Hey all! Ok, first published fanfic, hope you like it. Obviously, all of the characters, locations, etc. are J.K. Rowling's (I do love that woman). The only stuff that is NOT hers, and is mine: Clara Edwards, Adrian Michaels (sort of...I share him with a friend), Eaglethorne Academy of Magic, Clara's parents...yeah, nothing terribly interesting. Please don't steal stuff because it's uncool : ) Read on!
Chapter 1:
Clara Edwards sighed heavily as she sat down on her bed. She looked around her bedroom, which was littered with half-full boxes and packaging materials. Her eyes made their way to the mirror hanging above her dresser. She pushed a stray strand of curly auburn hair off of her face, revealing dark brown eyes.
To the unsuspecting eye, Clara Edwards was an average 17-year-old. She and her parents had just recently moved to a small village called Ottery St. Catchpole in England. Their next-door neighbors thought that the Edwards's were quite nice, if not slightly eccentric (owing, no doubt, to the fact that they had come from America). What those muggles did not know, however, was that Clara and her parents were wizards.
Harold and Helen Edwards met while working for the Ministry of Magic in London. They married, and two months before Clara was to be born, Harold accepted a position as an ambassador Auror for the Ministry in America. They moved to the states and led a relatively quiet life. Clara first showed her aptitude for magic at the age of three when she accidentally shattered a window during a temper tantrum. Her parents were thrilled.
At the age of eleven, Clara received a letter from Eaglethorne Academy of Magic inviting her to begin her education. She found that many subjects came easy to her, though she struggled slightly with Potions and Astronomy. It was near the end of her sixth year when her father was asked to return to England. You-Know-Who (or Lord Voldemort, for those brave enough to use his name) had been steadily returning to power after nearly dying when he tried to kill Harry Potter, often better known as The Boy Who Lived. Harry had become famous in the wizarding world, and even growing up in America Clara knew his name.
She stood and moved toward her trunk. Tomorrow morning, she would embark on the train ride to Hogwarts, where her seventh and final year of magical education would begin. After throwing in her freshly laundered robes, Clara latched the trunk and began to get ready for bed. She knew she wouldn't sleep - it was nerve-wracking, having to start her final year at a new school - but she had to try.