Hey everyone! Welcome to our brand new story; Alpha's Charms! This story is a HP/Clique story centered mainly around the drama that a magical clique would bring to Hogwarts. Written by nearly a half-score of writers, a diverse set of POV's is sure to keep you on your toes. If you can guess who wrote what section (list of writers below), you get extra brownie points!

Forgive us, but we know that this story rightfully belongs under the cross-over section. But, have you seen it there? It's sad.

So anyway, we'd rather keep our story out here; in the light, so we can get a nice reader fanbase before we are banished to the cold dungeon that is the crossover section. Who came up with that, anyway?

We sincerely hope you enjoy,

reaching past the stars

(splendeur, ailes du neige, xoxo Starry-eyed, Glittering Moonlight, keep calm and sparkle, Dancing When The Rain Falls, Fanficfanticgurl)

ooo


1.

The Block Estate

Westchester, New York

11:01 AM, July 30th

"Breakfast, Massie!" Kendra Block's voice filtered out of the intercom. Massie paused at her computer, confused. Her family never had breakfast together. A few words shared in passing, at most. She usually just grabbed a LUNA bar, and called the meal done. Even on a sunday morning, the idea of brunch with her family was alien.

"Massie?"

"Coming." Massie barked, angrily sliding on her bathrobe over her silk boyshorts and cami. She switched her IM status over to 'busy', and exited out of her pending video chat with the PC. Why did her mother always have such bad timing?

As she descended the stairs with bare feet, she noticed a quiet air in her house. Normally, her mother was bustling around, preparing for some big society party, or instructing Inez how to dust the china correctly. The house was eerily silent, however, and it set Massie's nerves on edge. She crept silently towards the kitchen, comforted by the click-clack of Bean's nails beside her.

Her parents were seated at the dining room table, a pitcher of orange juice sitting in between them. Oddly, her mother looked ecstatic, while William Block just looked a little tired and grumpy.

"Massie, you've received a letter." Kendra half-squealed, shoving a thick white envelope over the table. It came to rest, fluttering slightly, right on top of her plate.

"Who sends letters anymore? Your great-aunt?" Massie grumbled, as she reached forward to grab it. "Ew! Is this poo?" Eight little brown specks lined up perfectly on the top of the envelope.

"No, just claw marks from the ow-"

"William!" Kendra snapped from the corner of her mouth. "Let her find out for herself."

Massie watched the exchange, silent. When the scuffle was open, Massie ripped the letter open, half-heartedly pulling out a thick white sheet of paper. She rolled her eyes, and casually looked down at the paper.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Block,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at 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 by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

"What the hell is going on?" Massie looked up into her the eyes of her parents. They both looked away.

"I told you we shouldn't have given it too her." William's voice was low. Perhaps he thought she couldn't hear him.

"What else could we have done?" Kendra hissed back, while staring intently at the vase behind William.

"Not let her go of course. Let her be normal."

"But she's not normal. And they don't exactly let untrained witches be normal! The thought of one without training!" Kendra's voice reached a high pitch.

"Ex-ca-use me?" Massie slammed her fist down on the table. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." William rubbed his slightly-balding head. "The Block's are magical, Massie. And that's something you're going to have to live with. We leave for England in two weeks."


The Block Guesthouse

Claire's Room

11:25 AM, July 30th

"Mail's here!" Todd burped as he ran into Claire's room. Claire wrinkled her nose in disgust and popped another gummy worm in her mouth. She whirled around in her chair to face Todd.

"Eww, don't burp," Claire told him.

"Eww, don't burp," Todd mimicked.

Claire rolled her baby blue eyes. "Is there any mail for me?"

"Surprisingly, yes. You've become quite popular." Todd shoved a white envelope in her face, making her jump back and cover her face with her hands. The envelope fluttered to the floor.

"Don't do that. I could get a paper cut," Claire snapped. She bent down to pick up the envelope. She ripped it open with her teeth (out of habit) and retrieved a piece of paper. Just as she was about to begin reading, she felt hot Doritos breath on her shoulder. Todd.

