To Hogwarts from the New World

chapter 1 - To Hogwarts from the New World

"Remember to tie your hair back. It gives a good impression."

She sighed. "Mom, shouldn't this be about how clever the project is, and not about my hair."

Her mother frowned. "I'm just trying to help you, dear. Don't get so defensive. Your father worked very hard to get you this special dispensation from the DMLE. It's not easy, you know, getting those people to allow minors to perform magic."

"Yeah, I know." She wanted to avoid an argument. This was her specialty: avoiding arguments with her parents. It never did any good (to argue with them). Whenever she tried to do something her way it was as if they magically coalesced into a single person, both repeating over and over and OVER again the same arguments.

"You are in an incredibly privileged position. No one your age has ever been allowed to perform magic, even for an educational project such as this." Her mother busied herself pulling a robe from the closet, and laying it out. "The Salem Witches Institute is the most selective academy, every little bit helps."

She noted that her mother had pulled out the gray robes (she had wanted to wear her blue robes)... Never mind. It doesn't matter. It's just a stupid robe. "Mom, I've got good grades and I'm the first student ever to walk in with a full blown project in her portfolio... actually, with any portfolio at all! I think my admission is pretty much in the bag. Can we just relax a little?"

Her mother visibly stiffened in the act of checking every pocket of her briefcase. She turned slowly with an expression of suppressed exasperation. "Your father and I just want the best for you. There's nothing more important than your education..."

Now I've done it. Her mother's carefully rehearsed speech lasted the exact time allotment of 17 minutes (as always).

* * *

She loved her parents dearly. You couldn't ask for more devotion from them. They lived to help her in every detail: how to think up a project, how to plan it, how to write it, how to get permission to implement it, how to present it, whom to present it to, how to use it as a tool to get admission to the most prestigious high school in the country, what to say, how to dress, ... it just went on and on.

She stopped herself before getting angry. She knew they did this... ALL of this... for love. That was part of the problem: you can't yell and rage at someone who is working tirelessly because they love you.

She just wished they would trust her to do stuff her way. She knew she could do it if they just let her. She worked hard, she studied, she felt she knew the stuff. She wanted the chance to show them that she could do it on her own two feet.

Can you? A spiteful voice would always intrude in her mind. They've always been there... pulling you along. Think you could have gotten this far without them?

She frowned. "O.K. maybe I couldn't have gotten to the point I am now," she thought defensively. "I couldn't have gotten a dispensation to do magic by myself, and that means I couldn't have implemented my project." This much was true. "But I could have written out the proposal, which was clearly good enough for my dad to get the dispensation in the first place, so it should have been good enough to get admission... right?"

Yes, but your parents had a lot of input into that proposal. Think you could have done it by yourself?

She rubbed her temples. Actually, she didn't know how far she could have gotten on her own. "Will I ever?" she thought dismally. Her parents' endless efforts to perfect her work had always left her with a diminished feeling of self worth. With all the praise she got in school (and her parents never even hinted that she didn't deserve every bit of it), she never quite knew how much was her own talent and how much ... wasn't.

* * *

Frederic Felding was the director of the Salem Witches Institute. Frederic Felding felt in his heart that the Institute was the best among all magical educational institutions. Frederic Felding bristled whenever he heard comments about the outstanding education you could get in European schools, such as (his lip twitched) Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

However, today Director Felding was in a very good mood. His attention had been focused on a very promising applicant who would show everyone that the best and the brightest came to the Salem Witches Institute. He smiled as he looked over the application and the special note. Tomorrow the applicant would come to the Institute to perform a demonstration of her project. The overview showed a great deal of talent.

He mused that this kind of project might help him get additional funding from the Department of Magical Education. If things went well, he might propose opening a school in Europe... he smiled. Yes, he could see himself as the director of an international school.

"Dumbledore hasn't managed it," he thought smirking. Perhaps it would be a good idea to contact Dumbledore. It didn't hurt to send a friendly letter... just keeping the channels of communication open. Nothing wrong about telling him about the new flying stadium that would be up in four years, or the expansion of the library (as soon as the funds were approved... details that Dumbledore didn't need to know), and about the type of projects his student applicants walked in with.

No need to mention that this was the first student who ever did such a thing. After all, this kind of project would probably catch on. Maybe in a few years the Institute would require projects of all its applicants. He smiled smugly. Frederic Felding was a very ambitious man.

* * *

Director Felding's letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had an unexpected consequence. A few days after she had made her presentation at Salem's (her mother had already owled everyone in the western hemisphere that her admission was guaranteed), she received a letter from Hogwarts.

* * *

Her parents stared at her, mouths gaping, eyes round as dinner plates.

"What do you mean Hogwarts?" her mother whispered.

"The Hogwarts?" her father added.

She smiled, trying to convey that this was a good thing. "Yes, the Hogwarts. They somehow heard about me and they've invited me for an interview. Apparently, they don't normally do this, but when they heard about the project..."

"We'd have to move..." her mother interjected.

"I don't know if I could transfer..." her father frowned, transferring the conversation to her mother.

"No." She was adamant. They stared back at her, as if just now remembering that she was there. "No moving. I would live at Hogwarts. I would eat and sleep and stay at Hogwarts. I would come home for the holidays!" she added cheerily.

They resumed their gaping.

"Look, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity," she pleaded. "This is what we've all been working for, isn't it?"

Her father became somber. "We need to be near you. These are dangerous times. You don't read the news, there is a very dangerous wizard rampaging through England, and all of Europe. He has a group of fanatical followers... you don't think we'd let you go to the heart of all that? Alone?"

"I know all about Lord Voldemort, dad." Her father's frowned deepened when she said the name. "I have read about him and I also know that he's never stepped anywhere near Hogwarts. He's afraid of their headmaster, Dumbledore."

* * *

In the end, after days and days of arguments, they agreed to let her go. She and her mother had taken a portkey to Hogwarts and met Professor Dumbledore, and two other staff members. She had spoken to them and demonstrated her project. They seemed pleased and promised to contact them.

Soon after she received an official admissions letter from Hogwarts. It was settled: she was going.

On September first, her mother and father dropped her off on the Hogwarts Express in London. She could see the anxiety in their faces, and she was sorry for that. But for the first time she would be on her own. For better of for worse, whatever came next... this time it would be her own doing, and hers alone.

That evening, she had entered the most wonderful place she had ever imagined. When she placed the sorting hat on her head, it had taken just a few seconds for it to yell "Ravenclaw!"

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Authhor: Melpomene Erato