Alexa had lived in Scotland since she was three. And not just any town in Scotland. No, she lived in Hogsmeade.
Every morning, Alexa threw her curtains open and looked off into the distance, to the castle on the hill. Second Wizarding War damage was still visible, even from this far away, but she thought it only added to the Hogwarts castle charm. When she was five, she made her first trip inside the castle gate. Harry Potter had come to give a ten-year anniversary speech, to commemorate the those who died in the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd ruffled Alexa's hair that day. She got her very first play wand from George Weasley, who was giving them out to everyone under the age of eleven. Hogwarts, and its history, were her dream.
Her eleventh birthday had come in April. It was now June. Long summer days shone over Hogsmeade, and it was full of life. Students were home for summer. They filled the streets with summer vacation enthusiasm and energy. Visitors came to have lunch or tea with the professors, who were constantly spotted in town without students and essays to worry them. Butterbeer was iced during the day and steaming hot at night, and Alexa loved it both ways. The village was at its best in the summer.
But as June ended, the most terrible thing happened. Her other 11-year-old friends started coming back from trips to London, sporting white shirts and sweater vests, black skirts and trousers. And, most importantly, generic Hogwarts robes. They had acceptance letters, and Alexa did not.
"Pop, I have a question," she said one afternoon. Her dad was enchanting their garden to swing and dance in the wind. He especially liked dancing daisies.
"Yes, kiddo?" A tulip was whistling in the corner, and he cast a silencing charm on it.
"How come Tom and Lisette have Hogwarts acceptance letters? And I saw James Potter in town yesterday, wearing generic Hogwarts robes and walking with Teddy."
"Teddy? Teddy who?"
"Lupin."
"How do you know Teddy Lupin?"
"I met him at Honeydukes last village trip from school."
"Huh." He left the daisies alone to go over to the tulips, who were flapping in frustration that they couldn't whistle. "Well, maybe some of them bought their robes pre-maturely."
"Nuh uh. I've seen Tom's letter. It has Professor McGonagall's signature and everything."
"Alexa."
"What?"
Her pop turned away from his flowers and sat on the old tree stump. He reached out for her hand and tugged her closer to him. At least he had learned not to invite her into his lap. On a visit to Diagon Alley last year, he'd tried that very thing and she put up such a fuss that they were allowed back to Flourish & Blotts for three months. No, he'd learned how to hold her hand, and hold it gently. "Kiddo, who was able to make a spell work from a fake wand?"
"I was."
"Absolutely you were. That means you'll get your letter. You'll see."
"It's not fair. I want to be walking around in my generic Hogwarts robes, too."
But he said nothing. He just leaned forward to kiss her temple. It was still an embarrassing gesture, but it was their own back garden, and there were garden walls, so she allowed it.
"Alexa, a letter for you," mum called.
She could have been a phoenix with how fast Alexa appeared in front of her mother, eyes wide and heart pounding. This was it. Her letter. Her acceptance. Her gateway to her new life. Shaky hands removed the letter from her mother's grasp. Alexa needed to see her name on the front of the envelope before ripping it open. As she turned it over, pop showed up mum's back, his hand squeezing her shoulders.
Red lettering.
Her lettering was red. It wasn't green. It also wasn't the expected calligraphy, but looked more like it had been pressed by a worn out, old fashioned press.
Alexa King
17 Honeydukes Drive
Hogsmeade
Scotland
"Why is my lettering red?"
"Open it and find out," pop coaxed, smiling widely.
She did as ordered, fumbling through the words on the page. Her heart jumped into her throat as tears pierced her eyes. Reading the first line over and over again did not change what it said. No amount of magical would change what it said.
Dear Miss King, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the Salem Witches' Institute.
"No. No!"
She tossed the letter into the fireplace, but as soon as it was reduced to ashes, the letter reappeared, unscathed, back in her hand.
Her mum tried to comfort her, crouching beside her, a loving hand on her lower arm. "Alexa, honey, it was my school, and we are all still American. We just live here, you know? You've always known that.
Alexa shook her head and crumbled to the floor. "No."