"Ehmagawd, Todd! It's my letter!" Claire jerked the letter away and threw it face down on her bed. She pushed Todd towards the door. "Can you puh-lease get out?"

The corners of Todd's mouth curled into a smile. "Looks like you're learning from Massie Block. Speaking of her, can you get me her-"

"Out. Now." Claire pointed towards the door and tapped her foot impatiently. "Or else I'll tell mom that you snuck out of the house last week and-"

"Okay, okay, I'm going." Todd trudged out, defeated. Claire grinned triumphantly and shut the door behind him. She plopped down on her bed and slowly flipped the letter over.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Lyons,

... abrv ...

"Ehma-no way," Claire breathed. She always knew there was something special about her. She thought back to the time in third grade when Mrs. Adams had had an unscheduled doctor's appointment right before a big state test. Was that her fault? Could she have...? She remembered the look on Mrs. Adams' face when the office called to tell her that she had to go. She remembered how nervous she'd been for the test.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door, jolting Claire out of her thoughts. She quickly tucked the letter under her bed. "Come in!" she chirped.

Her parents, Jay and Judi, made their way in. "So I'm assuming you got the letter," Jay said.

Claire nodded. "Yeah, I got a letter." She took a deep breath. In, out. "Is it real? Do I really have magical powers?"

"Yes, yes, you do. And I do too." Jay paused for a second to let this sink in.

Claire gasped. "And you didn't tell me?"

"We wanted you to have a normal life, Claire bear," Judi said, putting her arm around Claire.

"Omigod, Mom, are you magical too?" Claire pulled away from her mom, astonished.

"Actually, no. I'm not."

"Oh," Claire said, disappointed. "So I'm only half? And what about Todd? Is he a wizard too?" The thought of Todd having magical powers made her feel faint.

"Probably," Jay mused. "Anyway, the point is, we're leaving for England soon."

"OMG." Claire clapped her hand over her mouth. "This is all so sudden."

"You're a witch, Claire Lyons. I'm a wizard. And you're going to Hogwarts."


The Block Estate

Westchester, New York

12:07, July 30th

"And then they were like, 'the blocks are a magical family' and 'you're going to have to deal with it.'" Massie ranted, hardly pausing for breath. "I hawnestly think they're on drugs."

Claire sat in silence, watching as Massie's braid slowly went from messy to unraveled.

"I swear to gawd, if they actually drag me all the way out to England for some imaginary school, I'm going to flip- and guess what? They apparently think owls will deliver things for them! They were all like, okay, we better send the owl back with the letter!"

Massie took a deep breath. "They are so delusional. There's no such thing as magic!"

"Massie." Claire said calmly. "I got a letter too."


Riviera Mansion

Westchester, New York

11:07, July 30th

Alicia was eating a chocolate Luna Bar while waiting for her best friends, the Pretty Committee, to log onto her AIM video chat. Briefly, massikur accepted, showed up, and then disappeared.

"ALICIA! COME DOWN! EEP!"

Alicia wondered, What was that frightened screaming about?

Alicia sighed but pulled on her slippers and walked down the stairs. Her maid was holding a broom and was being attacked by a...OWL!? A huge brown barn owl was flying around the kitchen. It was screeching, but the moment the thing saw Alicia, it fluttered over. It was holding a cream colored envelope. The bird dropped it onto her outstretched hand and flew away.

Alicia tore it open, maybe it was one of her friend's letters. This was a cool trend! Alicia took no notice of the red wax seal. It had a picture of a badger, snake, griffin and a raven.

Alicia caught sight of words like, Mugwump, Broomstick, Cauldron & acceptance at first glance. When she went back to read it completely, her jaw dropped.

Alicia began to laugh. This was one super funny joke. There was no such thing as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Suddenly the front door opened. There stood both of Alicia's parents.

Her parents were never home, much less at the same time. Her mom spoke first.

"Alicia dear, did you get a letter sent by an owl today?"

