A/N: I'm not dyslexic but my ssister is, so yeah. This story can be dedicated to her and to anyone else who feels like they are treated unfairly because of dyslexia. Hang in there, at least SOME people understand!

Andrea flopped down onto her bed and sighed. This did not make any sence. She didn't understand any of it. Just hours ago she had been a perfectly normal girl and now her world was crashing down. How could she have known what would happen? She just didn't get it. Her mother had understood her, and had known that just because she was dyslexic didn't mean she was dumb. She had known that there was nothing wrong with her, or any dyslexic people. They were just different. She wanted to call Crow, but her parents weren't letting her use the phone. Sighing, she rolled over onto her back and recalled the events of earlier that day…

"Andrea, this is serious. You are 16 yrs old and can no longer read or write." Her school principle looked at her over horn rimmed glasses. "Frankly, I don't see how you made it to the 11th grade." Andrea looked down at her shoe. She was not unfamiliar with this conversation. She had been through it many times before. And they always just felt sorry for her and let her go up a grade.

"I have dyslexia." She mumbled.

"I know you do. The worst case this country has seen, practically. And we need to do something about it." They always said the same thing. But they never did anything.

"I'd like to call your mother."

"She's my aunt. My mom's dead." Andrea muttered again. Would she really have to go through explaining it all again?

"Ah, yes. Of course. Your aunt." She acted like she had known it all along. The idiot.

Andrea's mother arrived fifteen minutes later, looking very annoyed. She shot Andrea a cold look, as if to say, "Well, you've done it now!" Andrea had lived with her aunt ever since her mother had died when she was 15, leaving no known relatives. Andrea disliked her aunt, but she had no choice about where she lived, being a minor.

While her aunt and the principal talked, Andrea idly scuffed the toe of her boot on the floor. This was so boring.

"Andrea? Andrea!" the voice of the principal broke her away from her thoughts. "Andrea, have you been listening?"

"No." she mumbled.

"We were just discussing your future here. As I was saying, if you continue to refuse to do any work around here, and keep causing disruptions in class, I'm afraid we have no other alternative than the worst. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Nu."

"Andrea, you are so dyslexic you will have to be put to sleep!"

And then she was gone.

Andrea remembered jumping up and running out of the building that day. It just wasn't fair. Her mother had understood. Crow understood. No one else understood. No one. She felt like opening the window and screaming, "THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH MEEEE!" She wished the world could understand that. For once. Just for once.

Sighing, Andrea rolled over and picked up the phone. She needed to talk to Crow, even if her aunt would kill her for it. Crow had been her best friend since first grade (she was the only one brave enough to be friends with the kid with the black Mohawk), and she couldn't stand going so long without talking to him. One of her favourite things about him was that he was American, so he didn't have an accent.

"Crow?" she whispered into the phone after he picked up.

"Drae? 'Sup?"

Quickly, she told him everything that had happened in school that day. "I have to get away from here. I have to go to… you know." Crow was the only one who knew the secret. That she had been accepted into Hogwarts when she was 11, but her ant hadn't let her attend.

"So, are you going?"

"Yes. Tonight."

"Cool. Let me know when."