined it. It was addressed to her in green ink, and on the back she noticed that it was sealed with wax. She found that rather odd, since people hardly ever sealed their letters with wax. Carefully, she opened the envelope and pulled the first letter out and read it out loud.
"Dear Miss Ricamry,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress."
Dafnie looked up from her letter and stared at the man that had given it to her. Surely, this must be a joke. How could she be a witch? It was just too absurd to be true.
"Excuse me, but... What?" her father finally asked.
"I'm a witch?" Dafnie asked.
Albus nodded. "It would appear so."
Mrs. Ricamry merely scoffed, ripping the letter from her daughter's hand. "Witches and wizards don't exist. What kind of joke is this?"
The old man merely smiled and pulled out a knobby-looking stick, causing Mrs. Ricamry to snort. Mr. Ricamry and Dafnie both moved closer to the edge of the sofa, staring in wonder. Albus waved the stick at the candle that was sitting in the center of the coffee table between the two couches, and the candle transformed into a bird. It flapped its wings a few times before another wave, and it turned back into the candle it was.
"Is that enough proof, Mrs. Ricamry?" he asked. Mrs. Ricamry nodded slowly, still staring at the candle that was just a bird.
"Very well. Now, to discuss Dafnie's education at Hogwarts," he said.
"What exactly does Hogwarts teach?" Mr. Ricamry asked curiously.
"At Hogwarts, Miss Ricamry will learn not only how to use her magic, but how to control it. In her first year, she will be expected to take Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Flying Lessons, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. In her third year, she will be able to pick two extra-curricular classes to add to her schedule," Albus stated, pulling out a bag of lemon drops from his robes and offering the bag to his hosts, who all declined politely.
"Well... Can I go?" Dafnie finally asked her parents.
Mr. and Mrs. Ricamry both stared at each other for a few moments, mentally deciding if they would allow their only child to attend such a school.
"Well, if you'll learn how to control your magic and stop breaking everything we own every time you get upset, I suppose you really should go," Mrs. Ricamry finally sighed in defeat.
"Excellent!" Albus exclaimed cheerfully, clasping his hands together. "Now, let me tell you where to get her supplies, and how to get there..."