"Yep mom, It's just a joke isn't it?"

This time her dad answered her,

"No honey, it isn't. Your mom and I are magical. You are a witch."

"WHAT!? You guys are serious?"

"Yes, Alicia, we are. And we're leaving for London in two weeks. Take the time to say your goodbyes."

The full reality of the situation suddenly washed over Alicia. She was magical, aka probably a freak in Massie's book, and she was going to have to leave her best friends in the world to go to a stupid British boarding school. A whole new country!


The Marvil Mansion

Westchester, New York

12:02, July 20th

"Lunch-time, Dyl-pickles!" Dylan rolled out of bed, falling onto the floor with an oomph, and picked herself up again, before thinking about her mother's statement; it wasn't unusual for the Marvil family to have a meal together, especially if her dad had come home, or Jamie from college, but for Dylan to be included?

Something was definitely up, she suspected. Nonetheless, she shouted down the stairs, "Coming! Just give me five minutes," she complained, throwing together what seemed suitable for a lunch outfit.

Throwing together random clothes from her assortment of closets, Dylan ran down the stairs, her hair up in a messy bun, and nails still drying from a fresh coat of burnt sienna nail polish, which surprisingly went well with her flaming red hair. As soon as she got to the bottom of the staircase, Dylan regretted her actions, in particular, her choice of outfit.

"Oh, erm -hi," she muttered, snagging a cinnamon roll from the center of the table before running up the staircase, locking her bedroom door behind her, and sliding to the floor, her cheeks a similar color of her hair. That went great, she thought to herself, wondering out-loud why there was a strange old man sitting across from her mother; Merri-Lee Marvil, of course, had the strangest of guests, but this? This was taking it just a little too far.

Walking down the staircase after changing into something, anything, other than a fluffy pink bathrobe, Dylan crept down the staircase, trying to listen onto the conversation, but to no avail. The room was eerily silent, and Dylan wondered if her mother and the old man had finally left. Looking down a little farther, Dylan sadly realized that they hadn't.

There was an old man, bits and crumbs of bread stuck in his long, flowing beard, with a pair of blue and white robes that looked as though they belonged more to the sixteenth century rather than the twenty-first. What was even stranger was the fact that there were owls, perched on the peak of his hat, if she could even call it that much. "Um, hi, mom," Dylan said, becoming visible.

Her mother was dressed in a business suit, white lace on the top, and a black pencil skirt on the bottom, and fixed Dylan with a stern expression, as if she was always doing something wrong. Her taut pink lips pulled into a grim smile, "Good morning, Dylan. Please sit down."

Dylan awkwardly plopped into one of the chairs in the middle of the dining table, smack dab between the old beard man and her mother. "We have something to tell you," her mother began, looking down at the floor, rather anywhere than her own daughter.

"Yeah, mom? What's all the news?" The words came out in an incomprehensible manner, as they were said in between bites of the cinnamon roll, and sips of a fresh glass of orange juice; Dylan repeated herself once more.

Rather than speaking, Dylan's mother pushed a strange looking letter towards her; what was even stranger was the fact that the letter was addressed to her. Letters from nowhere and everywhere came for her mother: credit card, other bills, offers, promotions, agencies, advertising, etc. Dylan slowly opened the letter, unknowingly reading it out loud, rather than to herself.

After reading the letter, Dylan half-expected her mother to yell "April Fools!" even though it wasn't April 1st; it was June 1st. Or at least pull out a few cameras from the sides to film Dylan's reaction, perhaps posting it on the famous Daily Grind. She didn't expect her mother to look at her, as if she was supposed to say something. "What kind of practical joke is this?" Dylan spat, trying to stand up.

Instead, the chair seemed to grow vines from the sides, and wrap themselves around her small frame, as if she was permanently stuck to the chair. "This isn't a joke, Dylan. It appears as though," Dylan's mother took a moment, sighing. "You were adopted."

