I don't own anything but my own characters, though one day I will actually own my own characters and make a whole lot of money! Until then I will have to content myself with playing withsomeone elsescharacters. Enjoy!
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Angela Dursley did not like her father very much. He was a very large man with blonde hair that stuck to his scalp, several chins, and beady little eyes that reminded her of her grandfather, whom she also did not like. She knew that it was a bad thing to hate one's relatives, especially one's own father, but she couldn't help it. She would always blame her father for her mothers disappearance (for she refused to believe that her mother had left on her own like her father had told her), and she couldn't stand how he looked down on everything that was different from what fit into his view of 'normal'. Which basically meant, man goes to work, woman stays home, and social status and material possessions mean everything.
Every time she had to visit her grandparents they always made such a fuss and bought her the most outrageous presents, which she didn't really want in the first place. What she really wanted were fantasy books that told stories of magic and myths, dragons and sorcerers, but the one time that she had mentioned this her father and grandfather had flown into a rage and her grandmother looked like she was going to have a heart attack. She had never mentioned it again, and since then had pretended to be very happy with the disgustingly pink, frilly clothes or toys that she didn't want just so she wouldn't make them that mad again. On the rare occasion that she did get a book, it was a normal, bland one that had no character depth and absolutely nothing magical in it. She never read those books.
Her father, Dudley Dursley, had followed in his fathers footsteps, and she knew that she was expected to either follow in his footsteps, or marry someone who would. Which she had no intention of doing since she would be damned if she ever had kids that were as heartless and greedy as her father and grandfather. Not to mention as obnoxiously nosy as her grandmother, who loved to spy on her neighbors and was always trying to force horrendous amounts of sweets down her throat. Now don't get her wrong, she liked sweets just as much as any kid, but the sheer amount that her grandmother tried to feed her was sickening, and she was afraid of looking like her father, who looked like a small killer whale on the best of days.
At least, that's how she had been treated before her mother disappeared.
Since then she had been made to cook and clean everything, and whenever her relatives looked at her it was with loathing, and they usually shuddered as well. And when she received birthday or Christmas presents they were either utterly normal (gone was the frilly pinkness thankfully) or books on how evil and utterly preposterous magic was in the hopes that they could get her to stop dreaming about a world where magic existed. As if that would ever happen.
She herself was very thin, with long legs and arms that her teacher had told her meant she would be fairly tall one day. She hoped so, cause the taller she was the less she would look like her father. She had light skin, wavy dark brown hair that refused to stay tidy for more than five minutes after brushing it, and bright blue eyes exactly like her mothers that loved to look at the world and showed an intense desire to learn all she could about it. She already knew from a photograph of her mothers (which she had managed to save when her father went around destroying everything of hers) that she looked more like her mother than her father, and the thought made her immensely happy.
She didn't remember to much about her mom, since she had disappeared when she was five. What she remembered most was the night before she had disappeared, when her parents had had a fight. At the time she hadn't quite understood what they had been fighting about, but she had always remembered what had been said and through listening to the teenagers who lived down the street talk she had been able to figure out that her father was questioning whether or not he was actually her father. The thought that he might not be her father made her immensely happy, but it also raised questions as to who her father really was and all that.
But right now she had more pressing matters to attend to then who her father was. You see, she had just received an odd letter that morning in the mail. It couldn't rightly be called paper because of its texture and coloring, it looked more like an old piece of parchment to her, like something out of a fairy tale, and she had no idea how it had been delivered. It was her first name on the paper, with what she thought was her mother's maiden name of Andrews after it, and it had her address of 26 Gundart Road, along with 'the attic room', which is where she slept. Plus there was no postage stamp, so it couldn't have been delivered by the mail man. And on the back it had Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry written in dark green ink. Those words alone made her immediately stick the letter in the back pocket of her jeans and fold her sweater over it, for if her father saw those words she knew he would throw a fit worse than the last one.
She had been most antsy that night at dinner, wanting to finish as quickly as she could so that she could go up to her room and read the letter privately, but no matter how fast she ate she still had to wait for her father to finish eating and then she had to make sure that everything was perfectly clean before she would be excused to go upstairs.
Finally the kitchen and the rest of her chores had received her father's stamp of approval and she had hurried upstairs as fast as she could before he could find anything else wrong. Listening closely to make sure that her father wouldn't be coming upstairs anytime soon she pulled out her letter and sat on her bed, just holding it and looking at it. She somehow knew that once she opened this letter her life would change, but she didn't know if it would be for the better. Just the name of the school brought hope to her mind, that life was not the dull social climb her father had taught her about. But it would also mean that she would leave everything familiar behind, and that's a scary thought no matter who you were or what your situation in life was.
She didn't get the chance to open it though, as the doorbell rang at the instant that she was going to, making her jump. She listened and heard her father answer the door, then slipped out of her room quietly and crept to the top of the stairs so that she could at least hear what was going on. If she tried to see who it was then they would see her, and she would likely be punished so she contented herself with just listening. Her father exploded almost before the door opened.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU FILTHY WHORE! YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS HERE! GET OFF MY PROPERTY!"
"As soon as I have my daughter I'll be more than happy to leave." Angela's eyes flew open wide at that voice. She knew that voice. She had never and would never forget that voice. She hadn't heard that voice in almost six years but she knew that voice. She practically flew down the stairs.
"MOMMY!" She yelled happily and launched herself at her mother, nearly tackling her to the ground. Almost immediately her father grabbed a fistful of her shirt and pulled her away.
"You can't have her." He said hotly as she struggled. Her mother held up a folded piece of paper.
