Hi guys,

This is my first story, hope you like it. Credit to MusicLover500 for the storyline, yes, I did ask before I used it. It takes place at Elena's 18th birthday, but for this story, I'm making it her 17th birthday so it fit :) Hope you enjoy it.

Brown orbs stared at the white ceiling, unmoving. A blank look covered her face, and an empty void filled her brain. She had found nothing. Again. Stefan wasn't coming back, she knew that, but it didn't stop that nasty flicker of hope from taunting her chest.

Elena sighed. She didn't know what she would do. She had finally given up, no longer believing that he could be saved, but that didn't stop the disappointment and shame. It was as if she had failed him, that it was her fault that he was on the run with Klaus. She couldn't save him from himself and even though deep down she knew she never would be able to, she had tried to fool herself that she could.

A tap on her window interrupted her brooding. She was immensely surprised that it wasn't the crow that Damon always turned himself into, and instead was an owl with pure white feathers. In its beak was a letter. Elena was curious. She rarely saw an owl, and to see an owl by her window surprised her. She got off her bed and opened the window. The cool night air brushed past her as the white owl flew in, dropped the letter, and flew out.

She shut the window and cautiously approached the letter on her bed. She had no idea who had sent it, and wasn't sure if she'd want to know the information it held. It seemed important, why bother send it by owl if it wasn't. She placed her hand on it. Nothing happened. She turned it over in her hand, the brown envelop making a slight rustling noise as it moved. It was sealed with a red formal stamp, and had 'Elena' on it in elegant letters. She carefully opened it and pulled out the letter. A rock fell out of the bottom and landed on the bed. She ignored it and read the letter.

Dear Elena,

I don't know if I have ever met you, or if I had, what impression I made. I'm sorry I left you, but it was for your own safety.

I didn't know how to tell you this so I'm just going to say in outright: you are a witch. I'm not sure if your parents have told you yet, but you're adopted. I'm your real mother, although I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to meet you.

You are part of the Petrova line, which, if you know anything about it, is a very powerful line. I am also a witch, or was, meaning that you will be too. I got a very powerful wizard to place a spell on you to supress your powers until you were 17, so that you could have a relatively normal life.

But now, it's time for you to join the wizarding world. I'm sorry if this scares you or you don't believe it. Squeeze the rock once you have finished reading this.

Love from your mother,

Isobel Flemming

Elena was numb. Unfortunately, she new about the supernatural, and had already found out that she was adopted. But, her, a witch! She wasn't sure she believed it. But she picked up the rock anyway. And squeezed it.

Dumbledore sat at his desk. looking through the names of the first years that were about to join Hogwarts. Everything was in order, all the students had returned their letters, all accepting, as usual. But something was bothering him. He didn't know what. He had that feeling, the one he always got when something important was going to happen.

So he was looking over the roll of the new entrances for the following year, to see if one of the names had been left off the list, or there was a name on there that wasn't supposed to be on there. But nothing was off.

Then his whole office shook. Everything around him started moving and Dumbledore felt panic place a cold finger on his chest. He gripped the desk in fright and to stop himself from being thrown around. The scroll found its way out of his hands and into the air. His quill went up to join it and started to write at the bottom of the paper.

Suddenly everything stopped moving, and the scroll and quill dropped to the floor. Dumbledore shakily got to his feet and made his way around his desk to the fallen scroll. He bent down slowly, his fingers cautiously gripping the paper. His eyes made their way down the scroll to see what the quill had wrote. at the bottom of the roll was a new name, one that made his eyes widen.

Elena Gilbert - Sixth Year.