Karkaroff by Wasabi424
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.
Chapter 1- The Truth
(Sylvia's Diary)
Dear Diary,
I don't know how to process or paste onto this paper the thoughts, emotions and feelings as they course through my incredibly disorganized mind like satellite signals trying to reach someone in an underwater cave on the other side of the planet and that certain 'someone' might as well be a Yeti. The past few days have been so surreal and nerve wracking for me that I still feel like this is a dream from which I will suddenly wake up any moment now. I suppose introducing myself and talking (writing) about something else for a while might help calm my stupendously unique nerves, so here it goes:
My name is Sylvia Persephone Karkaroff, I recently turned eleven on the 5th of May and I live on Number 8, Corban Avenue, Cokeworth, UK with my aunt, younger sister and kitten. I have dark, black hair complimented with gloomy-grey eyes, pale-shabby skin and an unusually sharp-pointy nose. To top the list of things part of my ridiculous and peculiar appearance, I am awfully tall for my age. My sister, Polina Nadia Karkaroff is so much like me, yet we are so different.
She has the same grey eyes, bony fingers and unusual height but the alikeness of our appearance stops right there. She wears rectangular glasses, has light, brown hair and freckles which easily suit her smooth, creamy skin. Sometimes I find myself filled with envy of her fair appearance and elegance, especially that flat, well suited nose of hers. Although Polina and I are born a year and half apart, we often enjoy calling ourselves fraternal twins, most of the time people believe us.
We both enjoy reading but she will read almost anything while I will only stick to fiction. Polina will always take calculated risks and plan everything out while I often behave recklessly and moan about the consequences later. We love playing tennis together and neither of us can resist our shared love for chocolate.
My aunt, Helena Karkaroff is the closest thing to a mother we have ever come across. She has the same dark hair as me and the same flat nose as Polina, without those features no one would ever guess we were related. Our aunt works as an optometrist at the local hospital and hasn't had a relationship with anyone that I know of. We have a little kitten named 'Fanta', who has orange fur that looks just like Fanta.
We were told at a very young age that our parents had passed away. Our mother supposedly died in a car-crash and our father from lung cancer as he used to smoke. The only belonging I have of them is a photo of their wedding, a necklace with a heart-shaped locket and a Russian to English dictionary which belonged to my father when he was a teenager. I don't know if Polina has anything else. Aunt Helena will only ever talk about dad's early childhood and always avoids speaking about our mother.
I believe that I have now calmed down enough to convey what happened today.
This morning I had slept in, as I usually did during the holidays, and had rushed out of bed and hurriedly got ready to go back-to-school shopping for this year. Every year I forgot to buy at least one thing, but this year I was determined not to, especially since I would be starting at Cokeworth Girls' High School this year, something I had my head wrapped around for a few years now.
My hair was in a mess as usual and looked like a crow's nest when compared to Polina (I like calling her Polly in secret) whose hair was as neat as her essays.
As we were both following Aunt Helena down the corridor, the doorbell rang and all three of us (our aunt included) rushed to answer the door.
When the door was opened, we saw a man who appeared to be somewhere in his twenties. He had dark-chocolate skin, embedded with warm brown eyes and a broad figure which easily suggested that he regularly attended the gym. When he gave a crooked grin, I am sure Aunt Helena gasped. He wore jeans with a navy-blue button down shirt rolled up to his elbows.
"Hello, I'm Professor Thomas and was wondering if I could have a word with Sylvia Karkaroff and Helena Karkaroff", he said rather uncomfortably. The way he said our surnames, with such distaste made it seem like a swear word.
"Of Course, please come in", I said before my aunt could protest, pulling the door open wider.
One of the main reasons I don't have many friends at school because I am not allowed over at anyone's house or they ours. It felt terrible for years being left out of parties, sleepovers and playdates. Even now, I have a habit of grabbing every chance to welcome someone else into our home.
What happened after Professor Thomas came into the house is too long to convey into words and speech so I'll just give a quick overview. I really hope I am not going crazy.
1.I am a witch as were my parents.
2. My father attended a magical school called Durmstrang while my mother attended a wizarding school up in Scotland named Hogwarts.
3. My aunt is a squib, meaning a non-magical person born into a magical family and has kept the wizarding world a secret from me.
4. I have been accepted into Hogwarts and am expected to leave my family and technically move into a castle filled with people I don't know and people who have been raised differently from me.
5. My parents are not dead, just missing.
I think I need some sleep now.
I REALLY need some sleep now.
A/N: I apologise for the lack of detail in this chapter as I wasn't sure how to format it. The rest of the book will not be in diary format, only this chapter and I also apologise for the rushed ending. Expect an update before next week, please read the next chapter- I promise it only gets better. Also, please review.
Love,
Wasabi424