Candice walked up the steps to the Interlochen School of Performing Arts. It was one of the best schools in America, and she had just received word that all of her high school days would be spent at Interlochen. The building looked like a summer camp, and It was, she herself had taken there until now. And her foster family? She had got in on a scholarship, and would stay there by herself until she was ready to take on Broadway. She smiled. Things had gone well. She had had quite a few paying jobs by now, and had enough to support herself. Besides, her parents had left her money when they died. She didn't need her foster parents any longer. She had no love for her foster parents; she had been to at least nine or ten pairs by now since she was orphaned.

She had a dancer's body. Skinny, graceful, pale, with a perfect natural arch to her feet, and though rather small for her age, she was the best dancer in her class. Dance was her love, her passion, and although she was extremely bright, she would live as a dancer her entire life. Candice was an orphan; she had been so since she a baby. It was June 14, on a typical hot Michigan summer day. She had just turned 14, and was here to move into her dorm room, and begin the first chapter on her way to greatness. Of course, she had been taking classes from here since sixth grade, and loved them. Her dark jade eyes shone with happiness as she was shown her room, and left to unpack. Only one thing could ruin her. Sighing painfully, she recalled that day, right after her 11th birthday, when the first letter had come.

This was it. Candice thought as she took the steps two-at-a time. Today she would get it. She put on her ballet shoes, and stood at the very front of the barre. Class began. Her weight was on her toes, her back was ramrod straight, her head was perfectly erect, her toes beautifully turned out, and her arms were as graceful as swan's wings. She went through barre with flaws so tiny only a professional could see them, and Candice loved it. Loved the beauty, loved the grace, the perfection as she sank down into a grande pile. Her foot flowed through the sharp fra-pays, the graceful ron- de-shons, and the high grande battlement. After a quick water break, it was time for center work, work done away from the barre. The teacher demonstrated the flowing, quick movements across the floor, and Candice followed her every word. She shivered with excitement. She hadn't yet nailed her triple pirouette. This is an action in which the foot comes up to the knee, the remaining foot is on tiptoe, and the dancer spins. The music started. Candice took her place, then jumped into the music, to flow with it, to ride with it, to express it. She prepared, choose her spot (an object for dancers to watch as they spin. This keeps them from getting dizzy, they watch their spot until their heads won't turn anymore, and then they whip their heads around.) And felt her balance go just the way she wanted. She had plenty of power, and for a split second Candice thought she had too much, but there she was, spinning in perfect control, in perfect time to the music. Once, twice, three times Candice spun, than held her pose (on leg up to the knee, one on tiptoe) for just a moment longer, then landed it perfectly. She smiled. Her triple pirouette. At the end of the combination, the teacher frowned at her. Everyone knew she wore a wig, and she had called Candice to get rid of her chewing gum. Candice smiled sweetly, and spit it right into her wig.

Candice was in New York, taking dance lessons from Julliard, and she was happy. Strange or unusual things had been happening of late, when she got angry, things would explode, or her thoughts would transfer to another's mind. She had been talking on the phone with her best friend, Ada, when it had happened.

"I know! I couldn't believe the look on her face!"

"That was an utter classic, I swear, Miss Karen will never demand anything of you ever again! You are brilliant, Candice!" Ada exclaimed, referring to the latest prank Candice had pulled on her dance teacher.

"I'm just a bit worried she won't cast me as the lead in the winter performance. You don't think she's that mad, do you?"

"Well let's see, you spit the gum you had been chewing into her wig. After all that talk about ballet dancers should be proper young ladies, you just ruined her wig! I don't think she's very happy with you, but if you don't make the part, it will be her loss and she knows it." They broke off into a fit of giggles. Catching her breath, Candice pulled her long, straight sheet of jet-black hair out of the bun that had confined it, and bounced on her bed with pure excitement.

"I'll bet she has a substitute on Thursday!" Candice laughed, her smile spreading ear to ear, her dark green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I think you're right! But listen, Candice, I have to go. Mom wants me to look after Johnny."

