"Fuck!"

Rayne's eyes flew open in alarm when her stepfather uttered the exclamation. She looked out the window of the dismal church they'd been living in, trying to tell the time by the light of the sun, but she knew it was no use; it was still raining. It was always raining lately. Always raining, always cold, always dark. Rayne was getting sick of it.

The clock on the wall told her it was a quarter after five, but the clock lied; its battery had long since been dead. What did it matter, what time it was, anyway? She was always working.

Rayne looked at Master to see what was wrong and found him counting the money he'd been forcing her to earn. She deduced that there wasn't enough, sighed inaudibly, and began preparing herself for another long day's work.

But much to her pleasant surprise -

"Go get me two cases of beer from the gas station," the rugged man demanded, suddenly picking her up by the front of her shirt and throwing her five feet away through a hole in the wall. His voice was scratchy from lack of use and his hair was thick and matted with grease. Somehow, after years without shaving, his facial hair had remained a steady five-o'-clock shadow.

"And don't take forever this time!" he shouted as Rayne stood without complaint and set off for the gas station a few blocks away. She took the shortcut across the main roads on the way there, and when she arrived, she told the cashier with convincing haste that someone outside was trying to steal gas. While he was distracted, she picked up two 24-packs and, after debating, $100 out of the register to appease Master. Then she snuck out the back door and hurried along the scenic route to avoid being seen.

Unlike with most eleven-year-olds, lying had absolutely no effect on Rayne, no matter how outrageous the tale, unless it was to her stepfather, which was something else entirely. Not many things that affected other children had affected Rayne in several years, though, having gone so long without contact from others her own age, Rayne had no way of knowing this. In any case, she didn't much care; she had other things to motivate her than a guilty conscience. For all she knew, she no longer had a conscience. If she were one to think about these things, she might have assumed it had been beaten out of her, but as she was Rayne and no one else, this didn't occur to her.

On her way past the park, a feeble, yet lively old voice called out to her and she stopped to see who it was. A venerable looking man with long, white hair and clothes too odd for words beckoned to her.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked politely. "I'd like a word, if you don't mind."

Though she knew she'd be in trouble for being late, Rayne heard herself oblige and set down her burden to show recognition. What choice did she have?

"Excellent," the man said, smiling. "Allow me to introduce myself, first of all. My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I understand you received my letter."

"Oh, that..." Rayne's face fell the short distance it had left to fall, and again she wondered why anyone would bother sending a letter by way of an owl. Master, on the other hand, had seemed more enraged than confused by it. "Sorry about your bird. It caught my stepdad in a bad mood."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "I'd heard," he said gravely. "Well, he's out of his misery now, poor old fellow. I regret sending him at all. I presume your stepfather disposed of the letter as well?"

Rayne nodded.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd have sent another owl, but I was afraid to risk it. The letter stated simply that though you lack the blood of a witch, you still possess the magical energy needed to be the equivalent of a very powerful one. Needless to say, I would be honored to have a student with your talent attend my school. My question to you is, are you willing to study?"

"Study... witchcraft?" Rayne inferred, slowly wrapping her brain around the idea. The knowledge that she must get back to Master seemed to increase her understanding out of sheer desperation to get this over with.

He wants me to go this school, she summarized. Master would have my head if I left. I can't say no. What do I do?

"I don't know," she said finally. "My stepdad... What would I have to do?"

"The only real sacrifice would be to spend the next seven years at my boarding school in Europe," Professor Dumbledore replied. "You would of course be able to return to your home over the summer, winter, and spring holidays, and by age seventeen you'll be finished altogether. I must tell you, it is not common practice to offer children so very far away the chance to attend Hogwarts. I sincerely hope you'll accept my proposal, as it is an extraordinary opportunity. Ultimately, though, the choice is yours, Miss Lakehurst."

Rayne frowned at the ground, trying to decide. She knew that by staying here, she was causing Master stress and taking up more of his space. On the other hand, by leaving, she would destroy his only source of income, and... well, she couldn't just say no to Professor Dumbledore. She couldn't.

"The term doesn't begin until September 1, if you need time to think it over," Professor Dumbledore informed her. "I assure you, if money is an issue, I have all that you'll need for supplies."

That's great, Rayne thought, but that's not what I'm worried about.

