author's note: this is some random harry potter fanfic that i recovered from the depths of my computer files. i finished writing the prologue to post it up here. i hope you guys like it, maybe i'll continue. i remember the ideas i had and it would be fun to write. :]

"Mum, why do I have to..."

"Jayden, do as you're told!"

"But Mum! I don't want to!"

"Merlin's beard, Jayden! Just clean your room!"

I glared at her as she turned away from me, pointing her wand at the kitchen counter again. Vegetables lay there, a knife beside them. The knife lifted into the air and began chopping the vegetables on its own. My mum then aimed her wand at the sink, where the dishes began to wash themselves.

"Mum, couldn't you just do that in my room?"

She turned towards me, slowly. I winced before she even met my gaze; I knew her eyes would be burning.

I was right, of course. She had been angry at me many, many times, and I had memorized her never-changing reaction to my stubbornness.

"Okay, okay," I muttered, heading toward the stairs. "You don't have to give me your basilisk stare...for the love of Dumbledore..."

Aria nearly fluttered into my room. My sister was always so graceful; I had often wondered if she was secretly a famous ballerina.

"It'll be any day now, Jay!" she sang, repeating her daily promise that she had been giving me for the last two months.

I'd been waiting for my letter from Hogwarts. Aria was going into her fourth year there, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get to go. I was eleven; my birthday had been in March. Now it was almost halfway through August, and an owl still hadn't come for me.

I knew I hadn't shown any magical abilities in my entire life. I had heard stories about how Aria would inadvertently change paper airplanes into doves and make her books fly to her from across the room.

But I'd never done anything like that – on purpose or accidentally.

That was why I was so worried that my letter might not come. Either I was exceptionally skilled at controlling myself, or I was merely a Muggle.

Aria refused to believe the latter. She claimed that it would be nearly impossible for me not to be a wizard; after all, our entire family line was pureblood.

But I wasn't so sure. I'd heard of magic skipping generations, and I was afraid that my family's magic had skipped me.

Aria was looking at me intently. She always gave the impression that she was reading your thoughts.

"Don't worry, Jayden," she assured me softly. "I'm positive your letter will come really soon."

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. That was exactly what she'd been saying for weeks.

"Really, Jayden!" she said irritably, her brow wrinkling with a frown as she put her slender hands on her hips. "You are so stubborn! Sometimes I –"

At that moment, a snowy white owl flew through my open bedroom window.

I stared at it, open-mouthed, as it landed on the bed next to me. It nudged my hand with its small head, trying to get me to take the letter that was tied loosely to its leg.

"I told you," Aria whispered. But I could detect the faint relief in her voice. She had been as worried as I had.

With shaking fingers, I loosened the knot that held the letter in place. Without unrolling it, I stared down at the parchment in my hand. I was jerked back to reality when the owl hooted, irritably shaking its leg at me that had an empty pouch tied to it.

"Thank you," I whispered, dropping a Sickle into the pouch. The owl fluffed itself importantly and soared out of my window.

My eyes drifted to the letter again. A small grin spread across my face as I unrolled it, and read the words that were the beginning of the best seven years of my life.