It was July 18th when I saw the owl, and I was confused. I mean, I live in Arizona! We don't have owls! We have rocks and sand! When I read it, it confused me even more. London was half a world away, and even if I believed in the nonsense the letter said, I wouldn't be able to get there. I didn't have a passport, or even someone to take me.

My mom was dead, and my dad was too drunk to walk, much less drive. He always stayed drunk, and I almost preferred him that way. When he wasn't, he focused all his anger on me. Usually if he was tired, he'd just yell at me, but otherwise, he'd hit me. And no, I don't mean, just a slap on the face. If he was angry enough, he'd punch me, usually in the stomach.

There was no way I was going to tell him I was a witch. He'd give me enough broken bones that I couldn't count them on both hands.

So I wrote a letter back.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I'm sorry to tell you that I can't come to this magic school. I have no way to get a passport, or a ride to the airport, so I must sadly decline. If things were different, like for example, if my dad wasn't drunk 24/7, then I'd love to come, but as things are, I'm afraid he won't let me. I'm sorry.

-Emily (Miles) Flyte

P.S. I don't have any money anyway.

I was even more surprised when I received an answer. Honestly, I'd expected it to be something along the lines of 'sorry if we made things worse,' or 'we're sorry you can't come,' but honestly, never an answer like this.

Miss Flyte,

Location is no inconvenience for us, and we are sending one of our esteemed professors over, Professor Snape, to clear any problems with your father. He will then make accommodations for you to come to London. Money is provided for any Muggle born witch or wizard, (Muggle means non-magic folk), so now, we hope to see you among our new students.

Best of wishes,

-Albus Dumbledore

You know what? This might not be so bad.

The professor came the next day, knocking quietly on the chipped wooden door.

I was sitting at the table staring out the window, when my dad yelled, "GO GET THE DOOR!"

Timidly, I opened the door, expecting one of his poker friends. Instead, I opened the door to the quiet professor.

"Hello. You must be expecting me. I am Severus Snape, but that'll be Professor Snape to you."

So this was the professor.

"WHO IS IT?" My dad yelled. I flinched, leading him to dad's TV room. He followed me with a curious face.

When my dad saw him, he rolled his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you about your daughter."

My dad looked at me suspiciously, "What did you do?"

But Professor didn't let me speak. "She didn't do anything. I'm here to tell you that she has an excellent opportunity."

"Like what, prison?" My dad scoffed.

"No, a school." Professor Snape was being cautious.

"She doesn't go to school. I pulled her out so she could... help... at home." He was trying to cover it up, sensing that Professor Snape could call the authorities.

"If I'm correct, and I am, then the laws here clearly state that she has to go to school until at least ninth grade. So, unless you want me to call the authorities, I suggest you listen."

My dad gulped, Professor Snape had struck a nerve. "Okay."

"This school is in London. All expenses for traveling to the school will be covered for the first few years, until you get used to the idea. So will the uniform, school books, and... other supplies. This is a boarding school, so she will be gone except for the holidays if she wishes, and of course, she will be home for the summer holidays. Letters will come and go by owl, but I see that might be a problem, seeing as there aren't really owls around here. Would you like to hear an alternative?"

"No. It's fine. If she wants to talk to me, she will." My dad glared at him, getting his courage back. "That is, if I even let her go."

Crap! I hadn't considered this!

"What reason would you have to not letting her?"

"Like all the other schools, I'd keep her to help me out."

"What would you need help with?"

"Cleaning the house, serving me and my friends, and fixing the TV when it breaks down."

"So clearly things you can't do yourself, so you have to rely on the help of an 11-year-old, who stays home from school to help you do what? Sit around all day?"

"Y-yes."

"So, basically, no reason at all?"

My dad swore, but I was secretly hopeful. Maybe this professor would convince him to let me go.

"Dad," I started, but before I could say anything else, he swung around and slapped me on the face. Tears welled in my eyes, and I dropped my head, not letting him see.

But out of the corner of my eye, I could see the professor pull something out and the next thing I knew, my dad was laying stick straight on the floor and the professor had knelt down in front of me.

"Are you alright? That must've hurt."

A bruise was already forming, but she shook her head no. "I've dealt with worse."

He stood up, and looked over at my dad, motionless on the floor. "Well, I guess if he wanted you, he's lost the chance. We'll take you to Dumbledore and he'll send you to a new home where you'll have a better father. So now, you can just come with me, and I'll take you to Dumbledore."

