Elizabeth Potter

chap. 2

The sun blinded me, as I woke up after another night of horrifying nightmares. I know many children have nightmares based on theoretical fears, but mine are far too real. On my third Halloween, my parents and baby brother were murdered. The details I know are only vague wisps of memory, because my Aunt Mary likes to avoid talking about it.
After my parents died, I was given to a close friend of theirs from school, Mary Ann Carmichael. We are all each other has. She has been everything I could want in a mom, even though she often says she feel wholly unprepared for the "entire ordeal."
We moved to America as soon as we could. Aunt Mary thought we needed a fresh start. I love it here, but it has never become my "home." I go to an Washington Elementary School. The teachers are fantastic, and I learn so much, but the other kids are cruel. No one likes the kid who falls asleep and wakes up screaming the in the middle of class. It doesn't help that strange things happen around me.
Sadly, I have to go to said school today.

"Good morning, Auntie!" I greeted as I walked into our tiny kitchen.

"Something came in the mail for you today!" she exclaimed. Smiling, she handed me the letter, while motioning excitedly for me to open it.

It was a in a crisp, beige envelope with a wax seal. I carefully opened it, trying not to ruin the envelope, and pulled out the letter. It read:

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. 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

There was another page, with a list of strangely names items that I had never heard of.

After I finished the letter, I turned my gaze to my aunt. She looked like a little child who had just asked her parent for a pet. I started laughing hysterically. "Thats a funny joke you have there Aunt Marry," I chortled.

She frowned at me and argued, " This is most certainly not a joke, young lady. In fact, I have already purchased the plane tickets to London. We leave tomorrow."
"Okay, you can stop now. You have had your fun. Besides, I have school tomorrow," I said. I was beginning to become annoyed.
"Lizzy, think about your dreams and all the strange occurrences. Those are not coincidences or strange luck, they are cases of accidental magic. I should have told you earlier, I'm sorry. But it is indisputably the truth. You are a witch!" Auntie ranted.

"Well, prove it," I said. I was going to crack her.

"I can't, because I'm no longer able to practice magic," she said like it was obvious.

"If you have no way of proving it, how am I meant to believe you?" I countered.

"Well, I did spend two thousand dollars on plane tickets to London." She held up a pair of first class tickets to Heathrow.

"Are you mad? You are taking this a little too far," I said. I'm sure my face showed my shock, because she began laughing.

"See now you have to believe me," she said inbetween cackles.

"You are kind of just making me believe the mad thing," I said rolling my eyes at her strangeness.

"Oh shush, we are going to England, and I shall prove to you that I am telling the truth," she said, as she walked out of the room , "Oh, and pack your things I most certainly do not want to have you frantically packing tomorrow."

"Fine, but I still don't believe you," I shouted.

I ran upstairs to my room and immediatley started packing. At least I got a free trip to England. I barely remembered it, but my family lived there, and Aunt Mary grew up there. I could hear her singing happily. I'm sure she was glad to be going back home. I looked around my room, hoping that I would never be coming back. It is not that I disliked America. It's just, I didn't think I could find the answers I need here. I thought about what aunt Mary said about my dreams. Were they completely accurate? I always assumed that they were altered by fear, because I was so young when my family died. The only thing I knew about the green light is that if it was real, it definitely was horrible. I stopped when I realized what I was doing. I was believing my crazy aunt about something utterly ridiculous.

I packed for several hours and then settled down to read through the letter again. It had to be a joke, didn't it?

Chapter two is edited. So far, I've only
made minor changes. There are going to be pretty big changes in the future. I hope you like it. I'm sorry if the tenses get inconsistent, it's hard to rewrite this and still retain any of my old style. I'm actually starting to enjoy this again.