AN: For those of you that happen to haunt the Degrassi story board, you will see that I have not finished "The Thief." Writer's block. What can I say? Anyway, just a little story made up from a very long night in pit band.
Enjoy! Oh and please R&R (psst, I'm not the fabulous JK that owns Harry Potter).
Chapter One
"Aunt Mabel!" I called, my hands shaking as I clenched the envelope. It was the exact same shade of parchment that haunted me in my nightmares. It was the envelope that gave word of the end of my freedom. It was the envelope that brought about my imminent doom.
Aunt Mabel, however, didn't come running. Not that I expected her to. Normally, Aunt Mabel was more concerned with reading the gossip column of Witch Weekly than with whatever "damn shenanigans" I got myself into this time. She had this tendency to think the worst of me.
Most of the time she was right.
So what if one person "accidently" lets her Aunt's pet niffler, Rodolfo, into the house? Or uses the cat as a test subject for Transfiguration. Or instead of using Billywig parts in a Babbling potion, uses the rare Dragon Heartstrings (I don't know where she got those in the first place), causing the whole kitchen to smell for the next two months. Or…
Let's face it. I'm a screw up.
"Aunt Mabel!" I called, again. "It's the you-know-what!"
She let out a shriek and came running (oh, now she runs) as fast as her pudgy legs could carry her. Her yellow hair was in disarray (no, I'm not color blind, her hair is literally yellow) and her dark brown eyes wild. She snatched the letter out of my hand. Her hands began shaking as she slid the maroon seal off.
"Aunt Mabel? What does it say?"
"Shut up, you little poof," she snapped. I rolled my eyes. Little poof? Out of all of the insulting names she's called me in the past; I will be the first to admit that I am quite disappointed at her lack of creativity.
She sank into the over-cushioned chair behind her. Her tiny feet dangled off the edge, violently shaking in time with her hands. Her hand flew to her mouth as she read the first letter. "Continue it for me, Elena. I can read no more!"
I choked down a snort. Diva much? Try living with her for the past twelve years. I cleared my throat:
"Miss Bowman,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
I looked up at Aunt Mabel, who was sobbing into a Kleenex.
"However, we must commend your relative, Mabel Bowman, for keeping your powers a secret for the past fourteen years. Understandably, when magic was taking place at your residence, we believed that it was of your aunt's doing, not yours. Ironically, we did not even know you were alive, much less living with your aunt."
I laughed. "Wow, powerful Hogwarts used two adverbs in a row. You would think that being a magic school and all they could come up with a better way to start a sentence. Did you know-?"
"Keep reading!" Aunt Mabel barked.
Touchy. Nobody cares about grammar these days.
"While attending Hogwarts has never been a requirement for magical children, there must be consequences for you infraction of the law."
I gulped. Oh no. They know what I did.
"What are they talking about, Elena?" Aunt Mabel asked. In the back of my head, I could feel the memories of yesterday's incident come to the front of my mind. All of sudden Mr. Harold's face came swimming before my very eyes. His blue eyes wide paralyzed with fear. Legilimency. Ah, Aunt Mabel, you sly dog.
Take a deep breath. Clear your mind. Ohm ya. Ohm ya.
"Well, girl?"
SUCCESS! "I have no idea," I responded. "Anyway…"
"Instead of teaching you to keep your magic a secret, Mabel has nearly exposed the magical world. You must be taught control. Since the Ministry of Magic cannot punish you with the severity that you deserve (simply because you do not know better), the Ministry has mandated that you attend Hogwarts."
"A Hogwarts representative will be at your residence tomorrow to escort you to Hogwarts. Have a pleasant day. Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress of Hogwarts)"
I looked up at her. "Are we seriously going to go along with this?"
She buried her face into her hands. "I don't think we have that much of a choice. Trust me, I don't want you to go to that awful school either."
I bit my lip. As much as Aunt Mabel is an old pain in the neck, I really do love her. I mean she practically gave up her independence to take me in when Mum and Dad died in the accident. Unfortunately, the Ministry thought I died too. So Aunt Mabel sent me to the Muggle school down the road. It was nice. School was an escape from Aunt Mabel and from this world, the magical world.
But once I turned eight, funny things began happening to me. Like resurrecting the frog I was supposed to be dissecting. Or turning my uniform bright pink. Or vanishing Aunt Mabel's meatloaf. I know Aunt Mabel was disappointed when she discovered my powers; she hoped they skipped me.
But they didn't.
So Aunt Mabel began to train me, using her old school books and my father's wand. Muggle school by day, magic lessons by night. It was very Batman-esque. Besides the fact that I didn't put on a cloak and run around fighting bad guys. But that's not the point.
Aunt Mabel never told me precisely why she didn't want me to attend Hogwarts. Besides her ranting and raving how it was "too dangerous" and "an awful school all round," that "I'd be better growing up in the Muggle world." To be honest, I was fine with that. What sane fourteen year old girl wants to go to boarding school, away from all of her friends? Never able to go to prom, or go to football games, or be normal.
I just wanted to learn how to control these blast powers so that they didn't go all crazy. Lately, that hasn't always been the case.
I looked around at our tiny living room, remembering all of the memories. The time when Taylor and I snuck in after our little "trip" to London to see Coldplay. When my friends came here after the last polo game and I almost kissed Devin. When Aunt Mabel explained to me what sex was (using potion bottles of course). And just life in general. Sure these past fourteen years (twelve living with Mabel) have been chaotic, but this is home. I don't want to live anywhere else.
Aunt Mabel swore under her breath. "I don't think there's that much we can do. Just go and suck it up. But don't worry, I'm getting over to the Ministry and talking to those buffoons. They can't just order someone to get an education. It's practically Communist!"
I laughed. Now there's the Aunt Mabel I know and love. "Do I have to go? Really? This isn't just an optional thing that I can opt out of? Or can I give up my powers?" I've seen witches do it in that American show, Charmed. Not that my magic is anything like that.
Aunt Mabel smiled sadly. "Sorry. No such thing." Her eyes narrowed. "Be honest with me, Elena. Did you use magic in public?"
I gulped. "Uh, no?"
She leaned in; her brown eyes an inch away from my hazel ones. I could practically taste the sherry on her breath. "You know, that would be the only way they could find you. Now, let's try this again. Did you use magic outside of this house?"
Seal your mind. I focused on Coldplay lyrics. "No, ma'am. I did not."
She stared at me. If she found out about the stunt I pulled at school, then I'd be toast. There's no way she'd fight the Ministry then.
"Fine. Go upstairs and pack. I'm going to start cleaning the cauldron."
I didn't need to be told twice. I bounded up the stairs and sank onto my bed. I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.
Going to Hogwarts wasn't in the plan. I was going to learn the minimum amount of magic, focus on my Muggle studies and go to college to study Pre-Med. I'd meet the man of my dreams and we'd fall in love. Then he'd propose on graduation. I'd reject him, saying that I need to focus on me, before I can focus on a "we." He'd be devastated. I'd be devastated. But I'd come out on top and be a fantastic doctor.
I pulled my wand out of my pocket. Nine inch Willow with a Unicorn hair core. "Lumos," I muttered. A small ball of light appeared at the tip of my wand. Shadows danced across my walls, rising and falling with the strength of the orb. Very gently, I swung my wrist and the ball of light detached and hung over my head.
No, I'm not meant for this world.
But if they're going to force me to go, then I'm going to force them to kick me out.
