Chapter 1- Prologue
If there's one thing I hate about being a Squib, it's the whole lack of magical ability thing I have going on.
Obviously.
I mean, I could do almost anything with just a wave of a wand, right? It would save so much hassle. For example, right now I could levitate that bag of Fizzing Whizzbees all the way over here from the other side of my room without moving a muscle. And yes, I eat Fizzing Whizzbees. Adore them, in fact. Just because I don't belong in their world doesn't mean I can't dip into their luxuries, okay?
But, alas, I am powerless, stinking Squib (not literally stinking, though; that's just a silly rumour). It's no fun being the runt of the litter, believe me. My younger sister, Florence, gets to learn magic spells in some fancy castle and Daniel, my older brother, gets to run around making coffee for this famous Wizarding policeman dude called Harry Potter while I have the time of my life studying science and maths in a 'Muggle' comprehensive, as magical folk like to call it.
It's really not fair. But I've learnt to deal with it by not thinking about it too much, and appreciating what I do have, such as my wonderful best friend in the whole wide world, Flora, who is noisy, brash and a little narcissistic - the complete opposite of myself. I was drawn in by her confidence; she was attracted to my willingness to follow. My sister's told me all about the different houses at her school, and if Flora was gifted with the power of magic, she would undoubtedly be a cunning Slytherin. I don't think I belong in any house. In fact, I reallydon't- I'm a Squib, and a little bitter about that fact, too.
She rung me only ten minutes ago to tell me about the party we've been invited to. It's being thrown by the one and only Harrison Flynn from the year above me at school. He came round my house yesterday, and I know this sounds really pathetic, but it truly was exciting! Flora was utterly jealous. He was only fixing our computer as he's a bit of a whizz at that sort of thing, but I still took the opportunity to loiter about the doorway and watch him. To be honest, I don't think he even noticed I was there, but it was still rather enjoyable to watch him do his thing, admiring his scruffy brown hair from afar. He never quite finished so he's coming back one of these days to finish up, and quite frankly I cannot wait.
Don't judge.
Unfortunately, I never got the chance to tell Flora whether I could go or not, as my crappy mobile died on me. Seriously, that thing is about a hundred years old and Mum still won't let me get a new one.
I really doubt I'll actually be given permission to go anyway, seeing as the police turned up at Flora's wild party a few months ago and well, let's just say Mum wasn't too impressed. I bet Flora will help me sneak out though. I mean, this is Harrison Flynn we're talking about.
But I digress. The only thing about me that is remotely magical is the fact that I own a pet Kneazle, Mercury, and even he legally belongs to my brother, or so the license states. He took a liking to me as soon as Danny brought him home five years ago, much to the surprise of my family (honestly, I know they mean well, but why shouldn'ta magical creature like me, just because I don't possess super powers like they do? Okay, so he isn't exactly affectionate to my Muggle friends, but that's not the point).
In fact, the little black and white devil is sleeping soundly on my lap as I speak, and is the reason I cannot get up to fetch my Fizzing Whizzbees. My laziness has nothing to do with it, I assure you.
"Adelaide? Can you come down here please?" I hear Mum call from downstairs.
Oh, shit. What have I done now? She couldn't possibly have found out about the party already, could she? Oh dear. I'm in deep doo doo.
Unless... Harrison might be here and mum wants me to make him feel at home! Oh god. Shoving Mercury off my legs, I dart into the bathroom and check my appearance in the mirror. Apart from a bit of toothpaste lurking on the side of my mouth, which I hastily rub off, I look alright. Well, as alright as a girl with an ugly dent on her forehead can look, but that's a tale for another day.
"Adelaide!"
One thing I've learnt during my fifteen years of existence is that one must not keep mother waiting. Although a typically sweet and harmless soul, she can be pretty feisty when she wants to be. I bolt down the stairs and into the living room where my mum is perched on a spotless white recliner and gestures to the matching armchair opposite her.
No boy waiting for me to keep him company, then. I quickly sit down and brace myself for the worst.
"So, Adds," she begins. Phew! I'm gonna be okay. When I'm in trouble she usually yells "ADELAIDE NAOMI BEST!" at the top of her lungs in that terrifying roar that only mothers can achieve. But she used her nickname for me; everything's going to be okay.
"I've just got off the phone with Fleur," she says casually.
"Who?"
"You know, Fleur Weasley, my old school friend."
"Oh.Her." She's this French woman Mum is almost constantly glued to the phone jabbering away to.
"Well, you know how I'm going away for a few weeks on this business trip?"
I nodded warily.
"While I'm gone, Fleur's invited you to go to France for the summer, to stay with the Weasleys!" Mum announces, grinning at me like a mad woman.
Wow. Er, that's definitely not what I was expecting to hear.
"What!"
"Isn't it exciting?"
Oh yeah, being shipped off to stay with my mum's old friend and her family who I haven't seen for donkey's years is making me wet myself with anticipation.
"No! I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here."
Mum frowned. "Nonsense. Don't you miss the Weasley children? You were all so close when you were younger."
