Thanks to everyone who followed and favourited! Please review if you can; I want to know what people think about the things I've changed and about Madeleine in general.

CHAPTER THE SECOND: A STRANGE LETTER

True to her word, Aunt Petunia had brought Madeleine some ice, as well as a large sandwich, and a cup of water. This kindness in itself was almost enough to make Madeleine's longest cupboard–punishment ever worth it. By the time she was let out, the summer holidays had started and her cousin had already broken his new camera, crashed his remote–controlled airplane, and knocked poor old Miss Figg down while on his racing bike. Meanwhile, Madeleine had drawn twenty more pictures, read all of her books three times each, memorized all the messages from the box and copied them carefully in her journal, just in case, and taught herself how to sew.

Madeleine was not very glad that school was over, to be honest. Now there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who came over every day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid and sense Dudley was the biggest and stupidest, he was naturally their leader. They were all happy to join in on Dudley's favourite pastime: Potter–hunting.

Dudley, at least, had been raised not to hit girls, even his cousin, so on the rare occasions when they caught Madeleine, they would usually push her down and laugh, pull at her long hair, or, occasionally, kick her.

Most of the time, however, they couldn't catch Madeleine at all, a fact which made the young girl very smug indeed. Still, she spent most of her time out of the house, wandering the neighbourhood, going to parks, and looking through nearby stores. Part of this was because Madeleine loved wearing her new clothes in public. For the first time in her life, she felt very confident. The box was proof that her parents cared about her greatly – and were probably very smart, sense they made the box look so much smaller than it was – and that meant that Madeleine had been right her whole life. Her parents hadn't been drunks or ne'er-do-wells; they were good people who go into an accident, simple as that.

And Madeleine rather thought the new clothes flattered her a bit.

She could see hope, come summer's end. Madeleine would be headed off secondary school at Stonewall High, and Dudley would be shipped away to Smelting's, Uncle Vernon's old school. For the first time in her life, Madeleine would not be with her cousin. Perhaps then, she thought, she might make a friend or two. After all, without Dudley to scare everyone nice off, she was at least a bit likeable, right?

When Dudley showed off his new uniform one night in July, Madeleine had to actively hold her hand to her mouth to stop from snickering. He wore a maroon tailcoat, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, which were used for hitting other children when the teachers weren't looking.

While Uncle Vernon gruffly declared it the proudest day of his life and Petunia sobbed, Madeleine prayed her ribs wouldn't crack from the pressure of holding back sniggers.

The day everything changed started out very normal. Madeleine made breakfast, Vernon read the paper, Dudley watched television while wolfing down food, and Petunia ate her breakfast in tiny, dainty bites.

They heard the click of the letter box and the flap of letters hitting the mat.

"Go get the post, Dudley." Vernon said gruffly from behind his paper.

"Make her get it!" Dudley wined.

"Get the mail, girl."

"Make Dudley get it." Madeleine countered.

"Smack 'er with your stick, Dudley."

Madeleine dodged the stick, stuck her tongue out at Dudley, and went to get the post. Three things lay on the doormat; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and a letter for Madeleine.

Madeleine gasped aloud and nearly dropped the mail. Wait – a letter for her? She had never gotten any mail in her entire life! She had no friends, no relatives other than the Dursleys – who would send her something anyway? But yet here it was, addressed so plainly on thick yellow parchment that there could be no mistaking it:

Miss M Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was heavy, and the address was written in emerald green ink. There was no stamp. Madeleine turned it over. On the back was a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'.

Madeleine couldn't believe her eyes. It was real! A letter, for her!

She grinned and began to open it, only to be interrupted by her uncle yelling, "What are you doing, girl? Checking for letter bombs?"

Madeleine jumped and quickly stuffed the letter in her sweater before rushing back into the kitchen.

"About time!" Vernon huffed, taking the bill and the post card. Madeleine sat down at the table, trying not to look suspicious.

"Oh, poor Marge is ill. Apparently she ate a funny whelk…." Uncle Vernon informed Aunt Petunia, who shook her head sympathetically.

Madeleine was barely able to focus enough to make herself eat her breakfast when all she really wanted to do was to get away to read her letter. She wasn't stupid enough to think that she could open it at the table and get away with it; the Dursleys would surely take it out of spite.

So she waited.

Finally, one by one, the Dursleys began to leave the table. Vernon went to work, Dudley went upstairs to blow up aliens on his computer, and finally, after clearing the table and receiving a nod from her aunt indicating she would wash this time, Madeleine went to her cupboard, forcing herself not to run.

