One

Celina Dumbledore lay on the bed in her private bedroom at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had said that it would be a great year. He had said she would fit in with everyone immediately.

But Lina wasn't so sure.

"Don't worry, Celina," he had said. "You'll make lots of friends. I mean, there's Sirius and James – they're inseparable – and Lily, and Remus, and that odd little boy, Peter Pettigrew – oh, I'm sure you'll get along perfectly with them."

"But Dad, remember?" she had said. She had pulled back her hair and pointed at her ear. "My Special-ness?"

"My goodness, Celina, no one will mind. We have people with their own Special-nesses, right here in the school. People who are dangerous, even. Your Special-ness won't cause any alarm, seeing as how it doesn't make you dangerous."

"So? People will mock me because I'm weird!" she had cried. But then, she had raised her eyebrows. "Who in the school has a Special-ness that's dangerous?"

He shook his head and said, "Never you mind. As for people mocking you . . ." The truth was, he had no response to this statement. She just stood there, her arms folded across her chest, waiting for him to respond.

"You'll be fine," was all he could think of.

Looking back on the conversation, she still wasn't sure he had been right.

For one thing, Celina's physical appearance was a little different from a normal human's. At first glance, she looked like any average teenage girl –long, straight, soft black hair, mystifying blue eyes, and hot as hell itself. But if you were to look closer, at her ears, you would notice a small point at the tip.

For another thing, Celina was, though she looked seventeen, actually four thousand, three-hundred thirteen years of age. This was because she was immortal. Her physical appearance matured much slower than her emotions, thus making her look seventeen.

And both of these factors pointed to one key thing – Celina was an elf.

She had not been born in England, but in another world of which she knew nothing. She had lived there until she was about three thousand years old. At that time, she decided to leave and go somewhere else. Where, she did not know. But somehow, she ended up on Earth, in a city now called London, in the year one thousand.

She lived through the time in an orphanage. The muggles and wizard all thought she was thirteen, seeing as she looked so. It took her two hundred fifty-three years to look a year older, so she was housed in many different homes. Each of her adoptive parents she had told about her uncanny condition, and they had been sworn to secrecy. After they died, then she would travel to another city and go to another orphanage.

Approximately one hundred years ago, Celina had been adopted by a sixty-one year old magic school teacher. After about fifty years, he suggested that she go to the school he taught at, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though uncomfortable with the idea, she attended, and told the students she was a transfer student from another magic school, called Durmstrang, in Germany.

The next couple of years were a complete blur to her. She didn't remember anyone that she was friends with, anything that had happened, any teachers she had had. Her adoptive father, who later became Headmaster of the school, informed her that she had been hit on the head and tragically lost some of her memory. Though she begged and pleaded, he simply told her that he could do nothing to revive her memory.

Celina had not been so sure.

Once again, her father had suggested that she attend the school again, telling the same lie she had told before. She was worried about what would happen at the school. Would she be accepted? Would she find love? Would people find out her secret and mock her for the rest of her life, or even shun her because of her differences? Or perhaps when she was older, she would hear stories about the elf-girl who had attended Hogwarts.

She heard a knock on the door.

"Come in, Dad," she called. Albus Dumbledore stepped through.

"The students are here, Celina. You must go to the Entrance Hall if you don't want to be noticed as different," he said.

"Why?" Celina questioned. Dumbledore was used to this. She commented like his constantly, asking stupid and pointless questions just to vex him. Dumbledore, however, was used to such things. He had had enough tauntings and had the same thing happen with James Potter enough times to double Celina's efforts.

"I already told you this, honey. The students enter into the Entrance Hall, and from there, proceed into the Great Hall for dinner. That is when you will be Sorted. You will have to be prepared to get lots of stares – the students are not used to having a seventeen-year-old under the hat," he answered.

She corrected, "You mean a four thousand, three-hundred thirteen year old."

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course. Are you coming or not?"

"One minute," she said, reaching for her hairbrush. "If I want to pick up any friends, I'll have to at least look like I care about my appearance." She heard the clonk of the wooden door behind her. She hastily brushed her hair and made sure there weren't any bumps.

Reluctantly, Celina looked into the mirror and sighed. "This is as good as it's going to get, babes. Just smile and nod and hope for the best."

She went over to the door and opened it. The corridors were dark, but lit by small torches or candles on the walls. The people in the portraits moved about in their frames as usual. She walked casually over to a small portrait of a pretty girl dressed in a pink frilly dress.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Lina?" the girl asked.

"Well, not completely, Rosalie. I'm afraid they won't like me."

"Oh, cheer up. Of course they will. What's not to like?" Rosalie questioned, not expecting an answer. Lina forced a smile and continued down the corridor.

"There's a lot more not to like than you know, Rosalie," she murmured under her breath as she reached the door to the Entrance hall.

With a sigh, Celina pushed on it and heaved the heavy, wooden door open.