Chapter 1: The New Student

                Ororo paused, and the small cloud over the ivy obediently stopped raining as her attention was diverted elsewhere. Below her, on the drive below her attic window, a sleek black limousine had pulled up in front of the doors to the mansion.

                A smartly dressed, stiffly starched chauffeur stepped out of the front of the limo, sprang around to the side, and pulled open the door with a snappy salute. A man got out. He was tall, dark-haired, and Ororo would have called him handsome if he wasn't dressed with such ostentatious gaudiness. There was more money in his clothing than taste. She shook her head.

                The woman now climbing out of the limo was dressed with the same lack of taste. Her suit was an eye-blinding fluorescent pink, and she was wrapped in a white fur coat. A fur! Ororo didn't like fur, as a rule; she disliked the idea of killing animals for fur. And fur now, in July, was in excessively bad taste. She shook her head. What were these people doing here?

                The woman turned back to the car, bent over, and said something to someone inside the car. She paused, and then said something else, this time accompanying it with some excitable gestures that clearly meant, 'get out here'. Then she turned to the man and said something. He bent over and spoke sharply to whoever was inside the car, and finally the person inside got out slowly.

                Ororo blinked. A teenaged girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, wearing a severely-cut black tailored suit and heels stepped out of the back of the car. Ah, that explained the presence of the couple, then. The girl was obviously here as a new student. Ororo stifled her curiosity and returned to watering her plants. She would meet the parents and the student later.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Alexandra Sanderson stepped out of her parents' limo and took a quick look at the building, feigning carelessness. The heavy gates at the front of the mansion's grounds had made her uneasy. Why did they need such heavy gates at a school? She'd slouched back in the seat of the car, scowling and ignoring her mother's command to get out of the car until her father backed her mother up with the demand, "Young lady, get out of the car this minute or we're turning around and going home!"

                "Fine!" she snapped back at him. "I just want to go home anyway!" But she climbed reluctantly out of the car, dragging her small overnight case with her.

                The mansion's impressive façade rose before her. She drew a breath at the beauty of the old place. The mansion exuded dignity, grace, old wealth, and an odd nobility. She wondered if the owner of the place would look like his house.

                Then she shook her head. She was being silly. If the owners of the house were still living they wouldn't voluntarily be surrounding themselves with a bunch of bratty teenagers like her. No, likely the mansion had been donated to make a school for 'gifted youngsters'. She snorted to herself as Gary, the Sandersons' chauffeur, got her other three bags out of the back of the car. She'd tried to limit her packing down to one bag because she hated the clothes her parents bought her, but the housekeeper, Mrs. Ferrette, had packed everything Andi's parents had told her to pack for their daughter. Andi had just had enough time to slip her small hoard of money, her diary, and a plastic bag with her most precious possessions in it into the case after her mother had looked into it. She'd clutched the case to her all the way here, worried that her mother would demand a last minute inspection of her baggage. If she found Andi's secret bag, all hell would break loose, because there was no way she'd let Andi keep the things.

                She followed her mother and father up the front steps, and her father pressed the bell impatiently. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, he checked his watch impatiently. "Come on, we haven't got all day." He pressed the bell again.

                Andi listened, and inside, she heard the mellow chime of the doorbell. It was a musical one, and it played the opening bars of  'Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring'. It was a piece she had learned to play on her piano and her violin flawlessly because she liked it, and not because her parents had made her learn it so she could play for their guests and company. It said some interesting things about the person who had chosen that doorbell, and the song behind it. She wished more than ever that she had the opportunity to meet the person.

                A young man with handsomely chiseled features and brown hair opened the door. Andi's father swept past him into the grand foyer and said, "Professor Charles Xavier is expecting us."

                "Please come this way, sir," the young man said with more courtesy than Andi's father had shown him. He led the way down the hallway.

                Andi stared openly at the fine décor, furniture, and at the beautiful crystal chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling in the foyer as she passed under it. She noticed her mother looking rather enviously at it too, and smiled to herself in enjoyment of her mother's discomfiture. Her mother noticed. "Don't stare, Alexandra. It's not polite."