Once inside, she pulled a string, turning on the only light in the room, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, and pulled out her letter, opening it quickly. The message inside was also written in emerald ink, and read as follows:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,

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

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

It was as if the world stopped turning. Madeleine could hear the sound of the water in the kitchen as her aunt washed the dishes, and she could hear Dudley's triumphant cries as he killed things on his computer, but none of it registered. All she could think about was this letter.

Hogwarts was the school her mother had gone to. It was on one of the messages in her box. And maybe – maybe magic could explain all the strange things that happened to Madeleine. Her hair growing back, the glass disappearing, Uncle Vernon punching the wall, and all the other incidents, like when her teacher's hair had turned blue, or when she had somehow ended up on top of a building while being chased by Dudley's gang.

Numbly, Madeleine set the letter down and examined the next piece of paper. It seemed to be a supply list:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves(dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Waynery by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"T–this…" Madeleine stammered, running her fingers over the letter. "This – this can't be real!"

But magic would explain the box, a voice in her head pointed out. Not to mention the snake you talked to.

And if it was fake, Madeleine realised, who would have sent it? Not the Dursleys, certainly – they had no sense of humour, and anyway hated magic too much to even joke about it. Who else? She had no friends, no other family….

At that moment, Madeleine heard an almost–familiar click. Her eyes immediately went to her box, and she saw that it was opening again. Madeleine gasped and climbed to her knees, leaning closer and hoping for answers from the strange chest.

For the first time in her life, answers came.

A pink envelope rose from the box, floating up and then towards Madeleine. She was too shocked to even move to grab it, but luckily she didn't have to. It slowly opened, and a letter slid out, unfolded itself, and – here, Madeleine had to hold back a shriek – began to speak.

"My dearest daughter," it began, in a soft, kind voice that made bursts of nostalgia appear in Madeleine's mind, "if you are reading – or, rather, listening – to this letter, that means your father and I are gone. This letter was to appear the day you received your Hogwarts letter, to explain to you a few things, in case you haven't heard them yet.

"Firstly, you are a witch. As in, wands and broomsticks and cauldrons. Hogwarts, where both I and your father went, is the best school in Europe for young witches and wizards. Your tuition for this school was paid in full by us when you were born, just in case. At Hogwarts, you can learn about magic and how to better control it and use it. It's wonderful there – a large beautiful castle that becomes like a second home to you. I miss it greatly.

"I don't know where you were taken if your father and I were killed, but my first assumption is that you're living with your aunt and uncle, my sister Petunia and her husband, since they are your only family. If so, I hope you are happy and that they're treating you very well. However, I doubt they have told you about who you really are, about your heritage and your past, so I will tell you now.

"If your father and I are dead, it means we were murdered by a very dark wizard, a man named Voldemort. Most people in the wizarding world call him You Know Who or He Who Must Not Be Named. You see, he rose to power a few years before you were born, and he is very, very powerful now. Hopefully by the time you hear this, he will be gone. Once Voldemort targeted someone, there was no hope, and that's probably why you are listening to this now. For some reason, he targeted you. My only hope is that your father and I are able to save you.

"Madeleine, don't ever feel like it's your fault we were killed. Part of being a parent – being a person, really – is willingness to die for your children or someone you love. Please always remember that we love you very much, and that no matter what you will make us proud.

"In a few days, someone from Hogwarts, a teacher, will come and explain more to you, then take you to get your school things. The place you will buy them is called Diagon Alley. It's in London, and the entrance in through a pub called The Leaky Cauldron, which is next to Madam Louis's Hat Emporium. The key on your charm bracelet opens your vault at the wizard bank, Gringotts, which is run by goblins, and you'll use that to get your money. Just remember to keep an open mind, and remember it can always get stranger in the wizarding world.

"I love you, my dear, and I hope you are safe and happy. With all affection, your mother."

It was silent in the cupboard for nearly three minutes. Madeleine couldn't even hear the sink running or Dudley's computer game anymore over the rush of blood in her own ears.

"A bolt from the blue." Madeleine mumbled, reaching out to grab the letter from midair and looking over it. It was the only thing she could think of to say that accurately described how she was feeling.

The letter, written in the same curly script as the notes, said exactly what the voice – her mother's voice, Madeleine reminded herself – had read out. She could hear in echoing in her mind as she re–read the letter over and over again.