I nodded, and we left the room. "I'll get my things."

I had only said that to get the small locket my mother had given me before she had died of cancer. It was the only thing I was going to take, seeing as the only other things I had were the clothes on me and the lumpy mattress that lay on the floor. When I came down, Professor Snape looked around, as if looking for a suitcase.

"Were's your things?"

I showed him my necklace, "This is all I have."

He nodded and with a grim expression, took my arm and suddenly we were somewhere else.

It was sunny, and crisp, and pleasant. We were in a small village, by a shop called Honeydukes. The Professor led me inside and I gaped. Inside was the most candy I'd ever seen in my entire life. The black haired professor smiled at my expression and took me over to a section hosting several jars of jellybeans. He grabbed two and went to the cashier while I looked closer at the matching jars. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Hmm.

When he'd bought the jellybeans, he nodded at the cashier and took me behind the counter, taking slow movements. He led me into a cellar and to a loose slab of stone. When he motioned to the dark hole, I paused.

"It's a secret tunnel."

Still suspicious, I climbed down an old ladder, and into a passage way. He climbed in and slid the stone back into place.

When we got out, we were in a big hallway, with huge windows and enormous statues. He led me to a statue of an gargoyle, and said, "Lemon drops."

Making me jump out of my skin, the gargoyle jumped out of the way, and Professor Snape led me up some stairs to a cozy office. An old man was sitting in a plump chair behind a desk, cluttered in the perfect way, and he motioned to the two chairs in front of it. I sat down, but Professor Snape went around and whispered in his ear. He nodded and Professor Snape went back around and sat back down, giving me a jar of jellybeans. I held it in my arms and looked curiously at the old man.

He smiled at me and said, "As you're probably wondering, I am Professor Dumbledore."

"Hello." I said, curious.

"Hello to yourself." He said, still smiling. "Now, as it seems, we've got to work out a new home for you, seeing as you don't have one at the moment."

I nodded, wondering if he would put me with someone as nice as my mom. It seemed almost impossible.

"Now, I know a family who has wanted a daughter, but ended up with a bunch of sons. Does that sound nice? Mrs. Weasley would absolutely adore you."

I nodded hesitantly. It sure sounded like the brothers wouldn't like me.

"Now, Professor Snape tells me you don't have any clothes, so we're giving the Weasley's some money for your clothes and your school supplies."

He stood up, and so did Professor Snape, so I stood up too. Professor Dumbledore walked around the desk. "Now, Severus, you take Miss Flyte and I'll apparate alone."

Professor Snape took my arm and just like last time, we appeared at a house. Or, it looked like a house, but I wasn't sure. It looked like it had several stories, with only one room on each story. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape started forward, but I held back. Last minute thoughts were racing through my mind.

Finally, I bravely stepped down the path that led to the crooked house. Ahead of me, I could see the two professors talking to a plump red-headed woman and a man with equally red hair. As I neared, they all glanced at me.

The woman started towards me quick, and I flinched, expecting a shout or a glare, but she pulled me into her, my first hug since my uncle hugged me at my moms funeral. I was stick straight, and she noticed that I wan't hugging back after a while.

"Oh, goodness, dear, I'm so sorry!" she cried, "You must be so hungry, traveling like that." She pulled me into the man that I suspected was her husband. He knelt down and smiled at me, before he let Mrs. Weasley pull me into a kitchen with, not one, not two, but four red-headed boys. They all stared at me with wide eyes, like I'd just disturbed a peaceful moment.

They were all strung around the tight kitchen, and I sensed confusion. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came in behind me, followed by Dumbledore. When I looked for Professor Snape, he had gone. I turned back around as Mrs. Weasley started talking.

"Now, boys, I know this is quick, but this is your new sister."

The boys gaped, speechless. But Mrs. Weasley wasn't done.

She went over to the tallest one. "Now this is Percy," and she pointed to two twins, "And this is Fred and George," she tousled the youngest's hair, "And this is Ron."

I was silent until I saw that they expected an answer.

"Hi. I-I'm Emily, b-but y-you can c-call me M-m-miles." I was terrified. So much had happened today, and I could see the look in the oldest boy's, Percy's, eyes. And the twins were still blank, but the one thing that comforted me was the interest in the youngest's, Ron's, face.

"How old are you?" He questioned.

"E-eleven, I th-think."

