Written by: Alp Glide
"Magic?" Emma stammered.
"Yes, magic." Flitwick repeated plainly.
"Magic..." Emma whispered to herself, looking down at her hands (barely registering the fact that she's still standing up). She never would've thought anything like this was possible. Though she never would really believe it, there certainly was some evidence involving her magic, like the time when she accidentally sent a snake to attack a bully at school. She never meant any of it, of course - the bully didn't get injured, and the snake disappeared before other students and teachers could even glance at it.
Somehow, she felt connected to the snake. When she's feeling particularly alone, she'd find the snake slithering towards her, talking to her - it was frustrating to not know what the snake was talking about - it kept hissing softly, and Emma has tried to unravel the magic language inside. Every single time, she failed. And it was the one thing she failed at for a long time. Even now, she can't figure out what the snake had whispered to her those mysterious two years ago.
There was also a time when she was stuck on making a sketch of a tree in a park, next to a lake. She was crying, it was the only time she'd ever failed at sketching something. Emma had looked up - and there was the large piece of paper, painting itself with amazing colors of nature. It's the exact thing she wanted to sketch with a pencil (the painting would be black and white), but the color had made it better. That was the happiest day she had ever-
"So..." Flitwick interrupted, "Am I going to have to stare at your amazed face about magic, or can we get started on getting your school supplies?" Flitwick had never pushed any students into doing something, nor had he ever rudely interrupted, but it had been seven long minutes ever since Emma last spoke. They simply couldn't waste any more time; he had to get to all of the other Muggleborn students as well.
"Oh, yes...um, yeah, I think I'm ready." Emma fiddled with her shirt, embarrassed. Flitwick took a long scroll from his pocket and started to explain.
"As I said before, Ms Belin, you have been accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A school of magic." he stopped for a moment and glanced at Emma, who was staring at the back of the parchment intensely. "I'm sure your artwork will come in handy sometimes, especially because there's an elective called 'Magical Arts' that you could take in your later years; it's something you could look forward to."
"How many electives are there?" Emma asked; she took more interest in Flitwick's blabbedy-blab when he mentioned her talent of art. Flitwick seemed to have most of this memorized by heart. "Let's see...first years have no electives, but they have seven compulsory core subjects: There's Charms, Astronomy, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"First years? How many years are there?"
"Seven."
"Are there any more subjects in advanced years?"
"We'll cross the bridge when we get to it," Flitwick answered grudgingly; they were behind schedule by a large chunk of time. "Now, ready to go to Diagon Alley?"
"Diagonally?" Emma asked. "What? Isn't a diagonal line a line that's slanted, tilted at a 45-degree angle with -"
"Oh, Merlin's beard, Emma!" Flitwick snapped, almost ripping the piece of parchment in his tiny hands. "Are we going or not? Oh, forget it! I'll just take you to the place. I have many other Muggleborns to visit, you know, I've never met a person like you before."
Emma stared at Professor Flitwick. Even he was getting impatient. She was always dissatisfied when she didn't understand everything, and would keep asking questions until she understood everything. Her teachers at school would drop her grades for it, and Flitwick even thought that she was different.
"Alright." she answered. "Go ahead. Show me the place."
Flitwick seemed surprised by the sudden controlled emotional change in Emma. Seems like a suspicious Slytherin trait...
"Let me explain some things again," Flitwick cleared his throat. "Emma Belin, you are on the school list of Muggleborns. Muggleborns are witches and wizards who have no trace of magical heritage. In other words, they are people who have magic in their blood, but their parents have no trace of magic at all. They are just Muggles; folks who have non-magic blood. It's quite random, and even us Wizards are still mystified by it. Now, I'm here to take you to Diagon Alley..." he made sure to pronounce Diagon Alley very clearly to make sure Emma wouldn't question him again, "To buy your school supplies. Here is your letter."
Emma unconsciously held out her hands, and new, crisp parchment found themselves in the grasp of a talented girl. Her heart felt light. This must be a dream, it must, but magic just explained everything. Every single thing she's done wrong, magic was the evidence. It must be a dream, but it can't...
It felt too real. WAY too real.