"I'll tell you what, Miss Lakehurst," Professor Dumbledore said after a moment of silence. "Take the next few days to think about this. I shall return here this Friday morning at nine for your decision. Until next we meet."

Rayne blinked and he was gone.

Over the next few days, Rayne used meditation on the prospect of attending Hogwarts to escape the horrors of work. She imagined what it would be like if she went, how long it would take Master to find a way to stop her, and if Professor Dumbledore was even telling the truth about Hogwarts. A school of witchcraft in Europe? It sounded pretty far fetched, but at the same time, it sounded too true to be denied. Something about it just made sense, on some weird level Rayne couldn't explain if she tried.

Suppose the school was real. Why on earth would they want Rayne? She was stupid, she was weak, she was nobody. In every single thing she did, Master continued to prove how right he was in saying she was a complete waste of space. She kept miraculously finding ways to fuck everything up, and make herself look like an idiot in the process. She couldn't pinpoint any exact instances, but why would Master lie?

It occurred to Rayne, for all of half a second, that Professor Dumbledore was working for Master (to what end, she couldn't fathom, and she knew her weak slave brain could never understand), but then she remembered how the owl had been killed on sight, the letter shredded and burned.

She decided she might cause a lot less problems if she just stayed here (it wasn't exactly saying no if she never saw him again), and anyway her foster parents would be back from their vacation any day now.

For one glorious moment, she began to hope that she might be able to live with them again, once they realized she'd been taken, but the hope died down as soon as it came along. No way they would ever take her back, not after what happened. They knew too much about her, especially Mrs. Lincoln. She hated her for being different, for being low, for being her. Why would she take her back again, after spending all this time trying to put her in another home? The best thing she could do for Mrs. Lincoln now was grant her that. She had to stay here, out of the way, out of temptation. Even if she could go, Master would find her there, a continent away, an ocean apart, and beat her mercilessly for ever thinking she could escape him for good. Hogwarts was an inviting prospect, to be sure, but it was nothing more than a pipe dream. Who was she trying to kid?

Still, Rayne couldn't seem to stop herself from dreaming about going. She imagined what the school would look like and what they would study in class, whether she could even fake her way through casting spells or brewing potions or flying on a broomstick, whatever it was they did at Hogwarts. Once she amused herself by wondering if she would grow warts, and then questioned the truth of that particular stereotype. Professor Dumbledore didn't have any warts.

When she dreamed about the actual school, it was always different - sometimes it was a tall, black tower perched high on a mountain; others it was a fortress in the clouds; and once it was even halfway submerged in a lake, strange crustaceans and other sea life drifting past the classroom windows - but there was one thing these dreams always had in common: Wherever Hogwarts was, there the sun was also. Maybe she was wrong, but it felt to Rayne that if there really was such a place as Hogwarts, where the impossible happened on a daily basis, maybe she could go there and see a blue sky again. For all the months it had been raining, the sun didn't even seem real anymore, but it seemed like if the sun could be real, anything else could, including Hogwarts.

It was impossible for her to go, she knew, but the just the thought was sweet escape. Fantasies of being so far from here lulled her to sleep all week, and, though she didn't know it, it didn't rain once when she dreamed. The constant clouds scattered, and in what remained, one could clearly see the shape of a beautiful girl drifting through the heavens, gliding on the back of a flying oar.

Late Thursday night, four days after being approached by Professor Dumbledore in the park, Master left Rayne sitting alone in the church. She slept while he was away, coming to every now and then when she thought she'd heard him return, then drifting back into an uneasy doze. He returned several hours later, silhouetted in the dawning of the sun, covered in dirt and smelling like sweat and blood. He informed her proudly, standing there in the light of the cloaked moon, that he'd killed her foster parents and she would never see them again.

It took Rayne a moment to fully register what he'd said, due to the immense weight of the shock. True, they'd never been related in any way, but they were the only real family Rayne had ever known. Sure, they hated her, but... well, they had a reason; she was incurable! She was born against God and everything He stood for, but they still put up with her, and for that... she loved them.

Slowly, dimly, Rayne felt her heart break, and in the emotional turmoil that followed, the world was growing dark. The ceiling melted into the floor, the walls were no more at all, and she felt herself falling as it all faded to black