                "What about you?" she shot back, and none too quietly either. For just a moment their guide's even footsteps faltered. Andi wondered if that was a chuckle that had shaken his shoulders. Then the man opened a heavy, paneled wooden door, and showed them inside.

                A man sat behind the desk. Andi studied him curiously. He was bald, with many wrinkles on his face. Andi noticed they were the wrinkles that developed from much smiling rather than age. He looked to be about sixty, like her Grandfather before he'd died, but this man exuded an air of such nobility, dignity, and energy that he seemed much younger. He smiled warmly at her parents, then herself. She found herself wanting to smile back, but instead fixed her eyes to the carpet and stood silently by the heavy cherrywood bookshelf that lined the wall of the office closest to the door.

                "Hello, Mr. And Mrs. Sanderson. Hello, Alexandra. I'm Charles Xavier. Welcome to my school, and my home. Please, have a seat."

                Alexandra's jaw almost dropped open. This man was both the owner and headmaster of the school? She wasn't expecting that. Then she blinked in disgust at herself. In her shock, she hadn't thought to grab a chair. There were only two chairs in the office, and her parents were firmly ensconced in both of them. She would have to stand, then. She shifted her feet, subtly altering her posture so that she could shift her weight onto her right foot. Her left foot, thanks to the uncomfortable shoes, was developing a blister.

                "I'm sorry, I don't have enough chairs," the man said, his voice unexpectedly mellow and pleasant. "Please excuse me while I have another chair brought in--"

                "Oh, don't bother," Chelsea Sanderson said airily. "Robert and I won't be here long. His private jet is waiting for us at the airport; we have to leave soon if we want to make the corporate party in San Francisco tonight at ten." She flashed a smile that was supposed to be charming at Xavier, but to Andi's eyes it looked false.

                Xavier looked caught off-balance, but he recovered quickly. "Well, your rooms are ready, nonetheless," he said politely. "I assume you'll be back here tomorrow, then?"

                Andi's eyes narrowed in puzzlement. Why would her parents need rooms here?

                "Oh, no," Robert Sanderson said quickly. "That's not necessary. You see, we had planned to do some shopping in San Francisco, attend the opening of the opera there on Friday, and then we need to catch a flight to Europe so I can check on my European headquarters. We won't be back in the States until mid-September."

                Xavier blinked. "I'm sorry. I was unaware you had prior plans. I had rooms readied for you, as I do for all the parents of my students, so that you could spend a couple days here examining the facilities and meeting the faculty. Most of my students' parents and guardians choose to do this, and I assumed that was why you arrived here six weeks before the beginning of the autumn term." He steepled his fingers before him. "I read Alexandra's transcripts from her previous schools, and I have every faith in her ability to catch up on the few weeks' work she will miss while she accompanies you to Europe," he said. "In fact, travel might be a good idea, giving her a chance to relax before beginning the course work you have selected for her to begin this fall."

"What an idea!" Chelsea laughed. "Taking Alexandra to Europe with us! You must not travel often, Mr. Xavier. It's quite awful trying to drag all of our luggage all over Europe, and you propose we should bring a child with us? No, we decided to drop her off here early to avoid having to drag her halfway around the world!" She was still chuckling as she opened her tiny handbag and took out a piece of paper. "Here is Alexandra's schedule until classes start. You must be sure she wakes up at six o'clock every morning; she is lazy, and is apt to sleep late, but I'm sure your housekeeper can awaken her. Her breakfast is to be promptly at nine every morning. She tends to take forever eating, so her mealtimes is to be limited to half an hour; afterward, she is to practice on the piano until eleven-thirty. She has a half hour of free time before she is to eat lunch at twelve; then from twelve thirty until two-thirty she is to practice her violin.

"From two-thirty until five she is to be working on her studies. We have set her exercises in various subjects for her to complete, and she is expected to have completed them by the time we return here for a visit at the end of September. Her dinner is to be from five until five-thirty; afterward she has a half an hour of free time before she resumes her studies at six. There is to be two hours of study from six to eight; and then she has an hour of free time until her bedtime at nine." She handed the paper to Xavier, and said, "Alexandra has a copy of the schedule. She knows what is expected of her, and I expect that your staff will ensure that she follows the schedule. Is there anything else, Mr. Xavier?"