Her dream had come true. She always knew she was different, she knew all this time...but what if this was a prank? What if there was a stranger; a murderer inside that masked face of kindness?
"Be brave like my mother, Professor..."
She closed her eyes and smiled. Harry Potter. Emma had had many dreams of a mysterious person named Harry Potter. It was as if she'd known him all this time, he's always been there for her since she was seven. Harry would never be a real person. He would just be a nice, heroic person in her dreams, with a tragic past of Lily and James Potter. It never occurred to her to wonder why she had those dreams, until now. It was magic. Magic controlled her dreams, perhaps they were trying to send her a message.
"Be brave like my mother..."
She had to be brave, or her chance of being different would be flattened. Opening her eyes, Emma looked at the letter. In green, dark, handwritten ink, was her address:
Ms E. Belin
The Bed in The Artistic Bedroom, Second Floor
5. Crystal Avenue
Tiny Hofer
Polfey
Hands shaking for the first time, Emma delicately opened the letter and pulled out more pieces of parchment - isn't there any paper in the Wizarding World? - that bore instructions, things to buy, how to get to Diagon Alley...and a train ticket. "Thank you," she whispered. It was a foolish thing to say thank you to a little goblin-like thing, a foolish thing to thank something that would've come naturally no matter what, but she had to say it.
"Ready?" Flitwick asked. Emma nodded in determination. "You know," Flitwick said indifferently, "You're very brave to accept this at first glance. Some other Muggleborns would fight, others wouldn't believe me, even others would think I'm a mad murderer. You've got a lion heart...you wouldn't be a bad Gryffindor either."
"What's Gryff-"
"Oh, I'll tell you everything once we get to DIAGON ALLEY!" Flitwick agitated, threw his arms up in the air. It was a little funny looking, and Emma had to hold in a laugh so she wouldn't be too rude.
"How are we getting there?"
"We walk, of course!" he said proudly. "Your house is conveniently right around the corner of this secret entrance! Perhaps it's very lucky you live in London!" He hopped off of the bed, leaving a little print in the blue blankets (stowing the long piece of parchment full of Muggleborn names in his pocket), and walked to the door. "After you!" he said joyfully.
Emma skipped the way to the so-called Leaky Cauldron.
"So..." Emma said slowly. She didn't want to suddenly crash questions onto a little two-foot tall goblin thing, but she couldn't help herself. "What's Gryffindor? What do those colors and that eagle on your robes represent? And don't you think other peop- Muggles - would see something out of place if something magical was next to the street?"
"That..." Flitwick wheezed. "Is a HUGE amount of questions for a little eleven-year-old. Could you be any more curious with any more questions?"
Clearly, he was annoyed.
"Umm," Emma said, "Actually, I'm holding a lot of my curiosities back, I don't think I'm asking too many -"
"MERLIN'S PANTS, MS BELIN!" Flitwick threw his arms in the air again. "I've never met someone like you, certainly, I haven't! You're no Hufflepuff! I don't know the boundary of your loyalties yet, but HOLY -"
"Shush, people are going to notice." Emma whispered.
"Right."
It was an awkwardly silent and, fortunately, short walk the rest of the way.
They arrived a few minutes later at a dark blue shop with golden letters at the top of the doorway claiming it was the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles never seem to glance at it at all; they looked from one shop to the next, skipping the little 'Leaky Cauldron'.
"Why don't any other people notice this?" Emma asked.
"Only magical wizards and witches can see it," Flitwick replied simply. "They would see it as an abandoned, dark alley."
Emma took a better look at the place. She'd never seen a shop to ridiculously skinny before, but a look through the glass told her the shop was wider on the inside. How was this possible?
"Ah, Magic!" Flitwick sighed. "It's one of the best talents you could have! Off you go, my dear!"
Emma seemed hesitant. "Sorry for the uphold back in my house, but do you have any more time to go with me?"
"Yes, of course! Every Muggleborn is always afraid of seeing what's behind the wall..."
"A wall?"
"Yup! I'll show you!"
And with that, Flitwick bounded into the shop, Emma walking slowly behind.
A/N: Please keep reading! It should get to school soon.
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