It was a particularly chilly Saturday morning when "she" came.
I wake in my usual bed inside my smallish room, in the dank rectangular building I reside in. It is better than most rooms as it has a small square window looking out onto the street a small sign providing hope but also making me realise how out of place I truly am in this world. The window was too high to look out from the floor, so I climbed upon my bed to get a look at the morning hustle. The window had formed complex crystals of ice overnight, a pattern of rings and cracks that worked together, I would never fit into this mould. I place my sleeve over my hand and wipe away the frost, I observe people walking up the street in a fashion reflecting there need to get somewhere, somewhere where they have a place, a place for them. Nobody is loitering like me waiting for a place or even a sign of how to get to that place. My eyes lose focus and I see myself in the glass, black eyes protruding from my pale face.
I stepped down from my bed, my white feet land on the cold, hard floorboards. My room was rectangular, with ten identically sized to my left and another ten to my right. A door lay ahead of me with a brass door handle and flimsy lock that comes undone when you rattle the door, though on the outside the locks are big and durable not even the biggest boys could knock away. My room used to be grey but now it is a too bright yellow, peeling in corners making you remember what lies beneath the false façade of security. Though the room was small it did not feel cramped, a bed along one wall and a wardrobe along another. My small desk was covered in books and papers but not of the school type, nor the fictitious but information most people don't find interesting big books explaining little things in depth. Because that is how I feel but opposite a huge thing barely explained by anybody as nobody knows about me and they can't be blamed often I hide my mind away and freeze any attempts to get in.
That is of course, until "she" came.
Dawn had only become to crack, I wake early usually due to my plagued sleep, nightmares fill it some so bad I wake in a sweat. Strangely I can never remember the content just the sounds, people pacing, whimpering and people yelling strange words that don't make sense.
I walk to my closet and look in, it is too cold outside to play or sit and enjoy the crisp air, and I know that I will spend as much of the day I can in my room. It snowed heavily a week or so ago and, the powdery snow upon the ground which was fun to play in but now it has been trampled underfoot and turned grey and mushy. I reluctantly pull on my grey school skirt and a long-sleeved red shirt. The shirt hangs limply on my chest I am average height for ten, but my bones are bare, I guess I am naturally skinny though I am not a great eater. I tie my brown shoes and wait on my bed for the bell. Our rooms are uncomfortably hot in winter the gas heaters let out a terrible smell that fills up the room and unbearable stuffy heat. This is why I tried to keep my window open as much as possible and kept my bed stripped of my duvet. Of course the matron didn't want the snow and rain coming into my already dank room and ordered me to close it. This happened a few times before she lost patience with my actions and padlocked my window shut. Waiting for the bell I feel as though I will suffocate of over used air and toxic fumes.
I am not an orphan. My parents may be dead, but I cannot give myself that kind of respect, as they abandoned when I was a baby at this orphanage unwanted and forgotten. Orphanages should be places for unfortunate children who loose there parents tragically to fires or illness not a dumping ground for unwanted ones. They may be out there somewhere, but I don't want to see them, they left me here wondering about who and where I belong. I know my fathers name was Barrett as that is my surname and they told me it was real not like a lot of the surnames here. My first name is Veda, I like it, I have never met another Veda, nor do I intend to apparently that was a gift of my mother. It is hard to make my name sound harsh with the vibrating v and soft vowels it sounds pretty off the tongue.
I sigh, I have no watch or clock and my only guess of the times is by looking out the window but in these cold winter months the clouds provide darkness all day. I slide off my bed and decide to do something about my hair, it has been lying on my back unbrushed for around a couple days now and it has already developed into matte. I take my brush and bring it threw my impossibly thick hair, no luck. My hair is such a light blonde it is almost white (when it is clean, when it is a shade of dirty grey much to every bodies displeasure apart from my own.) My looks are a hopeless case and when I do look half decent I feel know different and there is no comment so usually I leave them for as long as reasonably unnoticeable. Today I have noticed the untidiness. I wouldn't mind my hair as much if I didn't have black eyes, it looks wrong white hair, white skin and black eyes almost unnatural as if I am looking into blankness. Eyes are meant to be lively and shining but I have never caught a glint in my eyes. Brushing my hair takes a long time and when I am finally done it is static and frizzy, I have no more time for it, so I tie it back high and out of my face.