Magic was real. If her mother said so, it must be true. And all this about a Dark Lord – Madeleine knew that scar hadn't come from a car crash! He probably tried to kill her as well….but what stopped him from finishing it?

However, Madeleine couldn't focus on that. She was slowly realising how much of a lie her life had been up until now. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon obviously knew about all that – that must have been why they got so angry when she did strange things! So why didn't they tell her? Or at least not lie to her about it?

The more Madeleine thought about all this, the angrier she became. She held the letter in her hands, shaking from fury, and didn't even notice that her knickknacks on the wall were shaking, or that the light bulb above her was flickering. Upstairs, Dudley cursed as his computer switched off, then was forced to dive from his chair when it suddenly flew off the desk towards his face. In the kitchen, Aunt Petunia shrieked as the food mixer and the kettle both went off.

The door to Madeleine's cupboard flew open, and she slowly stepped out, still looking at her mother's letter and holding her Hogwarts letter in the other hand. All the lights in the house were now flickering as she walked unhurriedly to the kitchen, her eyes still on her letter. Aunt Petunia gasped as the kitchen door opened of its own accord, then her eyes grew wide when she took in what was held in her niece's hands.

"Oh no…" Petunia said, her hand on her chest. Madeleine looked up at her, her face frighteningly blank.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said calmly – too calmly.

"No – no, you can't be," Petunia stammered, seeming to almost be talking to herself. "Everything else was just a coincidence. You're not – you're not like her, no…"

"Why did you lie to me?!" Madeleine cried out. A glass on the table exploded, and Petunia flinched. "Car crash, you said! They were murdered and you couldn't be bothered to tell me?!" Madeleine was angrier than she had ever been in her life, and Petunia looked more frightened than she had ever been before.

"All this time – and I was starting to believe maybe I was a freak," Madeleine spat, taking a step closer to her aunt. "But I'm not! I'm a witch! And all these years you've hated me for it, hurt me for it, as if it was something I could control!"

Madeleine was crying tears of anger now.

"You could if you tried!" Petunia suddenly shrieked, making Madeleine jump. "Lily could control it! You could stop being one if you wanted to! That's why I took you in! I thought – I thought I could help you, make you normal, so that you wouldn't have to go off to that place just like my sister and her freakish husband–"

"MY FATHER WAS NOT A FREAK!" Madeleine screamed, and to Petunia's horror, she saw that her niece was staring to glow slightly, like a flashlight that's almost out of battery. "HE WAS A GOOD MAN! He cared about me – I know it! I have proof! Just because he and my mother could do magic doesn't mean they were freaks! For all I know, wizards and witches came first and you're the freak! You and Dudley and Uncle Vernon and everyone like you!"

Petunia was shaking in fright now as Madeleine slowly began to hover a few inches off the ground. The young girl didn't seem to notice.

"My mother's letter told me that someone is coming from the school in a few days to tell me more, and there's nothing you can do to stop that!" Madeleine continued. "And I'm going to go to Hogwarts – it's already paid for and everything! And I'm going to be great. I'll show all of you."

"THE HELL YOU WILL!" roared a voice behind Madeleine. Startled, she lost her concentration and landed back on the floor. The lights stopped flickering, and the kettle and food shredder turned off. Madeleine turned to see Uncle Vernon in the doorway, redder that he had ever been, glaring at her. Behind him, cowering behind the railing on the stairs, was Dudley. For once, however, no one paid him any mind.

"I TOOK YOU IN ON THE CONDITION THAT WE COULD GET THAT WEIRD STUFF OUT OF YOU!" Vernon yelled, advancing on his niece. "Stomp it out, just as Petunia's mother and father should have done with Lily," he spat her name as if he was talking about Hitler. "I thought we could turn you into a normal citizen, but I was wrong. Well, it's too late to return your ungrateful hide, but I can tell you one thing–" Here he leaned closer to Madeleine, so much so that she could smell his breath. "They won't ever find you. Now. Give. Me. Those. Letters."

"No!" Madeleine said immediately, but Vernon had been ready for that.

A slap across the girl's face sent her to the floor, hard enough to send stars across her vision, and the letters were snatched from her grip.

"No!" Madeleine yelled as Vernon crossed to the fireplace. "Give them back! You can't do that, they're mine!"

Sneering, Uncle Vernon tossed the letters into the fireplace before Madeleine could even stand up. The Hogwarts letter immediately crumpled and burned, but Lily's letter stopped in midair above the flames. As Madeleine, Vernon, and Petunia watched, it rose up in the air and floated through the dining room and back to Madeleine in the kitchen. Quickly, she snatched it out of the air and pocketed it.

