Mudblood

Chapter One

I never really believed in magic. Sure, it was fun to watch those professional magicians do their tricks, but I could always figure out the secret behind doing them- the secret trapdoor, the hidden mirror. But that was before the letters started coming.
At first, I ignored them- or at least I tried to. But they simply came more often and in larger quantities. Finally, I told my parents about it one morning. Father laughed, saying "Letters delivered by owls? Nonsense, my dear! Animals haven't been used for correspondence in decades!" Then, he would go to work and forget all about it. Not that I blame him- his being a Doctor and with the epidemic, he has his hands full.
When I told Mother about the letters, though, I got an entirely different response. She looked down at her lap and squeezed her eyes shut as if she were praying. I could've sworn I heard her mutter something like Albert dumb-old something or another. But she only looked up and told me I must've been dreaming.
The letters didn't stop. In fact, they only got worse. Every night, I would hear a pecking noise at my window and an owl was there with a letter in its beak. Ignoring it became harder and harder. One night, I couldn't take it anymore. I shoved open my window and the owl flew in, landing on my bed. It looked up at me as if to say "Finally, you twit!" He set the letter down on my bed and then flew back out. I picked the letter up with trembling hands and read the cover of the envelope. It was addressed to me, but I couldn't bring myself to open it, so I placed it under my pillow, closed the window, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up and when I opened my eyes, I thought I must be dreaming. The floor of my bedroom was covered in letters five feet tall. I forced myself to take a deep breath and not overreact, but to wade through the sea of letters and open my door. Out of breath, I stumbled out into the hallway, still staring in disbelief at all of the letters. I grabbed the one closest to me and rushed into the kitchen where Mother was making toast for breakfast. Father was sitting at the table, reading the morning newspaper with a cup of coffee. I hid the letter behind my back as he glanced at me over the rim of the paper.
"You should get dressed, Alyssa," he scolded me.
I nodded, acknowledging him.
"I know," I replied. "But... do you remember the letters I told you about?"
Mother had her back to me, but I could smell the toast burning, so I knew her attention wasn't focused on the bread. Father nodded slowly.
"I thought we discussed that. Did you dream of them again?" He asked.
"I wish it had been a dream. Well, this speaks for itself." 
I took the letter out from behind my back and handed it to him. 
"My room is filled with them." 
Father's frown deepened.
"Charlcy," he called to my mother. 
She came over and examined the letter. They exchanged a glance that held a silent conversation and they nodded simultaneously.
"Alyssa, go get dressed," Mother ordered. 
I nodded and left the room. Of course, I didn't get dressed. Instead, I eavesdropped. I could hear the entire conversation.
"Dan, I warned you," Mother began.
Father interrupted her.
"I know, Charlcy, I know. But you said there was almost no chance..."
"But there was a chance!" Mother snapped. 
I could hear Father sigh.
"I know. I should've argued with him. I should've told him that we didn't want our daughter to have that life," Father muttered desperately.
"No, Dan, it's not your fault," Mother reassured him. "No matter what we might have done, there's no way we could have prevented this. She'll just have to go." 
My eyes widened at the last sentence. Were they going to send me away? Kill me? I ran to my room in desperation and waded through the letters to my closet and dressed. By the time I returned to the kitchen, Father was reading the paper while sipping his coffee and Mother was making more toast.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well what?" Father replied without looking up from his paper.
"The letter," I clarified. 
Mother turned to look at me.
"Haven't you thought to open one, Alyssa?" She asked. 
I blinked in surprise. In fact, I had not thought to. Now I was afraid of what it might say. I picked up the letter from the table and slit it open. With trembling fingers, I slid the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it. If I had been expecting anything, what the letter said was not it. It looked like an acceptance letter. I read it quietly to myself.
"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 Ms. Clark,
                        We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress"
Sure enough, there was another letter in the envelope that contained a list of a number of absurd supplies. I slowly looked up from the envelope. Today was 31 July. A lump formed in my throat. Mother handed me a plate of toast.
"So, Alyssa, do you want to go?"