A/N So here it is, my actual story. Thanks to Em and Charlotte for being my unofficial betas. Well, erm, I'm doing this mostly to work on my character development skills. All reviews would be welcomed with much glee and happy-smiley-noises, and in turn all reviewers will telepathically receive a basket of lemon drizzle cake, because everybody likes lemon drizzle cake. But wait, I must go, I hear the sound of my approaching story; I'll catch up with you later, enjoy.

The weather reflected my mood on that day. I woke to the rain gushing in a torrent on the skylight above and my alarm clock pounding a monotonous drone into my ears. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. The first day of August and it was raining. Classic British summertime weather. Oh joy.

In my anger at the world in general for having to be up this early I lashed out with my foot; the clock smashed on the opposite wall and the pieces slid into a little heap next to the door. Six thirty in the morning. I couldn't be up this early. No. it was a scandal, a conspiracy; no one normal got up at six thirty.

But then I thought: do I count as normal? Surely I do. I mean, just because I hadn't received any conformation that I, Cassandra Ann Clark, had been accepted into any magic school didn't mean that I was abnormal. I think anyway.

I mean, it's not I couldn't be home schooled. Mum could always teach me, that is unless she doesn't die of shock at having such a daughter. Although I did know she was disappointed, so was dad, bloody hell I would be. Knowing a spawn of my loins was so worthless that no school in the whole world wanted them wouldn't exactly be the best compliment to my parenting skills.

"What was that?" a voice snapped from downstairs. Oh no. Mother; and trouble.

"Well dear, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it was one of your daughters" a second voice answered. Dad.

Alfred Clark, my stepfather, truly was a brilliant person and I had inherited so much of his personality and traits and was incredibly thankful of his impact on my life, if he hadn't of married mum I reckon I would have ended up just like her, which I defiantly didn't want. Thanks to him I was a muggle-enthusiast, an avid Quidditch supporter (however bad I was at the particular game in question) and had a mild rebellious streak; of which the clashings of these two rebellious streaks usually ended in dad 'accidently' giving me his wand and/or firewhiskey, resulting in the kitchen exploding, the dog growing an extra leg and when I was seven, turning myself electric blue and gravity-resistant.

Loud footsteps on the stairs told me that mum was coming to see what I'd done wrong this time. I stuffed my head under my pillow and feigned sleep, braced for impact.

The door banged open and I reluctantly extricated my head from safety and looked toward the direction of the doorway. There stood the ever-imposing figure of my half-veela mother.

A/N So, short chapter, how'd you like it so far? how's my writing? does Cassie seem like a Mary Sue? Review please, I could do with the advice, even flamers, they're just too funny. I'll update as soon as I can.

Lots of love, Elmo

So long, and thanks for all the fish