Chapter One – The Sorting
We entered the great hall, those nerve-wracking steps - the start of a new school year. I picked at the end of my sleeve, a nervous habit of mine, and walked up with all the first years.
Ignoring the odd looks I received, I hurried up to the stool as my name was called. Hmm… I gave a start as the sorting hat's voice sounded in my head. Ambrosia Emerson. You are smart enough for Ravenclaw, and you'd be comfortable enough in Hufflepuff. But, I have higher priorities than making you comfortable. The sorting hat laughed, but I cringed. He couldn't have made it easy on me, could he? Don't worry, it is all for the best. You need a little courage and to be able to stand up for yourself. Welcome to Hogwarts, Emerson. I held my breath, as the hat drew his to yell-
"GRYFFINDOR!"
I wasn't supposed to be here. Not at Hogwarts, not if I had been normal. About a year before I was to go to wizarding school, my parents and I had moved to Belgium. And in September, I attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Things were fine at first, after all, spells and charms were so fun to perform and I was immensely intrigued with my schoolwork. I suppose I was just caught up with the incredible world of magic, all by myself, all alone. Then, when the novelty had worn off a bit, I found that everyone had made friends, which was fine by me, really, it was.
Only this was an all girls school and things worked differently at Beauxbatons. Many of the girls were consumed with looks and found great interest in mirrors where I had found great interest in books. Some bragged that they were Veelas. They really weren't. No, they were something different – completely different in fact.
I could be modest, I could tell you I was ugly and therefore, shunned by the other girls. But, I have always been told – since I was a child, by relatives and sometimes strangers, - that I had my mother's beauty and my father's sincere eyes and facial expressions. I would shrug and continue whatever I had been doing; whatever had caught my interest.
So when I finally emerged from having my nose buried in some book, I was greeted by animosity from my fellow pupils. When Christmas break had arrived, I had clung to my mothers robes, frowning softly while she assured me that the reason for all the cruelty that I had been subject to was based on jealousy. I didn't want to go back, and that's what I told my mother. She looked down at me sadly, and after a lot of convincing, I boarded the flying coaches back to the academy.
At this point, I take a shuddery breath. I had tried just being nice and not letting them get to me, which escalated quickly to my mother's suggestion of 'killing them with kindness'. However, it just seemed to encourage them. Just grinning and bearing it, they must have been elated knowing I wasn't going to do anything or tell any teachers about their extensive pranks. And then, in the midst of that year, I lost my magic.
It happened gradually. Spells were getting harder and harder to do. I devoted my time to practicing my form, pronunciation, theory, and focus. When I tried hours and hours on a Saturday evening to preform a simple 'accio', my confidence took yet another blow. The girls laughed, called me a squib, and started this thing where whenever they did something, I would be excluded. Which wasn't new, but now they'd laugh and say, 'sorry, witches only'.
My parents found out after they had seen that my grades had plummeted. I hadn't talked of any of the other girls, or about the bullying. By then, I couldn't just laugh off waking up to a different hair color or having my nails fall off in the middle of class anymore. Everyday I would have another misfortune to look forward to. By the end of the year, my mother was furious. She had marched straight up to the Headmistress's office and I was giving the week off while the main culprits were temporarily suspended and given future detentions.
This dissuaded many from picking on me, but intensified their dislike of me (especially those who had gotten in trouble thanks to my mother). Second year, most of it had died down, but to think it had ended there would be wishful thinking. Slowly, the girls began to pluck up their courage again to get back at me.
So finally, for my seventh year, my parents moved me back to England, and to Hogwarts. At first, exuberance. I would finally be away from Beauxbatons and everyone in it! But as I was walking to the Gryffindor table, I remembered I'd have to share my shame in not being able to perform magic with them. I received a couple pats on the back and congratulations, but I felt sick. Once they found out, they would surely wish I had been forced onto another house.
Well that was rather short. Anyways, I hope from this chapter that you know whether you want to continue reading, and if you do then tell me!