Wow, I'm actually writing stories again 'cause my last story got better reviews than any of my other stories I've ever written. Yay for me. Two people, purple pickles and me, write this story together after she enjoyed reading 'shall we dance Mrs. Potter?'
Princess-Turnip:- I own Harry Potter and the books and all the characters and all the merchandise and the other stuff remotely related to the whole idea of this character.
Purple Pickles: - no you don't
Princess-Turnip: - what would you know pickles?
Purple Pickles: - that you don't own all of that stuff. It belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling.
Princess-Turnip: - don't be such a smartass.
Purple Pickles: - -grins- it's my job to make you look stupid. I thought you knew that Turnip.
Princess-Turnip: - very funny. Can we get on with the story now?
Purple Pickles: - be my guest.
Princess-Turnip: - thank you very much.
Purple Pickles: - aren't you going to tell them what the story's about Turnip?
Princess-Turnip: - no.
Purple Pickles: - Turnip!
Princess-Turnip: - fine. Blah blah blah new character blah blah blah blah blah blah new character likes Harry blah blah blah
Purple Pickles: - -lip trembles- but… I thought we agreed that I got to marry Harry!
Princess-Turnip: - too bad. Change of plans.
Purple Pickles: - I get Daniel Radcliff then!
Princess-Turnip: - I thought they were the same person.
Purple Pickles: - Daniel's the actor dumbass!
Princess-Turnip: - you mean… the book's not real?
Purple Pickles: - I course the books not real. Neither is the Lord of the Rings.
Princess-Turnip: - oh my god! #$&! –Storms off and has a cry in the corner-
Purple Pickles: - here we go again…
PROLOGUE
Verona Aiwa woke up at 5.30 that morning. The morning she received the letter telling her she was accepted into Hogwarts. Verona was born into a pure blood wizarding family but when she wasn't showing any signs of magic her parents were very worried. Her great grandmother had started a tradition that if you gave an apple to the child on his or her third birthday it would turn into a cat. It worked for her sisters and her cousins, why not her? The tradition also stated that you had to keep the cat alive until you died. Verona found out on her ninth birthday that she was allergic to cats. She used to cry herself to sleep almost every night because of the looks of pity she would receive from family members. When she received the letter her parents were overjoyed, this meant she was a witch. Maybe just a slightly different one to the rest.
Xxx
Verona stepped off the train with her newly made friends and gazed at the huge castle nestled in the mountains. She felt homesick already, "come on Verona!" shouted Georgia excitedly, "hop in this boat with us" Verona peeled her eyes off of the castle and smiled at her friend, "coming Gee!" then raced off towards the boat.
"Verona Aiwa!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed through the great hall and Verona stepped forward. She was the first person on the list to be sorted by the ragged hat sitting on a low 4-legged stool. She placed the hat gently on her head and then folded her hands in her lap. A little voice spoke up, "another Aiwa huh? I know where to put you; exactly where the rest of your family have been for more than a century, SLYTHERIN!" Verona breathed a sigh of relief and flounced off to the table. Gee was a few people afterwards and she half-ran up to the stool, jammed the hat on her head and waited to be sorted. The hats brim opened wide, "SLYTHERIN!" both she and Verona squealed and Gee raced over to the table. It was when someone was sorted into Griffindor that she noticed a boy with jet-black hair and bottle green eyes.
Princess-Turnip: - so tell us what you think and if we should post up more chapters!
Purple Pickles: - I've already written the second chapter so I should be able to get it up soon.
Princess-Turnip: - I thought you were going to let me write the second chapter!
Purple Pickles: - I already did so you don't have to worry about it.
Princess-Turnip: - ok then!