New Destiny

It was a quiet, humid day in the small, one road town called Cunningham. No one was in sight except for a small girl, sitting on the grass in front of her home, a large, brown two-story house.

Like the house, the girls was unusual looking, but not in a bad way. She had black, tidy hair that fell casually on her shoulder, a small, but growing frame, and pink, round cheeks that made her look younger than her age, which was 11. She also had beautiful eyes that were a dark grey, but they had a sad, wistful look about them, as if she had a tragic memory that she couldn't get rid of.

But her most striking feature was her voice. A high, musical tone, that soared when she sang any song. Here favorite was "My Little Girl" by Tim McGraw, because it reminded her of the father she never had.

"Your beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this whole world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl."

But even then, when she was singing her heart out, her eyes were clouded over, perhaps wondering, if somewhere, her daddy would sing with her, if he were here. She could remember a deep, bark like laugh, but other than that, she had no other memories of him.

Her name is Ella Black.

"Sweetheart! Lunch!"

Ella climbed to her feet eagerly. This was the only time in the day that she could spend time and talk with her mother, because she worked most of the day. Ella never really missed her when she was at school, but during this time of year, in the summer, when everyone left to enjoy the holidays, the only person she could actually talk to was Jordan, the mail girl. Everyday, without fail, Jordan would be there with the mail and a smile.

Not that everyone was gone, of course. Mrs. Shelby, who was expecting a baby girl in August, had to say home with her husband instead of going to London, as they usually do, and Mr. Zimmerman was having problems with his back again, so he stayed home instead of visiting his parents in Arizona.

A flash of white caught her eye. Turning, she saw Jordan on her bike, with her mailbag. "Hang on, mum! The mail's here!" She walked down to the sidewalk, where Jordan was panting. " 'Ello, miss!" she said, grinning. "Or, should I say, Mrs. Black. When did you get married?" "What?" asked Ella, baffled. "My name is Prentice. Always has been." "Well, it says," said Jordan, pulling out a yellowish envelope with a flourish,

"To Miss Ella Destiny Prentice Black, brown house down the street, Cunningham, London. I need to get going, so..." She dumped a small pile of mail into Ella's arms. Swinging a leg over her bike, Jordan started down the only, black road that ran through the town. "What if it's not for me?" Ella yelled after her. Jordan just waved cheerfully.

Shaking her head, Ella plunked down on the grass. She examined the letter carefully. It didn't have a return address, postmark, or even a stamp. Flipping the letter over, she was startled to see a genuine seal holding the letter closed. On it was a crest with a badger, an eagle, a lion, and a snake. She broke it off with fumbling fingers. She read:

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 Prentice Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Ella stared, speechless. Her confusion turned quickly into anger. Grabbing the mail with one hand, she stomped up to the front door, yanked it open, and stamped to the kitchen, where her mother sat. Her smile disappeared at the look on Ella's face. "You never told me?" Ella yelled, fighting back tears. "I'm a witch, but you never, not once in my life, told me? And you knew, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?" Her mother froze, her face an ashy-white. "Ella," she choked out, "Ella, let me explain..." Ella threw the remainder of the mail on the table. "I'm going to my room," she snarled. She turned on her heel and broke into a run, across the living room, up the stairs, and into her room. She slammed the door shut behind her and stood there, thinking about how all her life, as tears ran down her face, the person she called mother lied to her.