Behind the Shadows [Book One]

Chapter One:

Chapter One:

"Aunt Marge, your post is here!" I called out, as I picked it up off the floor. I walked into the sitting room where Aunt was having her tea.

"Bring it in here girl!" Her hoarse voice grated on my ears, and I went as fast as possible to get to her before she got impatient.  "Give me those!" Her meaty hands grabbed the envelopes from my hand before going through it all and keeping only what she wanted or needed, before handing the rest to me. "You can have those, girl."

She called me Girl so often that I was sure that any day now, I'd actually begin to believe that Girl was my name.

I walked away, going to the pallet she made for me in the living room and sat on it. The thin scratchy blanket underneath me itched at my bare legs but I paid no attention as I went through the five envelopes in my grasp.

One was for me! Actually, literally FOR me! Not just some scrap mail Aunt Marge didn't want.

My eyes widened as I quickly hid it underneath my thin barely-there pillow and I looked over to Aunt Marge to make sure she hadn't been paying attention. She wasn't. She was more interested in her many bulldogs, which were crowded around her. She had at least twenty of them, as she bred them here in her country home and constantly made me slave for them.

For the dogs!

Feed them, water them, play with them, help them have their babies!

You'd think I was the owner of the dogs and not Aunt Marjorie.

"Well I'm off to bed, remember to take the pups out and play with them, I'll expect breakfast in the morning."

The moment she was up the stairs and into her own room, I took the six week old puppies outside, trying to get them used to human interaction so they could be sold. One puppy was always my favorite, I coddled and spoiled him as much as possible and I hoped that he would go to a good home. He was the runt of the litter, with large brown eyes that always seemed so sad. I loved him more than any dog I'd ever been forced to take care of.

After I brought the pups back in and stuck them in their room -an actual bedroom, just for the dogs- I went back to my meager pallet on the floor in the living room before digging out the mail that was addressed to me. It was in an old looking envelope, yellowed and not the pure white Aunt Marge's mail always came in. It even had where I slept on it!

The Pallet On The Floor

Grinning, I opened it.

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

Frowning, I looked at the second page that had a list of required items to attend this 'Hogwarts' school. I couldn't help but to think that this was fake, besides why would they be 'awaiting my owl'? I didn't even have an owl!

At a soft tapping on one of the windows, I quickly stuffed the letter under my pillow and looked up. Standing just outside, perched on the window seal was just that.

An owl.

Staring in at me with its brown and white heart shaped face tilted to an odd angle. I supposed I was expected to use that one, if it wasn't a wild owl at least.  My light brown hair fell into my face as I reached over to pull the letter back out. Debating what to do about it, about the letter and the owl, was hard to do. should I just go along with it and see what comes of it?

It's not as if I knew anybody who would bother playing a trick on me so...maybe this was real.

'I await your owl' I reread.

I grabbed a pen from Aunt Marge's notary desk and a piece of notebook paper.

What should I write? What to write, what to write... Well even if I wanted to go to the school (which I did) I didn't have the money or transportation. There was no way my Uncle or either Aunt would pay for the tuition or the supplies.

Sighing heavily, I began the letter.

Dear Minerva McGonagall,

I look forward to attending Hogwarts, unfortunately I do not have the supplies necessary to do so. I regretfully inform you that I simply cannot go.

Sorry for wasting your time.

Sincerely, 

Amaryllis Potter.

I used all the manners and nice words my family had practically beaten into me in order to come across as a rather smart eleven year old instead of the actual stupid child I was. After rereading the short, to-the-point letter I'd written, I was actually proud of it.

Now to figure out how to get the owl to take it back...