Xavier's smile had become rather fixed as he listened to Mrs. Sanderson recite Alexandra's schedule. Andi wondered if he thought the schedule as ridiculous as she did. "No, Mrs. Sanderson, I believe that will be all."

"One moment," her husband said, and Andi cringed. Now her father was going to get her in trouble. She knew that tone of voice. "You must be sure Andi is under supervision at all times. She is my daughter, but I have never made excuses for her behavior as other parents seem to do. She is willful, stubborn, and a troublemaker. You have no doubt read from the transcripts that she has been expelled from two other schools for disruptive behavior and excessive aggression. Should she cause trouble here, let us know. She has just come from a juvenile mutant correctional facility, where we hope she has learned the error of her ways, but if she should cause trouble here we will remove her immediately. And don't allow her to tell you she cannot control it; she is perfectly capable of controlling her…unfortunate abilities."

Xavier's smile was warm and sympathetic as he turned to Andi. "Alexandra, what are your particular gifts?" he asked her.

Andi opened her mouth to answer, but her mother beat her to it. "Gifts? More like curses. I can't believe we were cursed with a child who hears voices in her head. I'm still not sure she's not crazy."

"It's not voices, Mother," Andi said sharply. "More like feelings, or impressions."

"Don't contradict me, young lady," her mother said sharply. "How we were burdened with a child like you I'll never understand. It's quite bad enough that you're such a terrible child; and to be cursed with defective mutant genes, too! I suppose it comes from your Uncle Mike. My brother always was a disruptive influence. I suppose you got it from him by contamination."

Xavier said firmly, his smile gone, "The mutant gene is passed on by the male, Mrs. Sanderson, but the female must also carry the gene in order for it to become an active one in the child. It is not Alexandra's fault, nor is it your brother's. There is no way to 'contaminate' a normal person with the mutant gene. It does not work that way."

"So it's your fault!" Chelsea stood up with Robert and swung her ridiculously tiny purse at him. "I thought it was! I never liked your father!"

Robert said hurriedly, "Mr. Xavier, thank you for taking Alexandra off our hands for the next month or so. We appreciate you taking her in early. Is there anything else?"

Xavier said quietly, "Have you made arrangements with your bank for her allowance?"

Chelsea looked blankly at him. Andi stared too.

Xavier explained. "A weekly trip is arranged for our students, chaperoned of course, to the local mall, to purchase any small things they may want."

Chelsea laughed. "What an idea! That's a silly extravagance!"

"It is not, I assure you," Xavier said. "Our mathematics teacher believes that it teaches the students the value of money, and how to spend it wisely, as well as how to budget. As it gets closer to the holidays, we do have parties for the students so that they can exchange gifts with their friends."

Robert said quickly, "No parties. Not for Alexandra. Too many people tend to make her become disruptive. We expect her to follow her schedule, without deviance, every day she does not have classes. And when the term does begin, we do expect her to continue her music practice and independent studies in addition to her regular classes."

Xavier said quietly, "I see. Mr. Sanderson, may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"When does Alexandra have time simply to be herself, to be a child? Childhood is so fleeting, Mr. Sanderson, as I'm sure you have felt on any number of occasions. When is she allowed simply to do what she wants to do, when does she have time to be herself?"

He was clearly uncomfortable with the question. "She has a total of five hours a day to do what she likes; that is sufficient. Her psychiatrist is of the opinion that too much free time on her hands and an uncertain schedule is to blame for her uncontrollable behavior previously; and this was proved to be true once she was subjected to the set schedules of the juvenile facility we placed her in after she was expelled from her last school."

"I see." Xavier said again. "If that is all, Mr. Sanderson, I'm sure you have much better things to do than stand here all day wasting your valuable time discussing a child you consider a burden. Good day." And to Andi's surprise the door opened and the man was standing in the doorway, clearly waiting for her parents to leave so he could show them out.

His sarcasm was completely lost on her parents. They were glad to leave. Without a backward glance or a goodbye to Andi, standing silently by the large bookshelf, they followed the young man out. Xavier sat silently for a moment as the door closed, looking at the schedule in his hand, but Andi suspected he wasn't really seeing it; he was thinking of something else.