It was the first day of the summer holidays. I awoke to the melodic chirping of birds outside my window. I stretched and deeply inhaled at the smell of bacon and marmalade. "Good morning, Ameita!" Dad said folding his newspaper. "I must tell you that today is the day your life will change completely." He took a sip of his tea.
"How's that? Are we moving again?" I asked biting into a piece of toast. "I would rather we stay here, you know, it's pretty nice." If they were good at nothing else, my parents had a knack for nomadicity. It seemed as though we could not stay in one place for long, and my indifference about the matter would certainly have no effect on my parents' wishes. But there were no trace of boxes lying around anywhere. And not one packing peanut littered the floor. All the family photos were still intact upon their places on the wall.
"We've news to tell you, wonderful news!" Mum said shoveling bacon onto Dad's plate. If it was so magnificent, why was it taking so long for them to tell me? I choked on my toast when a possible reason reached my mind.
"Mum-you're not—pregnant are you?" I gasped. I wasn't the type to wish for a brother or sister; I liked being an only child very much.
"Of—of course not honey!" she said clutching her middle. "It doesn't—doesn't look as if I am, does it?" she panted, looking down at her tummy. She ran out of the kitchen, probably to take a gander at herself in the mirror. I shook my head and went back to munching on my bacon. Glancing at my father's paper, I noticed the pictures were moving.
"Um, Dad, if I'm not mistaken, the pictures on your paper are not motionless as they should be," I said uneasily. Mum had walked back into the kitchen, looking a bit disgruntled.
"It's normal, for wizards like us," she said with a straight face. It was clear that I couldn't finish my breakfast while my parents talked because I choked on my toast for the second time.
"Excuse me, I don't believe I heard you correctly, but did you say 'wizards'?" They looked up at me, smiling as if I going insane was the happiest day of their lives.
"Yes, that's what she said, dear," Dad said calmly. Obviously, the insanity was spreading. "We're wizards."
They were very intelligent, my parents. They were always deeply involved in facts and reality. This is the reason I didn't understand why they, of all people were saying these things with overwhelming calmness.
"What're you playing at?" I asked. "Wizards? There aren't such things!"
"Ah, but there are, Ameita, dear, since you're one as well," my mother said to me.
Ever since I was a baby, my parents hid the fact that they were wizards from me and moved to a non-wizard neighborhood. When I had asked them why, they didn't say much, just the word, 'Voldemort'.
"Did you have to say the name, Jonathan, dear?" Mum asked, grimacing.
"Elaine, she had to know the name, can't go around thinking He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was his only label now could we?" Dad said soothingly.
It was just too much to take in. The unnatural things that occurred around me were results of extreme awkwardness, I had thought.
Later that week, Dad brought a rather large box home. On the front it read:
Ollivander's Wand Shop
"What's that Dad? In the box?" I asked. He sat the box down in front of me on the floor.
"Go on, open it, and pick a wand," he said, taking a seat next to Mum. I went through about twenty wands before picking up a reddish one. The moment the wand was in my hand it emitted colorful sparks directly at Mum. "Excellent!" Dad said excitedly, ignoring squeaks from Mum, who had been transformed into a mouse. "Eleven and a half inches, alder wood, a bit bendy, and…talon of a hippogriff."
"Squeak, squeak!"
"Oh, sorry, dear," Dad said turning Mum back with the flick of his own wand.
Mum and Dad began chatting animatedly amongst themselves about my future school. They were definitely not this happy when I was to start attending Deighton Primary School in Gwent. That same day I was informed that my parents had jobs in a place called Diagon Alley in London. Mum was a bookkeeper at Flourish and Blotts. And Dad, he worked at Ollivander's Wand Shop. "How is it possible for you to have time to get all the way to London?" I questioned. Wales was a fair distance from London.
"Apparition, very useful, but you'll learn all about that at Hogwarts, you'll love it," Mum replied as she closed the box and handed it back to Dad. "It's where we met."
"Ever since I asked your mother to the Yule Ball, we've always been in love," Dad said, smiling at Mum.
"Is Hogwarts the school you say I'm supposed to be going to?" I asked quickly, trying to avoid a lovey-dovey tale that would surely upset my stomach.
"Yes, you'll be going to in September," Mum said excitedly.
"Where is it, then?" I asked.
"Well, no one knows, do they? It can't be found on a map, and to Muggles, it appears as a pile of rubble." Dad said.
"Muggles? What's that?"
"Regular, non-magical people."
"So, I was to go to Hogwarts at the age of eleven? What am I supposed to do about all the stuff I should've learned?" I asked. I definitely did not want to start with first years. It would be too embarrassing.
"Dumbledore said that you will be allowed to start as a fourth year if and only if we teach you the basics," Mum said.
"What do you mean we? You two? As in Jonathan and Elaine Matthews?"
They nodded.
"Oh, no," I said, growing nervous as I watched Dad and Mum pull their wands out of their pockets. My parents were a clumsy pair. Doing chores was a great hassle for them. Mum could not do the laundry without my help. She had broken six washing machines and four dryers last year. Dad would try to fix things that he didn't know how to fix in the first place. Sadly, most of the things he would try to repair ran on electricity. I greatly feared that one day, he would perish from electrocution.
To my great surprise, my parents were astounding at magic. From Transfiguration, to Divination, they were experts. To my surprise again, I was also quite good at being a wizard.
"Accio, book!" I shouted, pointing at the living room bookcase.
"Ameita, dear, try to catch the books, please," Dad pleaded, dodging the thick, sixty chapter book I Summoned from the bookshelf.
"Jonathan, Ameita, dinner's—" Mum had walked in, only to be smacked dead in the face with the book Dad dodged, "—ready," she replied weakly. She rushed back into the kitchen.
At the dinner table that night, it felt as though we had moved to a new house after all. As I looked around, I saw that Mum had redecorated the whole house. All of the stationary photos that hung proudly on the wall were replaced by moving images. A younger Mum and Dad, (Mum in a white dress and Dad in a suit), smiled and waved from a frame near the front door. A grinning baby, (me), crawled happily around in a silver and red frame. She occasionally attempted to walk, but would only fall backwards onto her bottom, giggling. Two gleaming badges sat upon the mantel of the fireplace. They each sported large letter P's on the front of them. Beside them were two photos. One of a young girl, and the other, a boy.
The caption under the first picture read: Elaine Dumas, Head Girl of Hogwarts
The other said: Jonathan Matthews, Head Boy of Hogwarts
My home was actually starting to feel like a wizard family's house. The dishes merrily washed themselves, surprisingly not spilling a drop of water on the floor. Even if you dropped a crumb on the floor, a broom would speed over and sweep it up. For the first time in years, my room remained absolutely clean.
The remaining summer afternoons were spent flying on my dad's old broom, a Cleansweep Eight. Truth be told, I was very clumsy on a broom, but my flying was fair nonetheless.