"What do you mean, 'I think.'? Either you are or you aren't."

"I guess I could be if I wanted to." I was getting more comfortable, and even Mrs. Weasley's shushing couldn't stop his next question.

"You should be eleven, so you can go to school with me this year." He held up a letter that looked exactly like mine.

I took mine out of my pocket and waved it back. He grinned.

"Who gave you your nickname? It's neat." Said one of the twins.

"My mum..." My eyes glazed over while I remembered her smile, that made wrinkles around her eyes.

"Where is she?" said the other twin.

I felt cold. "She-she-she d-died... from c-cancer."

The whole room got silent. They didn't know what that was.

"What's cancer?" Asked Percy.

"It's a-a sickness, that y-you can-can-can..." I trailed off and looked off, my eyes swimming with tears of memory. I remembered her telling me that she was sick, and that she wouldn't be getting better. I had cried myself to sleep, because she was the only light in my life.

Mrs. Weasley bent down to me for a hug, but Ron and the twins beat her to it. They held me tighter than I'd thought possible. I closed my eyes, forcing the tears out of my eyes. Even Percy came and gave my hand a pat, all look of suspicion dissolved. When we finally parted, Mrs. Weasley led me to the table and sat me down. Mr. Weasley took Percy and the twins up to get a room ready for me.

"Now, let's get you fed. Where did you put your trunk, I can have Ron take it to your room."

I faltered. "It's no bother, I wouldn't be able to put anything in it anyway."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"I don't have a trunk, because I don't have anything to put in it."

Professor Dumbledore spoke up. I'd forgotten he was there. "I'll talk to you and Arthur after everyone's finished."

Unsatisfied, Mrs. Weasley made me and Ron sandwiches. When the rest of the family gathered in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley lead Mr. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore out of a door, leaving my in the kitchen with all the boys.

After a moment of silence, Percy said, "We put you in Bill's room, he's our oldest brother. There's Charlie too, but they're both away."

"Where?"

"Bill's in Egypt doing Gringotts work, that's the wizard bank, and Charlie's in Romania studying dragons."

The breath escaped me. My worst fear, next to spiders. "Dragons?" I whispered.

"You're afraid of dragons?" Ron asked.

"Only next to spiders." I laughed.

"Me too!" he laughed.

I sighed, picking up my sandwich. "My dad used to put spiders in my room." I scowled at the thought.

"Why?" Asked one of the twins. "Didn't he know you were afraid."

"Yeah," I said quietly, "That's why he did it."

The room was silent, until Mrs. Weasley walked in and looked at my sandwich.

"Why, you haven't eaten more than a bite! Didn't you say you were hungry?"

"Yes, I was starving, but then I ate. See!" I pointed to the sandwich. I jumped up from my chair, trying to ignore Mrs. Weasley's concerned look. "So, can I see my room?"

"Sure!" The twins exclaimed, taking both of my arms and leading me out of the room. We went up several flights of stairs, finally entering a room that was smaller than mine, but was cozier than the grey mattress I usually slept on. For one, it was actually on a bed frame, and I had a dresser (empty for now), and an empty chest. I flopped down on the bed and I heard the twins get driven away by Mrs. Weasley.

"Dear, if there's anything you need, just let me know. I'll have Ron give you a night-shirt. We're going shopping tomorrow with the money Dumbledore gave you, so we can fill that dresser up. But for now, I think you need some rest. I'll have Ron wake you up for dinner." With that, she shut the door.

I looked up at the ceiling, taking in all the change. I knew how I could get used to my new family, but how could I forget my old one. My mother was the sun in my life, my dad the shadows she made. He only hit me because she had told him once when they were fighting that she loved me more than she'd ever loved him. He then turned around and hit me. I was five, but I still feel the angry bruise I had received. My mom held back a gasp and picked my up, taking me to another room. She then shut the door and locked it. Kneeling down, she old me how much she loved me and that she wouldn't let him do that again.

That was the day she got sick. She was putting me in the car to take us to my Uncle Roy's house, but she started coughing, and it got worse. By the time we got there, she was weak at the wheel. I couldn't unbuckle my seat belt enough to get help, so I sat there crying. Suddenly, her head slumped down, and she took her final breath.

Uncle Roy found me five minutes later, crying and sweaty. He took me out and gave me to his wife Nora, and went to collect my mom.

With those thoughts on my mind, I slowly fell asleep.