"The courts say that I can. She is my daughter, not yours. And these fine gentlemen behind me are here to make sure that I get her." Her father dropped her in surprise as the two police men who had previously been hidden by the dark night stepped where they could be seen. Her mother smiled as Angela once again attached herself to her legs and kissed the top of her head. "Honey, I want you to go upstairs and get your things, all right? Can you do that?" Angela looked up at her indignantly.
"'Course I can, I'm not five anymore." She said, and thought that she saw a brief shadow of pain flash through her mother's eyes.
"No, of course you're not honey. Now go on, go get your things." Angela ran up the stairs, completely ignoring the fact that she wasn't allowed to run in the house, and pulled out the suitcase that she used when she stayed overnight at her grandparents. Into it she threw some of her less offensive clothes (nothing with pink in it), her two favorite books, The Lord of the Rings and The Mists of Avalon, her diaries, and stuck her mysterious letter in her back pocket once again. She then pulled on her shoes and jacket and thundered back down the stairs, her suitcase bumping with each step. She slipped her hand into her mothers and went to leave with her, turning around at the last second to look at the man whom she had called father.
"Good-bye." She said politely. He just sneered at her and slammed the front door. As they walked to the car waiting for them Angela supposed that she should, on some level at least, be feeling sad or angry or something along those lines about the way her father (No! Dudley! He wasn't her father) had just dismissed her and her mother like that. But maybe it was because her mother had finally returned to her or the fact that her father (Dudley! Dudley!) had been treating her in a similar fashion for so long that she was now used to it, and it didn't hurt like it should. But as she looked up at her mother's smiling face and laughing eyes she really couldn't care less.
8 8 8
The next morning she woke up in a bit of panic, at first not understanding why she was in a strange bed in a strange room. But then the previous night came back to her and she snuggled down happily into the sheets and large quilt that her mother had given her last night. She heard the door to her room open and saw the lights come on from under the covers and smiled to herself.
"C'mon lazy butt, time to get up." Angela snuggled a little deeper, then threw off her covers and flung herself at her mother's legs, nearly toppling both of them to the ground. "Well, aren't you energetic. Some things never change." Angela looked up at her mother and smiled.
"I'm just so happy that I have you back." Angela said. Her mother kissed the top of her head.
"I know pumpkin. I'm happy to. Now c'mon, you need to eat something before we go shopping."
"Shopping? Why do we need to go shopping?"
"Why, for your room of course! You don't expect to stay in a room without color, now do you? Not to mention you didn't bring a lot of clothes with you."
"Most of what I had was pink and frilly and I really hate that stuff." Her mother laughed as she steered them towards the kitchen.
"All right then, nothing frilly and nothing pink. So what colors do you want?"
"Purple, silver, blue, green, yellow, orange, red…" Her mother started laughing again.
"I think I get the picture. You're room is going to look like a tornado of paint hit it by the time that we're done decorating. And here, this fell out of your pocket last night." She said and handed Angela the mysterious letter. Her face instantly lit up.
"Oh, I'd forgotten all about it! Thanks mom." She said and took the letter from her mother, then stared at it curiously.
"What's wrong pumpkin?" She asked as she began making breakfast.
"The address is different."
"Are you sure?" Angela nodded.
"Uh huh. It had Da…Mr. Dursleys address on it yesterday, and now it has this address on it." Her mother held out her hand, and Angela placed the letter in it. She examined it closely, turning it over and holding it up to the light before handing it back to her.
"Are you sure you read it correctly?"
"Definitely. It even had the Attic Room on it, which is where I slept."
"Well, it seems to be all right. Why don't you open it." Her mother handed it back to her, and Angela eagerly tore open the wax seal and pulled out two pieces of paper, reading it aloud from the top of the paper.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
Order of Merlin, Second Class, Chief Sorceress, International Confederation of Wizards.
Dear Ms. Andrews. We are please to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Term begins on September 1st. All students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival. Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith. A representative from our school will be arriving at your residence within a day to explain the significance of your acceptance. We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Hogwarts Heritage. Please pay close attention to the list of school supplies that you will need for the year.
Yours sincerely,
Colin Creevy
Deputy Headmaster."
Angela looked up at her mother, her eyes wide with disbelief and a little bit of hope that it was all real. Her mother once again held out her hand for the letter, and Angela handed it to her wordlessly. She read it over quickly, then looked at her daughter.
"You can breathe now pumpkin, that is what the letter says." Angela let out an explosive breath and then began to bounce up and down excitedly.
"You think it's true? That there's really a school that teaches magic and I've been accepted? I didn't even apply! I didn't even know it existed!"
"Calm down pumpkin. The letter says that a representative will be arriving to explain everything. Since one didn't arrive at Dudley's house then one must be arriving here today."
"But we moved. How will they find me?" She whined, some of the excitement leaving her voice. Her mother tapped the envelope.
"You did say that the address was different from yesterday. And this is supposedly from a school of magic, so I think that it's safe to assume that they'll be able to find you. Now have some breakfast and then wash up."
"Okay. But I hope this representative gets here soon." Her mother chuckled as she watched Angela wolf down the bacon and eggs, then dash up to her room to get ready. Her smile faded to one of sadness as she pulled out her wallet and lovingly touched the torn and faded picture of five year old Angela, comparing it to the energetic older version that was singing happily off-key as she picked out an outfit. Her baby had started growing up without her. She took a shaky breath and placed her wallet back into her purse. She might have missed the last few years of her daughters life, but she was here now and was going to make the most of it.
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Please let me know what you think! You'll start meeting the regular Harry Potter characters in the next chapter, but please review on this one! Thank you for reading!
