Jessica Lively and The Star of Destiny
Chapter One
Correspondence
Jessica Lively was a perfectly normal girl. She brushed her teeth twice a day. She watched TV. She gossiped with the other girls at her junior high.
It wasn't her fault that her teeth were clean even before she brushed them. Nor that the she could change the channel without the remote. Nor that rumors she told had a tendency to come true.
Other girls weren't like Jessica, but that didn't mean she was different. She was exactly like everyone else, only she had a peculiar way of going about it. This didn't bother her.
What did bother Jessica was the raven outside her window. Ravens were not an uncommon sight in Kissimmee, Florida. They flew in black, feathery clouds, haunting shopping malls and the sides of freeways. However, they usually did not bring letters. Jessica had heard of carrier pigeons, but the idea of carrier ravens was just ridiculous.
"Ridiculous!" Jessica reprimanded in a harsh whisper. "Is this some sort of prank?" Her nut brown hair stood on end as her ire charged her skin with static electricity.
The raven cocked its head to the side, Caaaawwwwww? The sorrow in his call made Jessica regret her tone. It was not the bird's fault that he was a raven. He'd been born that way. Just as Jessica was born with her . . . peculiar way of going about things.
"I'll take the letter." She gave the raven a stern look. "But I disapprove of this nonsense."
She took the envelope but didn't open it. "Shoo," she told the bird, waving the letter at it. With an indignant ruffling of its feathers, the raven flew off into the rising sun.
The paper was heavy and smelled like thyme. She flipped it over, examining where the folds were sealed with a white wax bumblebee. In the light it shone with a rainbow of colors, making its wings appear to flutter.
She asked the letter, as politely as she could in her current state of agitation, what was its purpose. The letter told her nothing. She concentrated harder. Jessica could always tell what was in mail before she opened it. She knew what was bills and what was ads. An invaluable skill she'd developed as a child to help her father avoid debts he couldn't pay. Still the letter kept its contents hidden.
"Rude," she huffed, sliding her finger under the envelope flap and breaking the seal with a single swift movement. The wax bumblebee flew off the letter and out of the window.
Something intangible and inevitable began to seep from the letter. Jessica instinctively knew that this letter would change everything. This letter was Jessica's destiny.
Jessica hurled the envelope out of her window like a discus. It flew much further than the laws of physics should have allowed it to travel. "No, thank you," Jessica called after the letter just to make certain that it understood her feelings on the matter.
The front door slammed. Jessica raced down stairs. Her house had been built at the turn of the century, over a hundred years ago. The neighborhood had once been full of Victorian row houses that stood shoulder to shoulder for four blocks. However, over time they'd all fallen down. New houses went up. Split levels and Ranches with carpeted floors, hot water, and air conditioning. Jessica's house was the very last of its kind. Every year the house sagged a little more. The floors creaked a little louder. But still it stood.
The century old steps protested loudly as Jessica clomped down them. The bannister swayed dangerously to the side under her grip. Jumping the last three stairs, she landed in the entryway with a thump. "Dad," she yelled at the top of her lungs. Her father, only two feet away, reeled back at her volume before dropping his duffle bag and hugging his daughter.
"Hi, Goose," he whispered into Jessica's hair.
Peter Lively was a strong man. His hands were rough from years of working as a construction worker. His hair, several shades darker than Jessica's was going prematurely gray. Years of laboring in the sweltering sun hadn't sapped the joy from his blue-green eyes. They were deep and peaceful like the ocean. Nothing made Jessica feel at home like the serenity in her father's eyes.
"I thought you weren't going to be back until next week?"
He smiled. "The job finished up early. I could leave if you don't want me to be here."
She punched his arm. "Don't be ridiculous. I always want you here."
"Alright then, what are we doing today? We could go to the Y.M.C.A. pool and be pirates-"
"Dad," she cut him off.
"Well, you'd be a pirate. I'd be a mermaid."
"Dad."
"Fine, Goose. If you don't want to be a pirate, you can be a whale, although why you wouldn't want to be a pirate is beyond me."
"Dad, I have track practice today."
"Oh." His whole body deflated, but his disappointment was quickly erased by an indulgent smile. "Always running. Just like your mother. She could run so fast that-"
"Even the wind couldn't catch her. You've told me this a thousand times already."
"Even the wind couldn't catch her," he continued, ignoring Jessica's rolling eyes. "The air, the dirt, the light from the sun reached out for her, but she could outrun anything."
"Is that all?" asked Jessica sarcastically. "Can I go to practice now?"
"Not even home five minutes and you're already sick of me."
She stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek, but he still had to bend down for her to manage it. "I'm always sick of you," she told him lovingly.
Peter lifted her up, slinging her over his shoulder and carried her outside onto the front porch, where he plopped her on the squeaky wood steps. "Fine! Go! See if I care." He slammed the door dramatically behind him.