"W–well never mind that," Vernon said after a shock–filled minute. One of his eyes was twitching slightly. "At least the post from that freakish school it gone. Might have had a bug in it, you know. Could be tracking us. But they can't track us if it was burned up!" Vernon was now pulling chunks out of his moustache, grinning in a rather creepy way. Dudley had wandered into the kitchen in time to see the envelope floating, and was now cowering behind his mother.

"Be we're still leaving. Just in case." Vernon continued, beginning to pace the room. "Not sure where to yet – most important thing is that we get out before they find us…yes…" he turned to the others in the room. "All of you, go pack. Now. Just some clothes. You have five minutes."

Petunia, Dudley, and Madeleine simply stared at him.

"NOW!" Vernon roared. Everyone jumped and ran from the room immediately. Vernon had never yelled at Petunia and Dudley before – he must either really mean business, or have completely lost his mind.

Soon everyone was rushing through the house, stuffing things in bags and trying to avoid Vernon. Madeleine snagged a duffle bag from the upstairs closet, and had no problem getting all her most prized things in her mother's chest – it must have been magical; it seemed to be bottomless – then wrapped the chest with her striped comforter (you never knew when you would need a blanket, after all), stuffed it all in the bag, and she was ready.

Madeleine had a plan. She wasn't going to wait for the teacher to come – for once, she was going to do things for herself. As soon as she got the chance, she would make her way to London and get all her things herself. After all, her mother's letter told her how to do so.

Ten minutes later they were in the car and speeding towards the motorway. Dudley, to Madeleine's secret joy, had been smacked1 'round the head by his father for holding everyone up while he tried to pack his television and computer.

They drove and drove and drove. No one spoke. Madeleine was curled up against the window, her bag clutched in her arms, reading her mother's letter again. Dudley was sniffling, and Petunia was gnawing on her lip nervously. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a few minutes, mumbling, "Shake 'em off…" when he did so.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day, and Madeleine was endlessly grateful that she had finished her breakfast that morning. By evening, Dudley was sobbing. He had missed television programmes and he was hungry. Madeleine nearly felt bad for him, but then recalled all the times she had gone two or three days with nothing, and couldn't help but smirk a bit.

At last, Uncle Vernon stopped outside a rundown hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Madeleine shared a room with two small beds and mould on the walls. Dudley fell asleep quickly, but Madeleine stayed awake the whole night, sitting on the windowsill and alternating between reading her books and staring down at the cars, wondering about many, many things.

Breakfast next morning was stale cereal and tinned tomatoes on toast. It wasn't bad, considering, and Madeleine ate all she could. When they finished, Vernon shuffled them back into the car and they were off again.

"Wouldn't it, er, just be easier to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly a few hours later. Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, however, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully, late that afternoon. For once, Madeleine thought, Dudley had made a decent observation. This time Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Dudley shivered. Madeleine rubbed her arms.

"It's Monday," He told his mother grumpily. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."

Monday. This reminded Madeleine of something. If it was Monday – and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television – then tomorrow, Tuesday, was her eleventh birthday. Of course, her birthdays were never exactly fun, but still, you weren't eleven every day….

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He carried a long, thin package, and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked him what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" He said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside. Madeleine shivered and wished she had put on her jacket. Uncle Vernon pointed out at a miserable shack on a rock out in the sea. It was freezing in the boat; icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks. Halfway cross, they were soaking wet. The sea water burned their eyes. It seemed like hours until they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms: a living room, containing the empty fireplace, a sofa, and a battered wooden table. The other room was a bedroom with single bed and two side tables.

Uncle Vernon's 'rations' turned out to be a bag of chips and a banana each. He tried to start a fire, but the empty chip bags just smoked and shrivelled up. This didn't dampen Vernon's mood, however. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Madeleine agreed, but it didn't make her feel better at all. Frankly, she was surprised Uncle Vernon hadn't pushed her out of the boat halfway across the sea just to get rid of her.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Madeleine was so glad that she brought her thick striped blanket she could cry.

She curled up under it, happily considering that she was probably warmer than Dudley, and carefully set the alarm on Dudley's wristwatch, which was on his fat wrist, hanging off the sofa. She set it for four am, and grinned at her own cleverness.

She couldn't wait to join the wizarding world.