The sun sank beneath the clouds, bathing the neighborhood in a red glow. A balding man dressed immaculately in a suit held a baby in his arms, rocking the child back and forth gently.

The short woman next to him spoke up quietly. "Are you sure we should do this, sir?"

"Yes." He answered reluctantly. "The girl should be with her remaining relatives. Jiaying and Cal would have wanted that."

"But with these people? I've been watching them all day, they're the worst sort of muggles! They don't understand anything about Hogwarts, about the girl's heritage! She is special - every child in our world will know her name, will know what she survived."

"Exactly. It's better for her to grow up away from all of that." The man placed the baby gently on the doorstep, kissing her briefly on the forehead.

"Good luck, Daisy Johnson."

...

"Mary-Sue! Wake up, girl!"

Skye groaned as her uncle banged on the door. "I'm up!" She yelled through the thin door of the small closet that served as her bedroom.

She could hear her cousin Raina jumping on the steps gleefully and shouting. "Poots! Wake up, Poots!"

Skye got up and got dressed before walking into the kitchen.

"Don't just stand there, get the mail!" Uncle Gordon told her tersely, before going back to his breakfast.

Skye retrieved the mail and was about to return to the kitchen to hand the bills to Uncle Gordon when she noticed a letter addressed to her. It was addressed to her chosen name, no less, and bore no return address.

Skye

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

Number 4

Afterlife

Chinatown

San Francisco

Casting a furtive look around, Skye gazed at the letter in shock. Who would bother writing to her? She didn't have any friends at school, and anyone from school would have addressed the letter to Mary-Sue Poots.

She was just about to open the letter when Raina ripped it out of her hands and cried, "Dad! Look, Mary-Sue's got a letter!"

Uncle Gordon scoffed as he took the letter. "Who'd be writing to you?" Turning it over, he turned pale suddenly when he saw the wax seal on the back. Before Skye could grab it back, he tossed it into the fireplace.

"Just junk mail. You see, they even put the wrong name on the front." He said, looking incredibly smug and self-satisfied.

"That was my letter!" Skye cried angrily. "You had no right to take it! My name is Skye, and whoever wrote the letter knew that I chose it for myself! My parents didn't name me Mary-Sue, and that's not my name!"

Uncle Gordon sneered at her condescendingly. "Of course they didn't name you that, they were worthless drug addicts. The name they gave you was silly and unsuitable, so I had to make sure you got a proper one."

Skye angrily stomped out of the room, wiping away her tears. Frustrated, she retreated to her cupboard and silently cursed out Uncle Gordon and Raina. Mentally picturing them being chased by bears made her feel a little better, but she couldn't stop thinking about the strange letter. Who was the author of the letter? How did they know she wanted to be called Skye, and what did they want to tell her?

The next few days the pattern repeated itself, as she received a new letter each day, but every time she found one on the doorstep, Uncle Gordon got ahold of it before she could read it. He burned every single one in the fireplace, smirking as Raina laughed at Skye's misery.

Finally, several days later, a flood of letters came through the fireplace, and Uncle Gordon couldn't avoid it any longer.

He decided that they were going to go away, far away, where the mysterious author of the letters would never find them.

...

They drove for several days before reaching an isolated cabin with a laser grid fence around it, where Uncle Gordon announced that they would be staying there for the foreseeable future.

That night, Skye lay on the floor in a musty sleeping bag, trying to ignore the sounds of Raina's snoring in the bed next to her and drawing a birthday cake in the dust on the floor.

"Happy Birthday, Skye." She whispered to herself as she watched the display on her watch change to 12:00, marking the beginning of her birthday.

Suddenly, the front door fell to the floor with an almighty crash. Skye jumped, and Raina fell off the bed and hit the floor with a scream.

In the doorway stood a man in a suit. He looked around before his gaze fell onto Skye on the floor.

"Skye? You don't have to be afraid." He said.

"Who are you?" She said as she got up from the floor, holding her fists in front of herself protectively. "And how do you know my name?"

He smiled amiably. "My name is Phil Coulson, but most people call me Coulson. I am here on behalf of Hogwarts. I'm the Headmaster there, you see. I haven't received your response, so I came to make sure you received your letter."

Skye frowned and tilted her head, confused. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you're talking about. You sent that letter? What did it say? And what's Hogwarts?"

"Well, the Deputy Headmaster, Professor May, sent your letter. And as for Hogwarts, well, didn't you wonder where your parents learned it all?"

"Learned…what, exactly?" Skye said.

Coulson's expression darkened somewhat, and he suddenly seemed to notice then Uncle Gordon and Raina cowering in the corner behind the couch. "You didn't tell her about any of it, I suppose! Did you even have the decency to tell her about Jiaying and Cal?!"

"Now see here," Uncle Gordon said, puffing up his chest in an effort to seem more manly. "I swore when I took her in after she was dumped on my doorstep that she'd be normal! I had to go through a lot, change her name even, but I did it so that she wouldn't be a freak like my sister was!"