Jessica laughed so loudly the porch shook. An irate growl rumbled from a mass of brown fur in the old rocking chair. "Well excuse me, Lord Fluffiness. Did I interrupt your nap?"
From the pile of fur emerged a pair of yellow slitted eyes. A bottle brush tail rose to attention. Twenty pounds of cat lifted onto enormous white paws. He stretched every one of his thirteen toes individually before leaping from the chair.
When Jessica reached down to pet him, he leapt onto her shoulders. "Little Foot, you're too big," Jessica complained, but didn't make him get down.
Jessica had found Little Foot eight years ago. She'd woken up one morning and known where he was. It was the first truly peculiar thing that Jessica had done. She'd woken up her father and made him drive her to an animal shelter six towns over where Little Foot was curled up in a cage crying. He was a kitten, barely weaned, found roaming the woods alone.
Her father couldn't refuse her when she'd told him that Little Foot needed them to be his family. She'd been five years old and it had been a month since her mother was murdered.
Thwap. Jessica's left foot hit the track. The impact reverberated up her leg. Thwap. Her right foot hit. Thwap. Left foot. Thwap. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. She outran her troubles and her sadness. She'd lost her worries about her unfinished homework six laps ago. She'd fled from her confusing regrets about the unopened letter. She was free.
A dark figure suddenly appeared outside the fence. Jessica tripped over her own feet. Her face smacked the ground hard.
"Jess!" Molly kneeled beside her. "Are you okay?"
Jessica looked over Molly's shoulder, searching for the figure but it was gone. Little Foot loped over from the stands. He leapt onto Jess's chest and determinedly licked all over her face.
"I'm fine. Just tripped. Little Foot, that's not helpful."
A familiar sounding Caaaawwwwwwwwww wrent the air. Jessica saw the raven fly low over the field, landing next to her.
"Shoo," Molly told the bird as she flapped at it with her hands.
The raven snapped its sharp beak at her fingers. "Bad birdie," Molly scolded him.
Exhaling an exhausted sigh, Jessica heaved herself to her feet. Little Foot yowled at being dislodged.
"Don't worry about it. He's just mad at me."
"He's a bird," pointed out Molly. "Are you sure you don't have brain damage or something?"
"Maybe I do. I'm gonna go home and lie down. Tell coach why I've gone?"
"Yeah, just feel better."
The raven took flight, shrieking a final CAAWWWWW at Molly. Little Foot charged after him.
For once in her life Jessica walked instead of ran. She followed the raven as slowly as she could, forcing him to circle back around every now and again when he got too far ahead. All her troubles had caught up to her again. Some part of her had always known that her peculiar way of doing things couldn't be unique to her. There had to be other's like her in the world. She knew that one day they'd show up but she never thought it would be today.
Leaning against the side of the gym was a tall man in a long black trench coat. A wide brimmed fedora hid his face from view. The raven alighted on his shoulder. Little Foot took a mighty leap his jaw snapping open to capture the bird. But the tall man caught him mid jump, holding him in a single hand as though he were a mere kitten and not 20 pounds of ferocious feline.
Jessica gathered up her courage. "What do you want?" she asked him, afraid of the answer.
From a coat pocket he produced the Raven's letter. "You dropped this." His voice was smooth and smoky, like afternoon fog.
"I threw it out the window. I don't want it."
The Man's handsome face split into a sharp smile. His teeth were much longer and sharper than they should have been. "Do you know what you are?"
"I'm Jessica Lively."
"You are a witch."
Jessica was the sort of person who rarely got angry. She never saw the point in it. Anger didn't fix anything. Jessica endeavoured to be calm. Rational and empathetic. This meant that the three or four times a year that Jessica got angry were nothing short of spectacular.
The ground shook. Thunder clouds formed in the sky. Heat lightning arched through the sky above. Little Foot bit the Man forcing him to release his hold. The cat landed on the trembling ground, his fur sticking up on end as he stood defensively between Jessica and the Man.
"I am who and what I say I am." Her voice was soft but indomitable. Even though neither Jessica nor her father ever said the word, they knew that her peculiar way of doing things was magic. In elementary school a fourth grader had called her a freak when she'd revived a wilted sunflower. She'd still been crying when her father picked her up.
He'd held her in his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. "A million, billion, gazillion people can call you a freak, but you're the only person who can decide what Jessica Lively is."
The tall man raised a single sculpted eyebrow at Jessica's intense reaction. "Is your objection to the terminology or the fact, because whatever nomenclature you use it must be apparent to you that you have supernatural abilities."
"You think I'm just going to agree with whatever you say because you string a bunch of big words together?"
"If you are not a witch then why has your ire produced a thunderstorm?"
"I have a peculiar way of doing things." Jessica crossed her arms, defying him to challenge her pronouncement.
