Disclaimer: All characters are creations of Ms. Joanne Rowling (J.K. Rowling), not of mine. Any similarities in plot or characters are derived from the published works of those including but not limited to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Warner Brothers.
The days are long gone when I would stay up til 4am in my bed, reading fanfics on my iPod. I shall write instead.
Chapter 1. The Forgotten Daughter
Autumn was coming to an end and crisp leaves were seen twirling in the chilling air near Central Station. It was 10am in the morning, and the last of the commuters were rushing through the gates, eager to bury themselves in the warmness of their offices. A lone pigeon was scavenging bread crumbs, away from the busy leather shoes and designer heels. It jumped a little in fright when a distant 'pop' was sounded, sending it back to its companions. A short while later, a man in his mid 20's ducked out of the gap between the ticket machines, and hurried across the length of the area towards a locked door marked 'Authorised Personnel Only'. If you ask me, this man must be a decade behind in terms of fashion sense: who on earth wears long, striped trench coats over midnight blue pyjama dresses? The man however, seemed perfectly fine with it, and kept walking through the crowd as if he had not been delving into his mother's wardrobe.
Across the hall and inside the locked door, was an older man sitting at his desk, feet propped onto the scattered piles of paper. He looked up when the door glowed brightly, and greeted the man in odd attire.
"Morning Rick, what took you so long?"
Rick slid out of his coat, ruffling his hair in frustration. "Hey Steve. Damn Muggles think it's a perfectly good excuse to stand around the station and not go to work just cos there's a damn protestor on the Harbour Bridge..." Steve picked up his Morning Prophet, slid his glasses further down his long nose and ignored Rick's continuing grumbles.
"...had to Apparate at the very end and walk all the way here, those damn Muggles wouldn't clear off and do whatever they do..."
"Yea well it's not like you don't need to shed off all those extra fat from those Lemontings right," replied Steve, barely glancing up from his paper. "I've told you, it's Lamingtons..." Over the summer, it seems that Rick's Muggleborn girlfriend had gotten him into the local delicacy, and he wouldn't eat another dessert since.
"Yea well anyways, who have we got incoming this morning?" Rick asked, finally falling into the plush armchair opposite Steve. After a good rummaging in the pile on the wooden desk, Steve finally pulled out a piece of parchment and squinted down the list.
"A young witch from London, England. Visiting relatives, it seems..." Steve mumbled, "10:10 sharp, so you'd better get your equipment ready mate. Then we got another one straight after , 10:13."
Rick gave him a roll of his eyes, and rose from his comfortable pose to get his gear. At the same time, a loud 'crack' resonated throughout the room, and a young witch Apparated out of thin air onto the discoloured carpet. She steadied her feet, and turned towards the men.
Stepping forward with an instrument at hand, Rick donned his best professional manner, "your wand please, Madam." The witch took out her wand and placed it gingerly on the silver disc.
"Let's see...Walnut, twelve and three-quarter inches, dragon heartstring. S'that right, love?" Rick looked up from the measurements, questioning the pretty brunette before him.
A nod from her - and another emotion flitted on her face for half a second that Rick couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it disgust?
"Alright then, well owl us when you are planning to leave and we'll put in a time slot for you," said Steve from his chair, scratching his quill onto the list. "Actually," the witch opened her mouth for the first time, speaking nervously, "I will be going back to England by Muggle transport." Seeing the blank looks on the men's face, she added hastily, "by aeroplane, I mean."
Rick smiled, "Hmm, Muggle parents? Oh, well in that case, we will have authorities stationed at Kingsford Smith Airport. Just let them know when you leave and they'll notify us alright sweetie?" A quick nod from her and she turned to the doorway, disappearing with a glow. "A nice day to you too, ma'am," muttered Steve. Turning to the still grinning Rick, it was his turn to roll his eyes, "seriously, what is it with you and Muggleborns..."