Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks
Chapter One: Enter Helen
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Roses are red
Violets are blue
I don't own Potter
Neither do you
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Helen Parsons was an aged woman, about eighty years old, with bags under her eyes, curly salt-and-pepper hair, and a sweet smile. Her three grandchildren were each about to turn eleven in three weeks, and for the weekend, she was to take care of them.
She loved the little dears. Triplets, all of them. Three little boys who loved her candy so very much. Sure, they cleaned her out everytime they spent the night. But she loved them none the less.
Now the three little rascals had finally gone off to bed. Helen sat on her rocking chair, knitting. She was used to the quiet. She'd been a widow for quite some time.
As the moon glowed, huge and white, out the window, she felt herself getting drowsy. No use fighting it. With age came falling asleep at random intervals. Within a minute, she was snoring.
A few moments later, a light pecking sound awakened her. The woman gazed around her. Her big blue eyes spotted a small white bird hitting the window gently with its beak. It was an owl, but she couldn't identify it, because old people forget things so fast. "Well you're a sweet little bird aren't you?"
She walked up to the window and opened it. The owl had three small letters attached to its foot. Helen, noticing, detached them and read them. "Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry wants the Parson children to go to Hogwarts?" She reread it a couple of times. "Wow! They're so flattering, calling me a child. Those little dears. I guess I'm going ta Hogwarts!"
She began to do a jonty dance, but fell asleep in the middle of it. The letters fell to the ground.
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A/N: As you can see, I was so very, very bored. It's not even funny how bored I was.