"Bummer. See you tomorrow then!" Candice hung up the phone, and opened her window to the loud, crazy city of New York. She lived in an apartment with her foster parents, and her room was rather plain. They always were. All of her foster parents seemed to think she needed to decorate her own room, a sign of individuality or something. She then pulled her backpack out from under her bed, and began to study. School amused her; she always passed with flying colors. She was a mechanical genius, she had recently designed a door alarm that connected to her laptop and told her the identity of the person outside before unlocking the door. Her door was locked, and her current foster parents had to work during the day, so she would be undisturbed for quite a while. She was quite absorbed in what she was doing. Suddenly, a giant dusty barn owl swooped in through her window, and began to screech at her. She yelled with alarm, and her mouth dropped open. An owl? Surely they only came out at night! She stood on her bed, and took the heavy history book she was holding, and went after the beast that had dared to enter her domain! Yes, this one was sick, and she wasn't going to allow it near her! The bird screeched with indignity, flew out of her window, and hovered on the ledge of the apartment building, barely out of reach. Seething with frustration, Candice ran to her widow and slammed it down, then glanced around the plain room to see if the creature had caused any damage. There was a letter on her bed, where there had been none before. In green ink, it stated, Miss C. Potter, Apartment D26, Rovel Apartments, New York City, New York, United States of America. There could be no mistake; this letter was for her. She opened it, and her mouth dropped open. It stated:

Dear Miss Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Candice finished reading the letter, becoming more and more angry as it went on to say that a school supply list was enclosed, she was to send a letter by owl to them affirming she would be in LONDON by September 1st. When she finished reading it, she was in considerable temper. How dare these people think she would leave her dancing? How dare they cart her off to London? What was this crap anyway? She read it again, then again. She was furious. She stared at the letter, hard. A rumbling sounded in her ears as the letter burst into flames. She jumped a little, then tore about her room for parchment and quill. Succeeding in finding both, she wrote furiously:

I find this a rather cruel joke. I have no interest in attending your Shitcraft School, And would appreciate it if you never contacted me again.

Yours truly,

Candice Potter

Leaving it in an envelope, she checked to see if the owl was still there-- it was. Send your owl. the words rang through her head. The owl had brought the letter. So it made sense that the owl would bring it back. But if the owl thought she was stupid enough to stick her hand out the window to give it the letter, and say 'Bite me, bite me!' the owl was mistaken. Addressing the envelope to 'The Lunatic Hogs with Warts in London She opened her window and retreated to her door. The owl entered the room again, and, giving Candice a reproachful look, grabbed the letter in its beak, and flew away. Candice thought that would be the last she would hear from them.

One week later, another owl came to her window. This one tapped on it until she opened the window and received the letter. This letter was scarlet, and smoking around the edges. Candice did not have to open it; the letter itself started screaming at her. She was horribly scared, and heard the letter out from a position of defiance, very near the door. HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY HAS NOTED YOUR DISREPECT, AND DOES NOT APPRECIATE IT!!! AS A WITCH WITHOUT TRAINING, YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ENTER A TYPE OF MAGICAL LEARNING PROGRAM. HOGWARTS IS ONE OF THE BEST WIZARDING SCHOOLS AND WE HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU ENTER HERE!!!! This was all in a lady's voice, a teacher by the sound of it, strictly pronounced every syllable with increasing fury. Candice had angered these people. The owl was still outside, waiting for a return message. Candice again sought parchment and quill and wrote:

I am highly contented with the life I have at the moment, And wish to stay this way. You cannot force me to go To your school, and I'm not coming. Yours truly,

Candice Potter

Now was time for drastic action. It made her sad, but these people were seriously harassing her, and if there was anything at all being an orphan had taught her, it was to rely on herself, life would always be against her. So she felt it necessary to change her location. The next time the social worker came, she pleaded discomfort in her surroundings. She was moved to Michigan. Here she found Interlochen, and her new life. As for the letters, her next owl visited her in Michigan, this time with a package, instead of a letter. She dared not open the package. And so it sat in her new foster parents' closet until late August, when Candice received yet another owl. This owl contained a letter, and it was white, like any normal letter should be. Still Candice's pretty face contorted into a scowl when she saw it, and opened it with extreme caution. She had concluded that these people were lunatics, and who knew what they could do?

Dear Miss Potter,

Due to your disconsent to agree to be trained as a witch, your abilities have been tested and we are pleased to inform you that you qualify for private training as a mind magician, a special kind of magical talent, found rarely even among the wizarding world. If you open the package previously sent, you will find further instruction to begin your magical education. We warn you that this arrangement can only continue for a maximum of three years. We also feel compelled to remind you that if you choose to reject this offer, we must report you to MoM (Ministry of Magic) and it is highly likely a representative of that organization will force you to comply with our wishes.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Candice doubted these people, more than ever she doubted what she had to learn from them. But this was definitely the best offer they had proposed, she could learn at home, and continue dancing. And as for the time limit, well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it. So she retrieved the package from inside her closet, and stood staring at it for a long time. If the package had been human, it would have quailed under the pretty young woman's defiant gaze. But it was not, and very cautiously and slowly, Candice began to unwrap the package.