Prologue
She listened to the sound of the television running in the background. Dull noise filled with bouts of static that had become a part of her every day. Even when she closed her eyes she still heard the sound of the crackling television.
Pulling her hands from the sudsy water, she turned the faucet on. The water came out a gush of brown for just a moment, filled with rust from old plumbing lines that have long since needed repair or replacing before going clear enough to rinse the soap from her cracking hands. Above the crackling television was the sound of murmuring that was also familiar to her. Like the sound of a ticking clock; incoherent muttering with no syllables, no words -or so she believed.
"Supper will be ready in a moment." She called into the other room, but not loud enough to startle the old man who sat and rocked back and forth in the tattered old recliner. She looked back at him, greasy looking red hair draped over her shoulders.
She could see the vacant look in the man's eyes, his fingers twitching against the arm of the seat, scratching at the worn fabric. "Did you hear me-" She was interupted when an owl landed on the tree branch just outside the dirty, finger print stained, crack adorned window over the sink. Too small to fit through, too old to open any farther than what was big enough to fit an arm through. Her eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why there was an owl in the middle of the day time, but even more so, it seemed to have a letter in it's beak.
She didn't know if there were any people on the back country roads who owned owls, or let alone had trained them to be carrier birds, as she rarely left the house save to do grocery shopping to take care of her father and mother. It looked at her for a moment, head tilting from one side to the other, then extended it's wings and fluttered, wedging the letter through the opening, getting the corners caught up in scrapped up screen.
She lashed out, grabbing the letter before the breeze shook it free of it's wire webbing and pulled it through the large hole. On the front of the letter written in green ink, ascribed in Calligraphy was the address of the home, and her name at the top. She stared at it, eyebrows furrowing, lips parted as her eyes skimmed the coat of arms at the top of the envelope.
Her eyes flickered back up to the window where the owl had roosted wondering who the bird belonged to, and why they had sent her this piece of parcel. Was it a hoax? Was it chain mail? They certainly had gone out of their way to make this seem very unique.
Licking her lips, she flipped the letter over, looking at the wax seal on the back. She wasn't sure if she should open it -for all she knew it could have been an anthrax bomb waiting to blow up in her face and kill her and everyone in the house who came into contact with it. But curiosity got the better of her.
Hooking her thumb under the seal, she pulled it up and pulled the yellowish tinted parchment paper out. Unfolding it, she turned it around, eyes drawn to the large font letters at the top of the page that read Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had no idea why she had received something so ridiculous, and in such an outlandish way, but it wasn't enough to keep her eyes from skimming the rest of the writing.
"Dear Ellenyx Fairbourne,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students shall be required
to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival. We await your owl
no later than 31 July.
Please make your way to Kings Crossing Station and onto platform 9 ¾
where you will meet the Hogwarts Express. Term begins on 1 September.
We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation
of Hogwarts Heritage.
Due to forseen events, we welcome you to our family as it is now your time.
Yours Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
She was so stunned at the complete and utter preposterous notion that anyone would believe they could con someone into following the instructions in this letter. Hogwarts? Witches? Wizards? All of it was completely insane. Suddenly, there was a screaming. The back door slammed open and her head snapped up, hands dropping the letter to the floor. A woman with shoulders as wide as a suitcase coming in, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot and sunken in around bags of wrinkles. Her heart fluttered as she took a step back, the woman ascending on her quickly.
"What 'ave y'done ta 'im!" She squalled, tall and lanky. A plank of wood would have more curves and definition than this woman; her clothes hanging from her like blown away laundry upon the branches of a gnarled, spindling tree. "What 'ave y'done ta 'im!" She shrieked again, knotted hand lifting.
The girl gasped, stepping back on the cracked linoleum flooring, hands up to hide her face from the collision. The world seemed to slow down around her, her eyes catching the bloodshot, yellows of the woman's dusky gray eyes.
A fistful of knobby, twisted knuckled came down on her, a tarnished wedding ring decorated in chips and scratched off words promising eternal love catching her forehead and leaving a nasty scrape. Her vision flashed white for a moment as the blunt force pushed down into her eye, her head dipping from the blow.
A loud shattering noise reached her ears, followed by the sound of flesh hitting the floor and immediately, she was filled with terror. Looking up, she saw the twisted body of the woman on the floor, hands over her mouth with horror stricken eyes. The smell of musk and urine reached her nose, and her eyes glided from the stained and cracked black and white checkered flooring to the doorway of the den where she saw the glassy eyed figure of the man who'd left his seat.
He stared at the woman on the floor, a look of confusion on his face; he was desperately trying to place a name with the sallow faced woman on the floor, paling and blank expression minus the gaping mouth of shock.
"Wh-who is tha'?" He asked. "I don't...wh-where is-" He staggered out, his socked feet puttering slowly across the floor. "I-I don't..." He stared at her. For the first time in years, a look of clarity came to those normally blank, lifeless eyes. "Ellen," His voice quivered. He lowered himself to the floor, hands shaking as he reached for her, his hands gliding across a thick latex band wrapped around the stick thin upper part of a needle pocked arm. "Ellen!" He sobbed, grabbing her and pulling her to his chest.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't- I-I can't," The girl tried to step forward, hands reaching out to help, but the man pulled away, a look of fear in his eyes as tears raced down the trenches age had left on his face.
"Help!" He started screaming. "Help! We've been attacked!" He shouted, making her jump, breath caught in her throat. "She killed my wife! Heelp!" She stepped away from him, terrified of his shouting, she looked out the window. The neighbor stepped out onto his steps, a look of confusion on his face as the old man sat on his knees, holding the corpse of his wife. Bending down, she grabbed the letter, taking a couple steps back when a glass mug went flying towards her, shattering against the wall behind her.
She yelped, hiding behind her arms as the man continued screaming. Knowing her presence was only going to make things worse, she turned and made her way through the small home, ducking through the low door frames and out the front door, the sound of his screaming following her as she fled, hands shaking.
Her life would never be the same.