Someone unlocked my door and momentarily the bell rings, a harsh ear-splitting ring that's not only uncomfortable for my ears but the rest of my body feels a shiver.
Apart from the idiotic boys who are equally soft-headed and don't realise that if you through your food away you won't receive more, breakfast was uneventful. I stealthily retreat to my room while the rest of the students are being coaxed into the garden to get some fresh air which I probably do need but am not willing to sacrifice the chance of doing nothing today for. It is no secret to me and everyone else that I am not a normal girl. Strange things happen to me, things I can't explain often they're convenient and small but otherwise they get me into great holes of trouble that I have no way of getting out of and when I do try to explain the truth people say they're lies.
Just yesterday morning I accidently tore a page in a library book and as I was down getting sticky tape from the store room it must have fixed itself, as when I came up the page was not only whole but with no sign of the rip, convenient but frightening. Sometimes it really gets to me, I think I'm going mad as these things happen as if by magic and magic only belongs in stories read to the youngsters not an almost eleven-year-old such as myself. Most people avoid me, even the matrons and staff spend no longer with me than necessary, I have no one to speak to or share a laugh with. I am confused of who or what I am, because I am not normal that much I know. I know nobody who understands that I am not like the others and doesn't subtly dismiss me as nuisance. At least I don't have to defend my self from bullies as they've realised bad things happen to them when they do, mysterious objects come out of nowhere, possessions go missing, sometimes they get hurt or ill and though there is no proof, I am always to blame. Though I never intend for these things to happen I agree that I must be behind them for whenever these things happen I feel something, sometimes a tingle other times a truly sudden mood change.
I am allowed to play in the hall with the other children, they play tag for a bit until they are tired or slip on the highly polished floor and crumple to the floor. I prefer to stay in my room so I curl up on my bed and write haikus about anything and everything but I am running out of subjects and finding it impossible to find a word rhyming with month. The clock chimes to the hour and I realise that I have been sitting, staring absently at the wall for too long to consider myself sane. Then I realise just how hot I am, I look into my hand miror and see that my cheeks are flushed and blotchy so I head for the door. As I open it I am met with our matron Ms Dipton.
"Veda, sit back down you have a visitor" She remarks looking me up and down ushering me back inside.
It was really very rare to be called on during the day or at all in my case. Some of us have distant relatives who visit on birthdays or whenever they do but nobody has ever come calling for me. The only visitors I remember having were workers from different orphanages but they came for everybody not just me. The matron opened the door and followed by her was a curious middle-age woman. She was tall and wore a long dress of emerald green that came down to her black buckled boots, though she looked stern with frown lines she definitely wasn't angry.
"Thank you, Ms Dipton, may I have a few words with Miss Barrett myself" the stern woman said crisply with a small glance at me. Ms Dipton backed out of my room and closed the door slowly. I immediately averted my gaze at her my eyes pieced threw her own venomous eyes. She looks rather eccentric with her flowing green dress that more resemble robes and shiny silver broach in the shape of a fire bird I've read about, penix no I think it's a phoenix.
"Good-morning Miss Barrett, my name is Professor McGonagall" she starts an obviously prepared speech, Honestly, I knew this would happen some-time she's probably from some looney bin for hopeless cases.
"I am a representative from a boarding school that you have a place at called Hogwarts" I stare at her blankly, I know no school called Hogwarts and am confused how I got a place, my whits are ever absent in class and my grades aren't exactly screaming in my face.
She saw my confusion and discomfort and resumed in a kinder voice. "You are not an ordinary girl Veda"
"I'm sorry but I don't know what you mean" speaking for the first, my voice came out small and constricted but still conveying that I had no idea about anything she was saying and a slight tone of distaste that hopefully she didn't catch.
"Of course, You are a witch and so am I, Hogwarts is a school where you can learn to control your magic." She looked at my unchanged face of disbelief and overpowering confusion, she gave me a brief grin.
