𝐂𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜 & 𝐈

prologue

Sunday, August 28th, 1994

My right hand burned as I scribbled the last few words down on the parchment paper that had come in the mail this morning. It was from the Headmaster of Hogwarts, some pompous character named Dumbledore who thought it fit to write all 12 of his titles whenever he got the chance. The letter said:  

Miss Lucy Monroe,

Ordinarily, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry does not accept any new students over the age of eleven, but due to your spectacular records and enthralling attributes, the faculty and I have agreed to make an exception. Whilst you have already been accepted, I ask that you answer these few short questions (they were not short.), the reason for them being for the faculty and I to better understand your individuality. 

Sincerely, 

Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed of Wizards (see what I mean???)

The "short questions" consisted of what I assume are typical university application questions, plus a few others (Your favourite quidditch team: ) which seemed a bit unnecessary, but I filled out nonetheless (Hollyhead Harpies of course.) 

Glancing over my finished work, I folded up the parchment and inserted it back into the same red-stamped envelope it came in. My owl, George, seemed to sense his imminent trip across the ocean, because as soon as I stood up, he flew off of his perch and retreated under my bed. But, being the simple creature he is, it only took a few treats to get him set and out the window towards Scotland.

I glanced at the clock, and to savor my last 10 minutes at home, I flopped on my very comfortable bed for the last time before I was undoubtedly doomed to the stale mattresses of Hogwarts.

Without any distractions, my mind wandered across all the things in my life that were about to change (including my dreadful sleeping situation). I definitely wasn't sad about leaving my bland life at Ilvermorny to go to Scotland for two years, and I definitely wasn't nervous about it or anything... just, maybe, a bit cautious. Or rather, prepared. Yes. Prepared. Because I couldn't go into school expecting to immediately make friends or be good at everything. I mean, that was just entirely unlikely. I had to be aware of the possibility that things might turn out terribly and I'd get kicked out in the first week. Now that, is not entirely unlikely. One must not be unprepared when going into new situations. Especially when said situations are on the other side of the ocean, completely on your own, and nowhere near any of your family!

I was not one to be unprepared.