Prologue

My whole life I knew I was different from the rest of the kids in my small neighbourhood. For one thing, they were all English boys and girls and had grown up in their little English town. I was from Germany. Even though I spoke very little German, most of it forgotten, everyone still saw me as an outsider. I literally had no friends in England, but I managed.

Anouther thing that separated me from the rest of the kids my age was the fact that I was a witch. We didn't know it at the time, but on my eleventh birthday, our little family from Germany soon realized that there really is such a thing as magic.

It was the summer holidays. Nobody really wanted to do anything because it was beginning to get humid. I hated the humidity. I couldn't really explain why, but I think the main reason was because it made everything really sticky and made my hair curl.

My sister, Silke, was sitting on the sofa reading. I was attempting to nap on the cold hardwood floor, but it was pretty hard. (Duh, it's hardwood!) Father and mother were in the kitchen discussing random things when I heard my mother shriek. Afraid that something was wrong with her, Silke and I both jumped up from our positions and ran to see what was the matter.

However, my mother was just fine, and has only been startled by the fact that a small brown owl had flown through the window and landed on the kitchen table. The owl was small and had black spots scattered all over its delicate feathers. It was strange, seeing an owl in the middle of the day, but what was even more strange, was the fact that it was carrying a letter. I knew people used to use carrier pigeons to send letters to home, but I didn't think people still did that, much less use an owl.

Miss Alita Denkenberger

Bedroom next to the Staircase

18 Maplelawn Road

London

(Author's Note: Please note that I am from New York, and therefore have never been to England so this address is a fake.. And any knowledge I have of England has come from my ickle friend Leah who lives in Scotland.)

The fact that this owl was here was a bit odd, but the letter it was carrying was addressed to me, and whoever sent it not only knew my name and address, but what bedroom was mine as well. 'Stalker' was the first word that came to my mind, but why would anyone want to stalk me? I wasn't exactly one of those beautiful models you see in magazines all around the world. I had big, glassy blue eyes and long brown hair that came down to my shoulder blades. With a thin frame and long slender legs, and random freckles all over my body, I was definitely not model material. Seeing as how the letter was addressed to me, I took it and read its contents carefully.

Dear Miss Denkenberger,

We are please to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary book and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no longer than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

I couldn't believe this. A letter telling me that I truly am a freak after all. I was in hysterics. I started laughing and handed the letter to my parents to read. When my laughter had slowed down to a few giggles I looked up and saw that my father's face was ashen.

"Can you believe this?" I asked still trying to suppress a few giggles.

"Uhm, Alita, there's something I have to tell you all," my father said seriously. He can't be serious. I mean, it's a joke. There's not such thing as magic…right?

"Alita…I'm a wizard," he said slowly. Everyone in the room (minus my dad) stared at him in disbelief. "You're mother is a muggle, a non-magic person, and she didn't know I am a wizard. Since the magical ability skipped Silke's generation, I decided to keep it a secret to see if it skipped yours as well. Obviously it didn't skip you, because not only did you get this letter, but you've shown many signs of being gifted and of Sight too."

"Great. I live with a bunch of nutters," Silke muttered. She was now sitting on the counter top, but got off from it and walked up the staircase and into her bedroom where she slammed the door shut loudly.

By now I had gotten over my laughing fit and said "So it's true? I really am I witch?" Normal children may have been shocked by this news, but I had always known that I was not normal.

"Yes," my father replied as my mother attempted to coax the owl off of her clean kitchen table and back out the still-open window. "I'll take you to Diagon Alley first thing in the morning to get your supplies," father said and then turned to my mother and they continued their conversation from before this interruption. Knowing that I was dismissed, I walked up the staircase and into my bedroom as I wondered where Diagon Alley was.