A/N: Okay so this first chapter may not be the best but I promise it gets funnier in the next if you stick around. Disclaimer: I obviously don't own harry potter, nor do I own my friend... I don't even own the idea to insert myself and my best friend into Harry Potter. -_-' So basically I only own myself. Well, I hope you enjoy... and possibly comment? ^_^ Well, on with the story.
Dread and embarrassment filled me as I sat on the chair, feet unable to reach the floor. "Abigail Stewart, get down here this instant." My teacher's shrill voice commanded as I looked down in panic. I didn't mean to, I don't know how to control it. It's not like I wanted to levitate my chair to the ceiling.
I squirm in my suspended chair only to freeze and hold the chair in a death grip as it wobbled. It was like I was on one of those blow up pool toys or a canoe where the slightest movement could send me overboard. Only overboard meant wooden tables instead of water. I can hear the other students' laughs as frightful tears rolled down my cheeks. One of them through a paper plane dangerously close. Why was this happening? Why couldn't I just curl up in a ball and pretend it was all in my head? Oh yeah, because attempting that would equal a face full of wood.
I was always a bit slower than my classmates. No, I don't have a learning disability. I simply have to process concepts in my mind for a little longer than others. Probably explains why I never complete a test within the time limits. I also have an annoying habit of getting random headaches all the time. Oh and guess what, to add to my already distressed person one decides to hammer against my skull. I lift my hands to press on my forehead hoping to stop the pulsing ache. Bad idea. I enter a freefall as my chair dips out from underneath me. Time seems to slow as my impending doom is rising to meet me. No, wait, the teacher simply casted 'aresto momentum'. Time is at its normal speed, and I'm still screaming at the no longer threatening carpet. Unless I get a carpet burn that gets all infected. Can carpet burns get infected? And I'm still screaming- nope I just manage to clamp my jaw shut before landing with a slight thud as the air escapes my lungs. So you can slow my descent but you can't give me a nice gentle landing?
I HATE it here.
The corridor makes this place look like your average school. Pretty pictures from the art students lined the hallway and the large windows let in plenty of light. Doors had simple labels of the teachers' names. But that didn't change the fact that in the science lab we had stands to hold cauldrons over the Bunsen burners or that in the sports shed where flying broomsticks. The oval doubled for both muggle sport and quidditch and the principal had stolen Gandalf's beard. I'm not kidding. I'm looking right at him. He looks exactly like Gandalf except he's wearing a singlet shirt and coffee stained football shorts. And if that didn't scream professional loud enough for you he had his extremely hairy legs and exposed chipped toenails resting on his desk as he looked at me. Wait. He is looking at me. Looking at me with concern. Oh he asked me something, didn't he? Hagefulableah. (A/N: I dare you to try to say that :P)
"Abigail, this is Professor McGonagall." He gestures causing me to notice the stiff as a stick women looking at his attire with disgust. Her grey hair is in such a tight bun that I'm surprised it isn't being pulled out at the roots. She has dark emerald and black robes on and a very tall pointed hat. A freakin' pointed hat! May as well add a neon sign saying 'I'm a witch, deal with it' above her head. She does realise that there are both muggle and magic kids at this school, right? And that the muggles don't know, right? That's why we are spit up with the classes. "She is the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Oh, so she isn't another teacher hired in an attempt to help my sporadic magic problem. I give her a shy smile while Mr I-stole-Gandalf's-beard still looks at me with those sad eyes. Okay so if it isn't my newest let's-control-your-magic helper then why am I here? Surely not to act as ambassador. For starters the sporadic magic under nerves situation. Secondly, I've only been here two and a half years. Wouldn't an older student be more suited? Mr Gandalf's-beard-thief knows I'm probably the shyest student in his school, he wouldn't make me play tour guide. Would he? It would explain that sad look his giving me. He is looking at me like that because he is sending me to my doom. And I thought you were nice Mr Cracked Toes.
"Look Abi, we've tried our best to help. But I'm afraid there isn't much left that we can do." He swings his legs under the desk, instead learning forwards as if trying to console a child. Oh wait, I am a child. Well at least I can rule out the ambassador option, I think. 'Best to help'. Best to help what? Is this to do with not being as quick as everyone else? Because I'm pretty sure there isn't any way to help that. Unless there is an almighty absorb-information-like-a-sponge potion. That would be cool. Until someone squeezes the sponge. On second thoughts maybe it wouldn't be so cool. "I understand that this will be hard for you, but Professor McGonagall here is willing to transfer you to Hogwarts. We both believe that the staff there may be able to help you with your spontaneous magic."
Oh it's back to the magic again. Wait, transfer to Hogwarts? How does that work? I'm being offloaded because I can't be controlled. Am I some kind of pet going to obedience school? What happens if this Hogwarts doesn't help? Will I just be off loaded to another school called Toadboils? Hogwarts is a strange name. I wonder where it is. But I can't. My parents don't know what I am. My sister is attending this school as a muggle. I sure as hell couldn't claim to have a scholarship. Maybe admittance into a Psych ward but definitely not another school. I don't know why but I just have this thing against letting my family know I am a witch. Call me crazy, call me weird, call me a bloody coward. I don't care, my family is not going to know about this.
"Abi?" Oh right, they are looking at me for a response. I really should leave all the excessive thought process until after the conversation. I'm pretty good at not thinking up anything useful until after the argument has ended. And I still haven't responded. Ground just swallow me now. Wait, no please don't swallow me. I forgot that last time it actually did. My teacher wasn't too happy about that. Her fault for making me do an oral.
"I… ugh… I… don't know." And of course my meek little unsure voice doesn't get across my inner argument. I play with my hands in my lap. Why couldn't I just be normal? What even is normal?
"Miss Stewart," the stern women starts but I interrupt her with my wide-eyed shock.
"You're British?" Nice going Abi. Way to make a good impression on your possible new principal. But if she is British does that mean Hogwarts is in England. I could never find a cover story for that. I guess she won't be my future principal after all.
"As I was saying, it would be in your best interest. Those who struggle to control their magic can't really last in either world. We simply wish to help. I'm sure if we spoke to your parents they would understand."
Panic rises again and I furiously shake my head. No, she can't tell my parents. I don't want them to know. The ceiling light starts to flicker in time with my racing heart. My flying hair turns a bright yellow, matching those radiation hazard signs. I don't want them to know. I don't want them to know.
"Abi." I look up at the principal as he says my name. "Calm down, Abi. We don't have to tell your parents. Of course we would have to talk to them about the transfer but they don't have to know." I knew there was a reason I was comfortable with his Bogan appearance. He was more laid back and understanding than what a strict well groomed adult would be. It was like my parents. My dad is more laid and relaxed while my mum was the rule enforcer who had to have everything perfect. But they definitely weren't to the extremes of the elder pair in front of me.
"Now why don't you go on and start lunch early. I can speak with your parents. All I need to know is that you are okay with this choice." I stare at his comforting eyes and reassuring smile before my own meek smile form and I give him a small nod. "Good, run along now. Oh and if you could tell the tuckshop to set aside a mince pie for me that would be marvellous."
A/N: Okay. Please let me know what you think or if you spot any typo's (I try but I always miss something no matter what). Next chapter will be up tomorrow for those who stick around for the crazy to come. Cya next time ^_^