The Dream Darkness pressed against the edges of consciousness as three voices echoed in the void. "It's time," declared a deep, resonant voice. "Is she ready?" A woman's voice, touched with concern. "No, but she will be. Remember why we chose her," came a third voice, wise and measured. "Yes, we must have faith. I believe this time will be different—we won't face disappointment again." "I do have faith. But knowing who she is, what dangers await..." The caring voice trailed into a heavy sigh. "She won't be alone," the wise voice assured. Silence fell over the darkened chamber. Moonlight filtered through unseen windows, illuminating a figure seated cross-legged in the center—a girl, motionless in meditation, her clothes stained crimson. Her face bore a striking resemblance to someone familiar... Eleven-year-old Elena Ashford jolted awake, her heart hammering against her ribs. Sweat beaded her forehead as her wide sapphire eyes darted around the familiar confines of her bedroom. The remnants of the strange dream clung to her consciousness like spider webs. "Just a nightmare," she whispered, switching on her bedside lamp. The culprit lay beside her pillow—a dog-eared copy of Shadows at Midnight. She rolled her eyes, placing the gothic novel on her nightstand. "That's what I get for reading horror before bed." As she settled back into her covers, the clock's glowing digits caught her attention: 12:00 AM. Her door creaked open, and she tensed before a familiar voice called out. "You awake, sweetheart?" "Dad! You nearly gave me a heart attack," Elena gasped. Marcus Ashford rushed to her bedside, his weathered face creased with concern. "Sorry, little bird. I came to give you something I do every year." Elena's expression shifted from alarm to curiosity. "Give me what?" "Birthday wishes, of course." His smile illuminated the room as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. "Happy birthday, my extraordinary girl." "It's my birthday," she breathed, wondering, replacing anxiety. "Eleven years old today. I love you more than all the stars in the sky." "I love you too, Dad." She melted into his arms, feeling safer than she had all week. "Tomorrow we could invite some friends over for dinner. What do you say?" Elena's smile faltered. "Dad, you know I don't have friends anymore. Everyone thinks I'm..." She couldn't finish the sentence. "Hey." Marcus pulled back, meeting her eyes with fierce intensity. "Never call yourself that word. You're not strange—you're remarkable. Those other children are simply too limited to recognize your gifts. If they can't see how incredible you are, they don't deserve your friendship or the chocolate cake I'm planning to bake." Elena's spirits lifted at his unwavering faith in her. "Don't worry, I'll help you eat every last crumb." "Save me a slice," he chuckled, tucking her back under the covers. "Now get some sleep. Sweet dreams." After he left, Elena drifted back into peaceful slumber, unaware that this birthday would change everything. The Letter Morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows as Elena bounded downstairs, her dark hair still tousled from sleep. "Good morning, Dad," she chirped, settling into her usual chair. "Good morning, birthday girl," Marcus beamed, dramatically revealing a plate of golden French toast. "Your favorite." As Elena savored her breakfast, helping her father prepare cake batter, the doorbell chimed. "Could you get that, Elena? My hands are rather occupied." Elena skipped to the front door, pulling it open to reveal an unexpected sight: a tall, stern-looking woman in emerald robes, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. Who dresses like that? Elena wondered, though she kept her thoughts to herself. "Good morning. You must be Miss Elena Ashford," the woman said crisply. "Um, yes," Elena managed. "Excellent. I am Professor McGonagall. Might I speak with your parents regarding your education?" "Dad!" Elena called, stepping aside as her father appeared, flour dusting his apron. "How may I help you?" Marcus asked, clearly puzzled by their visitor's unusual attire. "Mr. Ashford, I teach at a rather special institution, and your daughter has been selected for enrollment. Perhaps we could discuss this privately?" Marcus ushered Professor McGonagall into the sitting room, Elena trailing behind with mounting apprehension. What if this is a school for troubled children? "Miss Ashford," Professor McGonagall said, producing a thick, yellowed envelope. "This belongs to you." Elena accepted the letter with trembling fingers. Her name was inscribed in emerald ink: Miss E. Ashford, followed by their complete address. She turned it over to reveal a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms—a lion, eagle, badger, and serpent surrounding a large H. Something stirred deep within her chest as she touched the seal, a sense of belonging she'd never experienced. "Please, read it aloud," Professor McGonagall encouraged. Elena broke the seal and unfolded the parchment: 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 Ashford, 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. The term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Silence stretched between them like a held breath. Elena stared at Professor McGonagall with a mixture of disbelief and dawning wonder. Marcus looked between the two, clearly struggling to process what he'd just heard. "Mr. Ashford," Professor McGonagall said gently, "I'm here to inform you that your daughter is a witch, and she's been accepted to attend Britain's premier school of magic." Elena felt the world tilt on its axis. Everything that had ever made her different—the strange incidents, the way objects sometimes moved without explanation, the dreams that felt more real than waking life—suddenly made perfect sense. For the first time in years, Elena smiled with genuine happiness. She wasn't broken or strange. She was magical. And this birthday had just become the best day of her entire life.