Coulson's expression didn't change, but his voice turned to steel. "Jiaying and Cal weren't freaks. They were good people until they were killed by Death Eaters."

Skye was even more puzzled now, but she finally caught onto a part of the conversation that she could follow. "You knew my parents?" She asked.

Coulson smiled when he looked at her. "Not very well, I'm afraid, but I did know them a little. We were in the same year at Hogwarts, you see, but in different houses."

"Is anyone going to tell me what Hogwarts is?" Skye huffed, frustrated and confused.

"Well, Skye, as your uncle apparently hasn't told you about any of it, I suppose I'd better tell you." Coulson sighed. "You're a witch, Skye."

"A - a witch?" She asked, disbelieving.

Coulson just smiled and handed her a letter, the front of which had the same strange address as the very first one she had seen.

Skye ripped open the long-anticipated letter and saw, to her surprise, a note telling her when to be at King's Cross Station in London, and a list of supplies with weird names.

"What is all of this? And what kind of school is this Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts is a school of magic for young witches and wizards, Skye. It is located in England, but we accept students of all nationalities. Your parents attended, and so did I."

"I - I don't understand. Magic? But I'm nothing special." Skye replied, looking at Coulson in confusion. "How can I have magic?"

Coulson looked at her sadly. "Really? Nothing special? Tell me, Skye, have you ever had strange things happen to you, things you couldn't explain? Things your uncle told you were just your imagination?"

Skye looked at him and knitted her brows together in thought. Suddenly, it began to make sense. The times the house shook as if there was an earthquake when she was upset, the times things suddenly fell off the shelves of her cupboard when she was angry. Had it been magic all along? Was this why Uncle Gordon hated her, why he had hated her parents? Because they were magical, and he wasn't? Well, if Coulson was offering her a place at his magic school, in England no less, she wouldn't say no to the opportunity to get away from Uncle Gordon and Raina.

"I'd love to go to your school, Mr. Coulson, but I don't have any money to pay for all of this stuff." Skye said regretfully, looking down at the letter. "And I don't know where I would even get it."

"I figured as much." Coulson said. "Don't worry, I'll take you to Diagon Alley to get your school things. I believe there is an account in Gringotts Bank that your parents set up before their death to pay for your school expenses. If you come with me, we can buy your supplies and get you settled for the school year. The train leaves next week, after all."

"All right, Mr. Coulson." Skye nodded decisively. "I'll come with you. Anything's better than staying here."

She turned to Uncle Gordon, who was looking strangely purple, his hands clenched into fists. Behind him, Raina was watching the exchange nervously, her mouth half open in an expression of confusion.

"She's not going anywhere with you!" Uncle Gordon shouted angrily.

Coulson's placid expression did not change, but Uncle Gordon took a step back when he stepped closer.

"I really don't think you have a say in that, do you? If Skye chooses to go to Hogwarts then she will go to Hogwarts." He turned to Skye, and gave her a smile. "Why don't you pack your things, Skye, and we'll head to my hotel. I've booked both of us a room at the Leaky Cauldron in London."

Skye nodded eagerly, and wasted no time in gathering her stuff and shoving it in her backpack. She hadn't taken much when they had left for the cabin, but then she didn't have many possessions she was particularly attached to. All her clothes were hand-me-downs from Raina, and the few old superhero action figures she treasured were at the bottom of her bag.

She disappeared into the bathroom to quickly get dressed, and emerged with her shoes on and her backpack in hand.

"Ready to go?" Coulson asked.

Skye nodded, shouldering her backpack and giving him an eager smile. "I'm ready, Mr. Coulson."

"All right, then, let's go. Goodbye Gordon. I hope your attitude towards magic will have improved by the time Skye returns for the summer holidays."

Skye grinned and gave her uncle and cousin a sarcastic wave. "Bye guys, catch you later!"

With that, she followed Coulson out of the door and got into the red convertible parked outside.

"Well Skye, do you have any questions about anything I've said? We'll be traveling a few hours, I'm afraid." He pushed a button and the car hovered a few feet from the ground, the engine rumbling loudly. "I have made some modifications but Lola's flight speed is still slower than I'd like."

Skye's jaw dropped as she gaped at Coulson. "Your car flies? That's so cool!"

Coulson smiled and pushed the accelerator. The car began to rise higher and higher, the cabin shrinking to a small dot in the distance. "Thank you Skye, I'm glad you think so."

He pushed another button and the roof clicked into place, cutting off the strong wind that had begun to blow inside the car.

"So, Skye, did you have questions?"

"Yeah, actually." Skye said, looking away from the window. "You said you knew my parents. What were they like?"

Coulson nodded and hit a few buttons, putting the car into autopilot before turning back to look at her.

"Well, the first thing you should know is that your parents didn't name you Mary-Sue Poots."

"I knew that." Skye said impatiently. "So what did they name me?"

Coulson smiled. "Daisy Johnson. Your name is Daisy Johnson."