01. The Hogwarts Letter
The Dursleys were not the kind of family to decline invitations to a classy party, especially if it meant potential clients for Vernon's business.
That's why on that night, in the luxurious ambiance of the dining room, the family gathered in haute couture outfits that reflected Vernon's effort to impress. The soft light of the chandeliers highlighted the elegant furniture of the family as they welcomed dozens of guests, while the aroma of a refined meal lingered in the air.
Vernon Dursley, in his impeccable suit, attempted to win over clients with nervous laughter, exaggerated gestures, and rehearsed questionable jokes. His wife Petunia, in an obvious attempt to dazzle the guests, boasted loudly and unceremoniously about Dudley's future at Smeltings, as if the choice of educational institution were worthy of a trophy.
Meanwhile, Shaia Potter, the displaced niece, was impeccably dressed, standing out among the attendees. Her delicate dress accentuated her unique beauty, and her refined manners challenged the heavy atmosphere of the dinner. As the adults conversed about business and achievements, discreet whispers circulated through the room. Comments about Shaia's lovely appearance and exemplary upbringing filled the corners, creating an aura of admiration that spread among the guests.
The other girls, Shaia's age, present at the event, exchanged looks laden with envy. Their whispers, though discreet, echoed with a subtle mix of fascination and resentment. While Shaia inadvertently captured the attention of the elders, she became the involuntary target of jealous glances and malicious whispers, turning the atmosphere of the dinner into a stage of subtle rivalries and discontent.
Her aura was almost magical, so to speak. Her red hair cascaded down her back, and for a girl of almost eleven years old, she possessed extraordinary grace and confidence. Despite this, the girl longed to be anywhere else.
She fondly remembered the days she spent with Mrs. Figg, despite the terrible food and dozen cats that filled the place, away from the Dursleys' social events. That was until she turned five, when her aunt and uncle realized how captivating it would be to have a lovely girl with them, drawing the attention of eager women to pinch her cheeks and husbands to insist their children dance with her. The redhead detested all those things.
Now, as she grew older, the pressure seemed to become even more oppressive, with ballet and sewing classes filling her days and Petunia and Vernon finally realizing that Shaia received much more attention than their beloved Dudley, who could not be described any better than a pig in a tie.
Vernon's discomfort, fueled by the misconception that Shaia was trying to distract the adults, added a layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere that night.
The girl's laughter resonated melodiously when one of the ladies told her a joke - very unfunny, by the way - and anyone would think her response was genuine.
"Oh, Petunia, your niece is so charming! It seems she has the ability to enchant the guests!"
Petunia feigned indifference to the comment, a low laugh and a polite bow, but Shaia could feel the tension in her aunt's eyes. The Dursleys had an aversion to anything that deviated from the "normal", even drawings or dreams were categorized as aberrations in their eyes.
As she apologized to the lady in front of her, Mrs. Dursley pulled Shaia to a corner, her aunt's eyes sparking with indignation towards the girl. Shaia did her best to smile as they crossed the room, but the pain in her wrist and the anger in her chest were hard to hide. The empty corner by the fireplace contrasted with the luxurious atmosphere of the dining room, but the noise of the guests, combined with the crackling of the flames, was exactly what Petunia needed to show her true nature.
"Do you think you can behave like this?" Petunia whispered, trying to maintain composure. "I won't tolerate your insolence, showing off to others as if you were someone important."
Shaia, though pleased with her aunt's reaction, clenched her fists in anger.
"I was just trying to help, Petunia! You know these events are a..." The girl blinked, suddenly aware of the increased heat in the room.
"What is this?!" Petunia exclaimed, hastily indicating the back of her dress. Shaia turned, realizing too late that Petunia's dress was on fire.
The moment of tension was broken by Petunia's screams, trying to extinguish the flames with her fan and calling for help. Shaia, surprised, sought a quick solution, while the commotion attracted everyone's attention, turning the discussion into an unexpected chaos.
"You should learn to appreciate a good laugh once in a while!" Shaia retorted, maintaining a haughty posture despite the turmoil.
Overcoming the misunderstanding, Shaia acted quickly, grabbing a nearby plant pot and throwing it over the burning garment. The dress, now soaked and dirty, finally went out.
Petunia, drenched and visibly shaken, stared at Shaia with a mixture of shock and anger. The girl knew she would face a reprimand when they got home, but at that moment, Mrs. Dursley contented herself with running towards her husband, Vernon, while some guests smiled at Shaia's unexpected courage.
The event would never be forgotten by the Dursleys, but not for the reasons they initially expected.
[...]
The morning after Uncle Vernon's disastrous business dinner, Shaia dragged herself to the breakfast table with slow steps, fervently wishing she didn't have to join the Dursleys. However, she was aware that if she didn't leave the cupboard under the stairs, her meals for the day would be compromised.