"What?!" Dylan screamed again; she wasn't one to take these situations very well, spilling her glass of orange juice to the floor, to which Dakota, her nanny, frowned to, starting to clean up the mess that stained the hardwood flair. "What do you mean, I'm adopted?" Dylan had always thought of that option, to signify why she had flaming red hair and her mother, Jamie, and Ryan all had straight, brown tresses, but had never thought that her assumption was actually true.

"You're part of a magical family, the Parkinson's," the old beard man spoke up. His voice had a certain lilting tone, that was supposed to be used to calm Dylan; however, it did quite the opposite.

She fainted.


The Gregory's Apartment

Westchester, New York

9:23 PM, July 30th

Kristen watched as the arguing silhouettes of her parents danced across the walls. "What the Hell Marsha! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't find it very important." Marsha Gregory's fragile voice echoed off the walls, shaky but firm. Kristen's grip on the door handle tightened until her knuckles were white. Eavesdropping was never something she was proud of but she just needed to know what they were talking about. Beckham purred and brushed against Kristen's ankles, earning a stern 'shh!' from her.

Her father's voice, deep and gruff, escalated with anger. "By God, Marsha! You need some serious help! All these 'magic folk' are completely insane! Pah! Witches! Good god. You're veryclever! Thinking you'd turn me crazy as well! Along with my daughter! She doesn't need you to influence her."

Marsha stayed calm though. "If you're done ranting I would like to-"

"Ranting?!" Mr. Gregory's arms flew up into the air. "This isn't ranting, this is trying to stop you from sending our daughter," he chuckled that chuckle that shows how ridiculous he thinks she is. "who-knows-where!"

Softly closing the door behind her, Kristen surreptitiously snuck over to the entry of the kitchen. They continued with their dispute, not acknowledging her presence. After 10 seconds, she spoke up. "Mom, what's this about?"

"Don't interrupt-" her father began, just to be intercepted by Marsha, who practically dove to hug her daughter.

"Oh sweetie, we've been meaning to tell you something," she squeezed Kristen a tad too tightly. Pulling away, Marsha looked at her daughter, holding her at arms length. A grin swept across Marsha's chapped, pale lips before she spoke again. "Well, I think you should read this first."

Taking her right hand off of Kristen's shoulder, Marsha took a tiny envelope from the back of her jean pockets and slipped it into Kristen's palms. "Well go on," she urged. "Open it already!"

Gingerly analyzing the little pocket's front side, Kristen read the address.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Quizzically glancing from her mother to the envelope, she slid the letter out. Inked with a fancy script, Kristen had to squint to read it correctly. She noticed that the envelope had the same writing but because this was significantly smaller, it was all the more difficult.

Dear Miss Gregory,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at 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 by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

As the letter had entailed, a shopping list was included. But she didn't bother trying to read every detail. "Um...What? It's not even near Halloween. Why are you trying to pull a joke like this?"

Marsha frowned in confusion. "I'm not pulling any tricks. Watch"

The 11 year old girl was about to ask what she meant when Marsha took a wand out of thin air and flicked it in the direction of the table. The once barren wood surface was now covered with photos, albums and wrinkled newspaper articles. The pictures were filled with students wearing black robes or were images of a magnificent stone castle. Even the articles were labeled with the 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' title. "Whaaa-" Kristen's eyes widened.

"Kristen, dear." Marsha's eyes softened as she turned to her daughter. "You see, I'm not lying. This is real. You come from a line of pure-bloods. But, of course, your father is a Muggle."

"Muggle?" Kristen's head tilted to the side, her thin blonde hair falling with it.

"Someone without magic. 'Normal' if you will," Marsha answered before continuing. "So you're a half-blood."

"Oh," her face fell.

"But it doesn't make you any less special!" she adds quickly. Kristen shrugs and turns to her father. Mr. Gregory was staring at the table in awe. She knew very well that he didn't believe any of this nonsense, but he certainly had to now. "Start packing, we'll be leaving for England soon."

And Marsha disappeared around the corner.


ooo

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Next chapter: Let's see who the magical boys are. Any guesses?