she was barely eleven when she wrote her first letter,
"to hogwarts school of  witchcraft and wizardry" she titled it,
sealing the envelope in hopes to make her life better.
yet the western screech owl had no idea what she was doing,
as she tied the letter around its neck and whispered, 

"fly away now, I'll be waiting."

and she waited and waited for that owl to return,
dreaming of the valiant young boy that she always adored.
midnight black hair with such dazzling green eyes,
trapped with a family who's willing to toss him aside.
she had so much in common with the boy she never met,
engrossed in a novel of adventures that she could never forget.
but if only he knew her like the way she knew him,
then perhaps he could save her like the hero he's always been.

when father would beat her and lock her in her room,
she prayed for an elf  to sing her childish, merry tunes.
when mother would starve her until she grew so much thinner,
she imagined the heavenly taste of a hogwarts breakfast and dinner.
she prayed for the weasleys to break down the bars on her window,
and yearned for a letter from the brilliant hermione granger,
wanting to cast a spell to make her feel so much safer,
in a home where danger haunts her at every corner.
yet despite all her misery, no help ever arrived.
and she was laughed and spat at and forced to open her cursed eyes.

she continued to wait for that owl to return,
but no sign had come for this brokenhearted little girl.
countless letters written to a school she could never see,
pages ripped and shredded from the books she used to read.
the poster of the boy she had loved since age eleven,
burned to the ground as she fell into transgression. 
such animosity she felt towards a fictional world,
where magic was embraced, yet impossible for her to learn.
heart stolen by a book that had her whispering in her sleep,
"the boy who lived will surely be the death of me."

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