I definitely do not miss those kids, for the following well thought-out reasons.
REASONS WHY I DO NOT MISS THE WEASLEY KIDS:
1.) The eldest Weasley child, Victory or whatever, never liked me the second she set eyes on me for reasons I cannot fathom. I bet it's because I'm a Squib. When I stayed with them once when I was little (the sole time I've ever been to France, thank God), she refused to play with Dominique and I as apparently she was too cool to hang with us 'babies'. Socondescending. Not to mention she was stunning even at the age of twelve; no doubt she is now a famous French supermodel who will be eager to pummel the tiny amount of self-esteem I possess until there is nothing left. Not that that's a very good reason to not miss someone, but whatever.
2.) Dominique, the middle child, and I got along just fine until one day, mid-summer, she decided she was also too cool to play dollies with little old me, and went off to join her sister in dull adult conversations about French politics and other dreary topics. She's only a couple of years older than me, for goodness' sake! Ugh, she was a mini-Victory in the making. I did not appreciate being ditched like that. Unfortunately, it has happened to me far more often in life than I would like to admit.
3.) And that brings me to my third and final point: Louis. The little brother was left to entertain me and so I spent the remaining summer days watching my dolly get run over by various large plastic vehicles. That boy is a psychopath, I'm telling you. Poor Miss Molly didn't know what was coming to her. Eventually I got bored of watching her being murdered repeatedly, so I snatched her back and attempted to evacuate the premises – not before Louis managed to throw a red fire truck at my face in anger and betrayal, though, leaving an indent on my skin slightly above my left eyebrow. The idiot could've had my eye out. The 'tale for another day' thing I was going on about earlier? Yeah, that's it. The evidence remains still to this day, much to the dismay of my self-conscious teenage self.
Basically, the whole family is snobby, pretentious and violent and I would rather die a slow and painful death than spend four whole weeks of my life with them.
"Mum, you know we didn't exactly hit it off last time we met. I'm not going!"
"Adelaide," Mum says warningly, hands on hips and all.
This is my last chance. If this doesn't work, I don't know what will.
"Please, Mummy," I say quietly, widening my blue eyes and batting my lashes. "I'd much rather stay home with you."
Mum sighs. "Love, you know that's not an option. This trip could do wonders for my job."
Mum's a reporter for this newspaper called The Daily Prophet. She writes about all sorts of affairs that go on in the Wizarding World. I don't really keep up with their news, mostly because I've never heard of half the people or places that are featured. I am quite interested in the goings on of that Harry Potter bloke though, I mean he has got that hot fighter look about him in all the pictures I've seen. Apparently there was some recent break-in a large-scale bank in Egypt and mum's going to cover it.
"But mum, Flora's fine with me staying over at her house while you're on your trip thingy. We've already made plans to go out and everything. I can't bail on her now!" I wail.
"Flora Nicholson? I thought I told you to stop hanging around her. She's a terrible influence on you," comes her stern reply.
"Oh, come on. She gave up smoking ages ago, there's nothing to worry about," I try to reason. It's not like I even tried a ciggy; I'm not that stupid. But Mum doesn't look convinced.
She raises her eyebrows and looks at me in disbelief. "You'd seriously pass up an offer to spend a month in France, just to hang out with some friend?"
I nod enthusiastically.
"I'm sorry, Adds, but I can't let you miss out on an opportunity like this, to experience the culture and pick up on the language. You are going, and you will thank me for it later," she says curtly before striding out of the room.
Yeah, fat chance.
Stupid mothers always think they know best. She may adore France, but Ido not. Just because she went to school there, I have to love it too and embrace my French heritage. Isn't taking it as a subject at school enough? Anyway, I've seen it all on TV; it's full of a load of people wearing berets and showing off their silly moustaches and prancing around whilst nibbling on a baguette. I don't even like bread.
"I'm not going, and there is nothing you can do to make me!" I declare once and for all before storming up the staircase and into my bedroom, making sure to slam the door extra hard behind me to enforce my point.
I put on my iPod and blast out angsty music for a good half hour while cuddling Mercury before mum knocks lightly on my door and lets herself in.
"Hi, sweetie," she says gently, perching on my desk. If she moves an inch to the right she will knock over my bottle of metallic blue nail varnish. I may scream if she wastes that pot (it's my favourite). "I've decided – if you go on this trip to France and be on your best behaviour for Fleur, I'll get you a new mobile."
Is she serious? Her expression is dead set; she knows that this is an offer I'd have to be completely bonkers to pass up. I look down at my poor excuse for a phone lying on my bedside table.
I stare at Mum blankly for a few seconds before standing up to shake her hand and proclaiming, "Deal." She beams and envelopes me in a squishy hug.
I guess I'm going to the Land of Moustaches and Baguettes after all.
A/N: Hey! Welcome to my new story! Of course, the title is French for 'enchanted'. This stubborn plot bunny has refused to leave my mind for half a yearnow, so here we are. It's my first attempt at writing in first person- I hope it comes across aright. Hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear what you think of Adelaide and the story so far.