Disclaimer: Six words, I am not J. K. Rowling. IF I were, I would be somewhere in Scotland with about 50 million dollars. However, the plot is mine, since Ms. Rowling never really focused on Oliver Wood, (( well, no duh! The main character is Harry Potter)). But this does not grant you permission to take it from me!
Prologue...
"Joy..do, do you really have to go?" A little boy asked an eight year old Joycelen sadly. This little boy had chocolate brown eyes and brown hair.
"Yes, Olie. I have to go. My parents are making me.." Joyce said, a tear rolling down her face. They were outside in Joy's yard, some where in Scotland. The sky was a dull dreary gray, a storm threatening above.
"You'll always 'member me right?" the boy looked away to hide his face because he started to cry.
"I always will Oliver," Joycelen wiped a tears from her eye as she hugged her best friend goodbye.
"Joycelen! Come on! We must go!" Joycelen's mother called in the distance. Joycelen looked at her resentfully, then turned to Oliver.
"Oliver here, have this," Joycelen said as she gave him her charm bracelet which was slightly too big for her. It had a broomstick charm.
"JOYCELEN ALLISON McCORMACK!" Joycelen mom's voice rang. Joycelen glared at her mom, then gave a longing look to her best friend, Oliver Wood. After one last hug, Joycelen slowly retreated back to the car, silent tears rolled down her face. She looked out the back to see her crying friend. She would never forget those brown eyes. She whispered to herself,
"Goodbye, Oliver"
Joycelen was awoken from her dream. One of her worst memories, leaving her best friend behind. Joycelen was not a 8 year-old anymore. It was 8 years after that event. She is now 16. Her family had just moved to back to Scotland and now she was going to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This day was the first day of school.
.::.Story Start.::.
"Joycelen! Get Up! And eat your breakfast!"
"Mumph..." I mumbled in my pillow.
I was never a morning person. No matter how hard you try to wake me up. Today was the day that I start school. What a great reason to get out of bed! I wonder if I would make any friends. They'll probably need to be my friend instead of wanting to be my friend
When I finally got out of bed, I slowly made my way to the bathroom. I looked at my self in the mirror. Nothing was different about me, same old Joyce, long brownish red hair, which was now flyaway and in knots, hazel eyes and tan freckly skin. I took a warm shower and got dressed. I went downstairs. My mum was already making breakfast.
"Oh good, Your up," She said as I sat down at the table. She gave me some breakfast. Porridge, great. I looked out of the kitchen window. A slight foggy mist covered our grassy green backyard. Scotland always seemed foggy at first, but then it clears up eventually. That's the great thing about it.
"heLLO...JOYCE!! Come back to me here!" A shrill voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I glared at the source of the voice. My sister, Kathleen was waving her hand in front of my face quite annoyed.
"I've been asking you to pass me the sugar like 5 times already!" She whined. I rolled my eyes as I passed her the sugar.
Kathleen is only 10 years old. She has long brown hair and brown eyes. Always constantly on my nerves, but she's the only companionship I got.
"So are you nervous?" She said curiously.
"No," I said shortly. I didn't really know how I was feeling. Half of me was excited and the other half wanted to go crawl under my bed covers and never come out.
"Well, owl me when you get the chance, it'll be awfully boring here without you. Scotland's all new to me and all. Maybe I'll explore the yard. Well might as well say field. Maybe I'll meet a Jarvey, what do you think?" Kathleen rambled. I nodded, only half listening. Jarvey's are somewhat of a ferret who talks or can communicate none the less, they are quite the story tellers, real gossipers. Perfect for Kate.
"-I want a kneazle, or even a half kneazle, what do you think Joyce? I think I'll name it Flurilyn" I snorted in my porridge. Kate gave me a indignant glare.
"Flurilyn? Really, mmhmm, it's a nice name." I said quickly.
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