She prepared her coffee, ignoring her uncle's annoying complaints. To their despair, they believed that the previous night was nothing more than part of some evil plan of Potter's to ruin Uncle's successful career and cousin's bright future. So, she had many things to ignore that morning.
She watched Dudley smile cheerfully as the reprimands were thrown his way, wondering if it would be worth it to punch that pig-like nose. She knew she would be punished anyway.
If only whatever she had done the day before had hurt him - not that she thought she had mysteriously set Petunia's clothes on fire, but the Dursleys were not interested in being rational - she wouldn't have to face that smug smile now.
The meal was quick, as Shaia was not interested in hearing Petunia complain about the neighbors who had planted hybrid tea roses instead of the traditional red ones.
The click of the letterbox and the sound of mail falling onto the doormat interrupted the monotony. While Dudley proudly displayed his Smeltings cane to his parents, the couple seemed on the verge of tears, flooded with excessive pride for their precious son, even though he had almost hit himself in the eye with the object.
"I'll get it," grumbled Shaia, relieved to have an excuse to escape.
The girl walked through the hallway, the cold floor tickling her bare feet, and leaned down to examine the letters scattered on the rug. Curiosity shone in her eyes when she spotted a particular letter, a yellowed envelope with a peculiar seal. It wasn't an ordinary letter; it was addressed to her.
"Miss S. Potter, Cupboard under the Stairs, Privet Drive, Number 4, Little Whinging, Surrey."
Her eyes widened at the elegant cursive writing, and she glanced around the room until she spotted a pair of eyes watching her from the window. Perched there was an owl, watching her with an unusual wisdom, almost as if it knew who she was.
With the letter in hand, Shaia felt a flutter in her stomach and a tingling of excitement, as she had never received a letter before. Who would write to an orphan with no friends?
"Hurry up, girl!" Vernon urged her, and the girl quickly tucked the correspondence into her nightgown.
She left the Dursleys' letters on the kitchen table, murmuring something about needing to return to her cupboard, and quickly made her way to the room, away from the curious glances of the family.
With a slight tremor, she broke the seal and read:
"HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are enclosing a list of the necessary books and equipment. The school year begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress"
Shaia's heart raced, and she knew her life was about to change in a way she never imagined. The butterflies in her stomach were now a mix of anticipation and joy, and the tingling had turned into anxiety.
Was this some kind of joke? Surely not, the Dursleys were not clever or funny enough to pull off something like that. So she read it again and furrowed her brow.
"Owl...?" she repeated, remembering the bird that had been watching her through the glass. "Of course!"
Grabbing her worn-out school bag, Shaia pulled out her notebook, hoping those sheets would suffice, and began to write:
"Dear Headmaster Dumbledore..."
[...]
The days dragged slowly since Shaia sent the owl with her response, and every morning, the girl ran to fetch the mail in the hopes of finding a new letter. A vain hope, apparently.
Potter was not sure what kind of cruel joke this was, but surely someone had played with her feelings. And although the Dursleys noticed her despondency, they chose not to question her, merely smiling as they informed her that she had been accepted into a conservatory in London, a term that sounded more like "boarding school" to the redhead. The Dursleys' euphoria made sense; after all, they would be rid of her without spending a penny, as the girl had earned a scholarship.
Faced with this, Shaia returned to her usual refuge when the Dursleys became unbearable: she left the house. It wasn't as if Little Whinging could be properly called dangerous.
There, in the streets, she found more solace and acceptance than in her supposed "home". She contributed to the neighbors' gardens, searched for lost pets in the neighborhood, watched over younger children, and sometimes received sweets or money in return.
On the night of July 30th, the girl woke abruptly, grumbling as she narrowly avoided colliding with the cupboard door, still tired from the exhausting day. She blinked, feeling something stirring inside her, the sudden realization that something extraordinary was about to happen filling her chest.
Opening the cupboard door, the girl shivered, feeling the icy wind pierce through her thin nightgown.
"July 31st," she remembered, "they expected a response by July 31st, my birthday."
A new spark of hope arose as she made her way to the hallway, eagerly watching the window. Maybe... maybe she hadn't received a response because the deadline hadn't expired yet?
If so, God, it would be the perfect birthday present.
It was a somewhat irrational whim to stay there, waiting, knowing that the response would probably only come with dawn, along with the morning mail. However, Shaia settled into the generous - and extremely dull - upholstery of the Dursleys, grimacing at the marks left by Dudley's bottom on the couch, and allowed a dreamy smile to grace her lips as she watched the clock. As the hands pointed to 11:59, the girl stood up, recalling Dudley's extravagant birthdays, when wishes were made and candles blown out. Shaia, who was unfamiliar with the feeling of having parties, cakes, and candles on her almost-eleven years, believed that this year was worthy of a wish.
"10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5..." she counted, her eyes closed as the last number escaped her lips. "1... I wish..."
With a bang, the Dursley house shook, loud and insistent knocks echoing through the residence, announcing that someone was at the door, and surely it wasn't an owl.