"No" I reply quietly "Definitely not, there's no such thing"
"Watch." she pulled a long nobly stick from her cloak and pointed it at a pen on my desk. With a flick of her wrist it levitated into the air and glided over to her open hand. There is no way that was a trick, there's only one explanation for that, Magic.
"I can do that?" I asked in amazement.
"Soon, but only if you agree to come and learn it" she replied.
"You must be mistaken, I mean wouldn't I know if I was a – witch"
"Have you ever made things happen that you can't explain, when provoked or scared." She looks at me and I nod my head once. "There are others like you that have no knowledge of their powers, students with non-magical parents."
"You knew my parents, they weren't like me." I ask eager to know more of my heritage.
"I didn't know your parents, the records show that neither of your parents were magical, though there is definitely magical blood somewhere along your line." She gives me another half-smile, then hands me a thick letter made of yellow parchment addressed in green ink to:
Miss V. Barrett
Room 11
Hickfords' Orphanage
London
"This is your formal invitation to Hogwarts, if you choose to accept" she gives me another look this time expecting an answer.
"-yeah of course" I answer still shocked but slowly starting to believe her. I slide my finger under the envelope and remove the parchment within.
Ms Veda Barret
Room 11
Hickfords' Orphanage
London
Dear Miss Barret
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
"What does it mean we await your owl?" I ask
"Don't worry about that, as long as you are definitely willing I will inform the Headmaster." She replies.
"Also" I am looking at the second piece of parchment now also written in green ink. "Where can I get a cauldron and wand and spell books? I'm sure they don't sell them around here."
"A representative from Hogwarts or myself will collect you closer to the date."
"I can't come" I say suddenly remembering I haven't a penny to my name.
"Why ever not" She responds sternly.
"Well I'm an orphan and I'm sure my parents didn't leave me anything, I can't afford it"
"Nonsense, don't worry about that"
"Okay, this is all real isn't it I'm not dreaming or anything" I finish still struggling to believe.
"Only if you believe it is" she responds, and I grin widely. "That reminds me, don't tell anyone about this, our world is a secret to all non-magic people, I have informed your matron that it is a scholarship for a boarding school for unfortunate children with academic potential." I grimace a little knowing Ms Dipton would never believe I would get a scholarship.
"She doesn't believe that does she" I respond. "I mean, my grades are not impressive"
"Maybe a little magic was involved, perfectly legal for situations such as your own. Now I'd best be going, the students are waiting. And happy eleventh for tomorrow"
"Goodbye" I say, but she is already out the door.
I stay rooted to my bed, scared to move knowing it might awake me from my dream. A witch, it all makes sense all those unexplainable things that happen to me, thinking about it there are many more. But then again it makes me question some things even more, who were my parents and for the first time ever I think of my more distant relations that are like me. I stare at my hands, the hands of a witch, I clutch my face with my hands but they quickly withdraw as my finger-tips are ice. It is funny how different the temperature of different parts of your body are at once, nothing is simple anymore. Today is the 23rd of January and tomorrow I will be eleven years old. And then it is only months away from starting my new life. It seems like the place that I belong has finally emerged and it has been there all along, if not hidden in plain sight.
My birthday was short and unlived with a small round cake devoured by all the kids but me. I am given a big slice but end up giving it to the first person who asks as I am sitting away from the others clutching my knees to my chest. I find it harder now to talk to other knowing I am not like them and am out of place in this world. Friends have never been easy to find, and I know that if there is somebody out there, I will not find them here as The children in the orphanage know I'm weird and the ones out know I'm from an orphanage and that is enough to torment or ridicule anybody no matter who they really are and if they knew who I was really was then it would be a lot worse.
School was a bore dragging on over the subjects of algebra, French and other useless skills I, let alone anyone would never need to know about. Strange things still happen to me but I'm glad when they do as now I know why they happen and they give me a little reminder of my new school and life I will be entering soon. Things started to happen under my control as well, small things like needing a pen, I think precisely, and one will appear nearby these are the times when my new identity excites me the most. The long days turned into never-ending weeks and eventually the monstrous months moved into the holidays. And suddenly I am only a week away from the first of September.
