Christina woke up Sunday morning with a feeling of extreme excitement mingled with apprehension rushing through her. Today would be the first day of her new school and she could hardly wait. She, like everyone else in her family, was a witch, but had been living in America up until just a few weeks ago. Her father, Mr. Johnson, was offered a new job with a European Ministry of Magic, and so Christina would be attending a new school there instead. She missed her friends, of course, but she hadn't made any particularily close friends, and she hoped that by attending a new school for her 4th year of school, she could start over.
The smell of bacon and eggs wafted up the stairs toward her, she inhaled deeply. The prospect of eating bacon excited her; her mother hated bacon, and so only made bacon for her family on special occassions or when she was in a particularily good mood. Christina arrived at the bottom of the stairs to see that her two little sisters, Becky and Renee, were already at the table. They were twins, but not identical as Hollywood would prefer. At eight years old, Becky sported a head of pretty blond hair while Renee's hair was fiery red. No one in the family was quite sure where the red gene came from, as Christina's mother and father were blonde, not to mention Christina herself.
"It smells delicious, Mom," said Christina, sliding into a chair between her two sisters. Becky was pouring sugar onto her toast and Renee was applying liberal amounts of butter to her piece. Their mother came over and gently took the knife away from her, assuring a whining Renee that her bread had quite enough butter to get on with.
Christina licked her lips as a steaming plate of fried eggs and bacon was set before her. She ate the eggs quickly, but her bacon she savored, unsure when she would get the chance to eat it again. By this time, the dishes from her mother's meal were washing themselves in the sink, making soft chinking noises as they bumped together.
"When does Chrissie's train leave?" Renee said suddenly, looking up at her father, who had just entered the room.
"At 12:00 sharp," said Mr. Johnson, kissing Mrs. Johnson on the cheek, and taking his seat at the table. "So we should leave around 11:00; I'm not sure what the traffic will be like. He glared at Christina reproachfully, as though it was her fault she was not old enough to apparate to the station and so they were reduced to using Muggle transportation.
"Chrissie, honey," said Mrs. Johnson, ruffling Christina's soft blonde hair fondly, "it's ten 'o clock now--I let you sleep in because its a big day--we have about an hour before we have to leave, why don't you run upstairs and make sure you're all set for the school year?"
"Ok," replied Christina, getting up. She walked up the stairs and entered her room, thinking about what she was going to wear. It would, after all, be the first time all summer that she came in contact with anyone her age, and she wanted to make a good first impression with the people she would be spending her remaining four years of school with. Sighing, she pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and surveyed the contents. She wanted to look good. Turn heads. Have the boys wonder, "who is that? She's hot!" Christina smiled to herself, daydreaming.
Finally, she selected a tight turquoise shirt and jean shorts--the weather was quite hot, summer just having ended, and she expected she would be able to change into her school robes on the train. She wandered over to the trunk she would be bringing with her, examining the contents. To compensate for the move, Christina's parents had bought her a new wand, and given her some money for her to spend on whatever she wanted. The wand was shiny, as new as it was, and Christina picked it up and twirled it between her fingers for a moment. It was ten inches long, made from the wood of a Magnolia tree, containing unicorn hair. She gave it a wave, and bright blue sparks flew out from the end. She smiled, satisfied, and put it back in the trunk, wrapping it carefully in newspaper to keep it safe on the journey.
Her robes were underneath her wand. Christina had been very pleased with the list of required items that Hogwarts had sent her family--she had always fancied swooping about in a cloak of some kind, and now that it was required, her parents were forced to buy it for her. They went ahead and bought her two, a thicker one with grey fur lining for cold days and a thin, silk-like one for warmer days. Upon further begging, Christina had convinced her father to buy her some gloves to match her winter cloak; they were black and lined with the same grey fur. She rather liked thinking she looked like a lady from the eighteen hundreds when she had them on, a thought which both amused and pleased her. Her required Hogwarts robes, of course, were simply plain black, and fit her with a little room to spare because, Mrs. Johnson had said, "You won't stay fourteen forever, and money doesn't grow on trees." Jumbled in with her robes were a great many Muggle clothes that Christina just couldn't resist bringing along, just in case.
At the very bottom of her trunk lay the many books that had been on the list, along with a few books that Christina had coaxed her mother into buying her. Some of these included Boiling Beauty: 100 Potions to Solve Appearance Problems and Bored? You're Not a Wizard for Nothing: Charms to Entertain and Amuse. Christina smiled slightly, imagining the sort of things she would learn at her new school. Hogwarts was supposed to be the best wizarding school in all of Great Britain, after all, and European schools, as a rule, were rumored to be better than American schools by a long shot.
Christina climbed onto her bed, savoring her fluffy blankets for the last time. Maybe, in this new school, the beds would be lumpy and cold. She chuckled to herself, doubting that such a prestigious school as Hogwarts would treat its pupils poorly in any way. Christina sat up, folding her legs under her, criss cross, as was her favorite way of sitting. She could hear Becky singing in her head, "criss cross, applesauce". Christina smiled. She would miss her family.
"Christina?" there came a knock at her bedroom door. It was her mother. "It's time to go, Chrissie." she waved her wand and Christina's trunk closed and levitated to knee height.
"Oh--alright--" said Christina, realizing that she wasn't wearing any makeup and she had yet to brush her hair.
"We'll meet you in the car," said her mother understandingly, and exited the room, directing the trunk in front of her.
Christina rushed over to the mirror in her room and put on some eyeliner on the bottom, careful not to smear it on this special day. Then she squeezed some pale pink gloss out of a tube onto her lips and rubbed her lips together, examining the affect in her mirror. Shrugging, she quickly pushed her makeup into a little white bag (she constantly denied it was a purse) she had gotten in America and shuffled out of her room. By the front door, Christina hurriedly stepped into her sneakers before heading out to the car and the future that lay ahead of her.