Ella Potter
Ella, short for Gabriella Lilian Potter, loved fairy tales more than anything else in the world. Her favourite was Cinderella, and she often felt like she was living in the fairy tale herself. She scrubbed the floors, washed the dishes, and spiders were her only friends. She lived with an evil Aunty, just like an evil stepmother, and she had a horrid cousin that picked on her all the time, just like the step sisters in the tale.
Uncle Vernon didn't fit into the fairy tale, but Ella thought of him as a big, bad wolf, huffing and puffing all the time, and gobbling down pigs – sausage, bacon and pork – as if there was no tomorrow.
It was in a Hut on a Rock, at the stroke of midnight, that Ella met her very own fairy godmother. His name was Hagrid. Hagrid took her to a world beyond that which she could have ever imagined.
She had vault of gold, protected by a dragon. She had a famous name and a tragic but wonderful story about her parents. She had a cauldron and books and all sorts of magical equipment, and she was going to get a wand soon. But first – she had to get her ball gown, otherwise known as her Hogwarts robes.
Ella smiled at Madam Malkin, taking in the sights as fabric danced around her, held up only through magic. The shop was brightly lit, with lanterns in every corner, and crushed crimson velvet lined the walls, lending it an opulent feel. An assortment of materials draped across hangers in an open wardrobe, ranging from ivory silk, or black lace, to lilac satin. Ella adored it.
A voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Hogwarts too?" it said. Gabriella turned, and her breath caught in her throat.
It was her very own Prince Charming. He had golden blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a small smile upon his face.
"Yes!" she exclaimed. "I'm so very excited. My name's Ella Potter. What's yours?"
The boy blinked, eyes going to her forehead, where her scar sat above her brow. She titled her head, and her dark curls fell over it, obscuring it from view.
"Draco Malfoy," he drawled, and offered a hand. Ella placed her hand in his, and he lifted it to his lips, brushing a kiss against the knuckles. "Charmed to meet you."
Ella felt herself flush, and she beamed at him. "A pleasure to meet you too."
Draco smirked at her, as if they were exchanging some sort of private joke. It warmed Ella from the inside out.
"I say, do you know what house you're going to be in?" Draco asked, tilting his head, "I'm hoping for Slytherin. Gosh, I think I'd go back home if I was a Hufflepuff."
Ella winced, embarrassed to admit her ignorance. "What's a Slytherin, and what's a Hufflepuff? I'm afraid I don't know very much about this world at all. I was raised with my mother's sister, and she's non-magical, I'm sorry to say."
Draco scrunched up his face. "The Girl Who Lived was raised with muggles? That sounds perfectly horrible!"
"It was! They made me do all the chores, and were very cruel to me," Ella agreed, secretly delighted to have found someone that sympathised. Perhaps he would sweep her away from her awful family.
Draco nodded decisively to himself. "I'll see if father can't do something about that. Absolutely ridiculous, The Girl Who Lived, living with muggles. But for now, I'll just have to be your guide to the magical world."
Ella smiled, and fluttered her eyelashes at Draco. At least she'd learnt something from Aunt Petunia.
"I'd appreciate that very much. However shall I thank you?"
Draco waved her off. "Don't worry about. I'm sure we'll think of something. Now Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw are four houses at Hogwarts. Slytherin's the best of course. They value ambition and power. Hufflepuff is full of duffers, Gryffindors are all reckless fools, and Ravenclaw is the house of the studious."
Without a doubt, Ella knew which house she fit into. All her life she'd wanted to be a princess, and if that wasn't ambition, then what was? And she desired greatly the power to live life on her own terms, to be free from the constraints that her aunt, that society imposed up her. Being a witch was just the first step in setting her free.
"I hope I'm a Slytherin," she breathed.
At that very moment she did not realise the choice she'd made, nor how it would have an impact upon the rest of her life. At that moment she was just girl, dreaming of being a princess – the sort of princess that could battle with dragons and monsters and evil wizards with a wand in her hand.
And so, at that very moment, Ella began a fairy tale of her own.
Word Count: 813
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