He raised the brim of his hat, meeting her glare with inhumanly pale eyes. Jessica flinched away from his stare. "Your 'peculiarity'," he soaked the word in disdain, "will kill someone if you do not learn to control it."
The letter was thrust into her hands. "You have been accepted into Anadarko Academy of Sorcery and Enchantment. Orientation is next Friday."
He turned sharply his black coat billowing around him. "What if I don't want to go?" She called after him.
"You need to file a form of intent with the Bureau of Magical Governance."
"How do I-" She began to ask but he was gone leaving only a pop of sound as air rushed to fill the space where a person used to be only moments before.
"Rude." Jessica muttered.
There was nothing else for it, Jessica removed the letter from the envelope and read.
Dear Ms. Lively,
I am pleased to offer you a position in Anadarko Academy of Sorcery and Enchantment's Grade One Class. As an Anadarko student you will be part of a long legacy of excellence. Founded 300 years ago as a school for particularly gifted witches and wizards, Anadarko has become the premier magical school in the nation, known for its comprehensive curriculum and individualized education.
Orientation will be Friday, August 13th. Transportation will be provided by the school bus.
On behalf of the teachers and staff I would like to welcome you to our community,
Shelton Renard
Headmaster of Anadarko Academy
"That was a whole lot of words to say nothing," Jessica complained to Little Foot. He yawned so wide his jaw cracked. Jessica took this as a sign of agreement.
"Jess! JESS!" Molly was running toward her. "You said you were going home?"
"I got held up." Little Foot leapt from Jessica's shoulders, presenting his head to Molly for petting. She obliged him.
"Coach cut practice short because of the storm." Molly squinted at the sky. "Seems to be clearing off now though."
"But Coach thinks that fear of weather is weakness of character."
Little Foot emitted a deep rumbling purr as Molly scratched underneath his chin. "That was before a bolt of lightning struck a tree near the track. It was terrifying. I could feel it on my skin, like the air was electrified. Scared Coach half to death."
"That's horrible," Jessica exclaimed.
Molly shrugged. "Whatcha gonna do? Not like you can control the weather."
Jessica nervously folded and unfolded the letter as she walked home. If she was a bit forceful when she creased it and a tad vicious when she wrenched it back open, then it was understandable. This one letter had stolen her future from her. Yesterday she could have been anything when she grew up. Now she was a witch. She was going to be a witch today, tomorrow, and forever. She was going to a school where she would learn to be even witchy-er, all because she didn't want to accidentally strike people with lightening or turn them into frogs or whatever witches do.
Peter Lively was camped on the front porch when Jessica arrived. He was surrounded by water filled glasses, sugar, and string.
The sight was strange enough that Jessica was lifted from her gloomy thoughts. "Why are you making rock candy?"
He curled the ends of an imaginary mustache. "Ze muse," he began in a terrible french accent. "Ze called to me and told me zat I must prepare a feast for my daughter!" He flourished his arms dramatically.
Giggling, Jessica pointed out "This never works."
A grin stretched across his sun-burned face. "This time it will."
Jessica plopped down beside him. She held out the letter. He took the much abused paper scanning it quickly. She waited, barely breathing for him to say that it was impossible. Jessica had powers but the idea of her attending a magical school was pure nonsense.
"Your mother went here."
"WHAT?! Mom was a..." She couldn't bring herself to say the W word out loud.
"Peculiarity?" He was teasing her. Jessica gave him her patented disapproving glare. This was not the time for teasing. This was serious life-altering stuff. "Do you not remember that the dishes used to clean themselves? The plants grew even though she never watered them. The mobile over your cradle floated without strings."
"Did she like Anadarko Academy?"
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "She never said much about it. The food was great. She hated all the teachers. She loved the garden."
Jessica absent-mindedly dragged Little Foot from the sugar water at which he was lapping. "I have to go, don't I?"
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," her father reassured her.
She shook her head. "My power keeps getting stronger. I'm not always in control of it. I need to learn."
"I'm sure it's a nice school, although. . ." He glanced speculatively at the letter. ". . . I wonder what Headmaster Renard meant by particularly gifted witches and wizards."
"Something weird, I'm sure," bemoaned Jessica. "They deliver mail via raven. Weirdos."
"What if it's catching?" Peter pondered. "You could come back from school a total weirdo."
Jessica stuck out her tongue. "All these years living with you and I've never caught it."
"Touché." Peter stood up, dusting off his pants. He gestured to the jars. "You're right. This never works."
"This time it will." Jessica tapped a jar. The sugar instantly formed into rocky chunks on the string.
~~~~~~~~~~*End of Chapter One*~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Endless acknowledge of my editor and co-conspirator, Ray-Ray.
Disclaimer: Various elements of this story including but not limited to Quadpot, Floo Powder, Albus and Kendra Dumbledore, Gringotts Bank and Kneazles are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling.