Hi guys! This is some HP fanfiction that came up on my mind just this moment (August 18, 2016; 8:58 pm). Anyways, this is a reincarnation fic.
Title: Wake Up!
Date: August 18, 2016
Summary: She was just a normal girl—a boring and dull one with an obsession in reading novels. But after set of unfortunate events, she woke up in a different house, with a different body, and a different gender. And bloody hell! Why do a Petunia Dursley look alike in the Harry Potter Series calls her, erm, him—Harry Potter? Bloody hell!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm just a fan, and all of the characters, places, scenes, and others that is in the HP books and movies belongs to the genius author named J.K. Rowling.
Warning: Grammatical and Typographical Error Ahead!
Chapter One: The-Girl-Destined-To-Be
Truth to be told, for the fifteen years of living, Rika Rosalin can count the good things she've done in life and a million bad things she committed.
She was a sinner.
Lying? Easy, that one's like breathing. Being jealous? U-huh. Rebelling? That's the spirit!
But, despite being a sinner, she has a good side, a specialty that no one could take away—
And that is pouring her heart on any work related by ink and paper.
Writing.
It all started since second grade, she was seven back then. She has this condition, which name she forgotten as time passed. Whenever she cried hard, her body won't move, she'll stop breathing that can result to suffocation or even worse,
Death.
Many doctors have said it was a defect during her birth because her mother was forty back then.
They said. "She needs a surgery as soon as possible."
Her teachers believed that it was her respiratory system that's damaged.
"Well, she's always sick." They reasoned.
All of the kids in the school was afraid to play with her because their parents told them she has a problem on the heart that anything that would upset her could kill her.
"Go away cry baby, we don't want the likes of you. You're too weak, always crying, and mom says you'll die if you cry. And if you'll die because you cried of losing in a game, they'll put the blame on us." The children would spat, glaring at her.
Well, her parents explained clearly the situation, but everyone knows that a story travels fast and has a huge possibility to be revised without the real narrator.
Anyway, her mother was always there, smiling and taking care of her. Rika knew she loves her. Always asking Rika if she ate already, reminding her to sleep early, and protecting her from bullies. But as the years passed her mother became cold. At the start, it was just simple things like glaring at her. Then it became shouting sessions then a slap.
"You should have died after birth." her mother always says.
That's the time where she started reading anything, and writing.
…Dear Diary,
Mummy slapped me on my cheeks. It hurts. It stings. What did I do to earn that?
…Dear Diary,
She scolded me again, in public…
…Dear Diary,
Hi Diary, I know you're only the friend I can trust.
It was hard. She didn't want to voice out her problems because she don't want to be weak, plus she has no friends. So she sheltered herself in reading Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, Peter Pan, Alice and the Wonderland, and by mercy, encyclopaedias—and many more. She was happy during her usual reading time—because she can be a sorcerer, an evil queen, a fairy, or a world traveller— yes indeed.
The only person in the family that supported Rika was her father. Oh, her father, her sweet, sweet father. He was there when her mother was not. Fetching her to school every day, listening to her rants, lifting her spirits when she's down. Every single school meetings and special events, her father was there.
Only her father.
And Jerry? He was the only playmate she has since she could talk, and she was grateful about that, but then again the boy is a goody two shoes, the perfect son. Always doing good and nothing bad.
"You should do what your younger brother does so we can worry of nothing." her mother always says.
Yes, call this angst, whatever you want, but Rika's just telling the truth.
Writing was her most kept secret, her dirty little secret that knows her emotions. It was a personal and private talent of hers.
Until she was seventh grade, when some tenth grade students dragged her to the journalism room by force.
Not just some normal tenth graders, the top one and top two of the whole tenth graders in school—just because she was a look alike of some Korean child star they know and love.
Well, she suggested they buy some eye glasses, because there's no way that the eyes they possess were not damaged.
Plus, she was not a top student, and hey, the new and former school journalist were expecting her to fail because she was just Rika with no talent.
But after passing her very first article, the journalist teacher praised her—she was a gem in writing they say. Of course, the praises made Rika happy and more enthusiastic in creating articles. She practiced writing as often as she can. For the first year on The Voice's Ink, their school newspaper, she became a feature writer with one article on the newspaper. She kept reading and reading any useful material to learn. The next year, she published nine articles in their school publicly as a science and technology writer, winning two a contest that year. Third year, she became the youngest Editor-in-Chief to get the position, qualified into a regional contest, won a journalistic contest, and became one of the most skilled junior high school essayist by winning many competition as the champion.
And even though many parent thinks that she was unworthy of such position, she ignored them, because every article she made was her own work. She enhanced her skill, reading and writing when she can, because every contest she won was a result of self-reviewing, all because no one dared to help her except maybe her family.
They don't know how hard to have a week or months of sleepless nights committed to create, revise, and edit articles. They don't know how hard to achieve victory because they are just watching.
But it was worthwhile. The bullying stopped. They started to respect or ignore her sickly condition. The cry baby Rika was long forgotten, it was replaced by student writer Rika.
She don't asked her parents for new gadgets or outfit. She wouldn't spent her money for make-up or girly things. She do not interrupt her parents because of a party an she wants to go. No. All she asks is to let her read and buy books from her allowance, let her write, type on her laptop, and even a ratty clothes would be enough.
Even now, as a tenth grader, she was still the Editor-In-Chief, but still, her whole life was the same.
"Hey sis," Jerry called. "it's already dinner."
Rika was rereading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. "Okay, I'll just finish this one." she said, putting the book on her table. She always love to read during night times. It was always her goal to read at least two novels a month. At least, because with all her work in school in journalism, covering all school events and trying to pass tenth grade—she was too busy to even read a single chapter like the old times.
Aside from that, she received the letter, and carried a good news. Grabbing the brown envelope containing her maybe, big chance, Rika put the envelope to her jean's pocket and smiled brightly.
Rika immediately went to the dining room, grabbed a plate and filled it with spaghetti, took a small bowl of soup, then snatched a glass of water while sitting between her father and brother. She ate silently, ignoring her mother.
"Rika." her father said softly. He was old, nearing seventy, with wrinkles prominent in his face.
"Yes Papa?" Rika asked. It was her habit to call him 'Papa'. It was an endearment.
"How's schooling?"
"Tiring, I revised some articles, then went into the library for a group project. Sorry if I got late Papa…"
"No Ric, it's okay, no harm done. I know you're busy with all the student work in school." he replied, ruffling her daughter's hair. Rika chuckled. "And, could you accompany me tomorrow at the park, let's jog, father and daughter bonding, then let's eat at Liza's diner." He whispered to her ear. Rika nodded cheerfully.
"I'll tell you a good, good news too Papa, after dinner." Rika whispered back.
"Rika," Jerry started, gaining the attention of his sister. "Can you help me with an assignment?"
Rika frowned. "Uh, nuh, sorry J, can't do. I have to chill a bit, too much work after dismissal." She smiled tiredly.
Her younger brother bowed his head.
"But you can check my notes last, last, year. I'm sure I have notes there to help you brother."
"Thanks!" Jerry beamed. "You're the best sis!" then dashed towards your room.
Rika only smiled.
For the first time in the meal, she looked at her mother, who was scowling at her. Rika sighed. Since she got the position as an Editor-In-Chief, her mother stopped reprimanding her about things. Sometimes she would praise her whenever she won a contest or got a high score on a test. Usually though, whenever her mother saw something she didn't like at Rika, she would talk to her with a hidden meanings, which she usually understands which make Rika angrier.
Oral scolding is more bearable than her mother's new tactic.
She finished her meal not long after that. She stood up and was about to pull out the brown envelope to her jeans when someone touched her wrists.
"Rika," it was her mother. "We need to talk."
Rika nodded stiffly.
"Maybe I should go to our room dear and start my take home inventory in the shop." Mr Rosalin said to his wife.
"Go on then, I'll follow you shortly." Mrs Rosalin replied.
After that, Rika's father went upstairs.
"Rika," her mother started. "I think you should quit."
"Quit what?"
"Journalism."
Rika's eye widened.
"I'll never repeat what I said. Quit journalism?"
No… no. This can't be happening.
"You're joking, right?"
"No I'm not."
Oh yes she's not. Mrs Alicia Rosalin, wife to Mr Robert Rosalin, who has two children—Rika and Jerry—was not a woman of humor.
"Please tell me you're joking." Rika pleaded.
"No."
"…Why?" she asked, voice broken.
"It's taking a toll on your grades."
"No, it's not! It's still the same! Eighty-five eighty-six eighty-eight ninety-plus even. I'm doing my best!"
"No you're not."
"Yes I do!"
Mrs Rosalin sighed. "Can't you see? You can't even tutor your brother this days. Years ago, you do… but now? Not even the slightest. And you used to be on the top ten, five even. You used to be the third ranker on your school. Because of that stupid extracurricular you call jo—"
"Don't you dare call that stupid!" Rika shouted.
Mrs Rosalin glared at her. "You even raised your voice because of that worth—"
"It's not worthless!"
"Yes. It. Is." her mother sneered.
Rika could feel the tears threatening to fall. No, it can't be, her mother wouldn't. She couldn't quit. She worked hard to earn that position. It was… it was what saved her from being alone. Writing. Letting every work of her be known, even just for a few individuals. It was her only true possession. It saved her from being an emotional wrecked. It saved her from the darkness of problems.
Writing let her cope with her life.
It was the road of her emotions.
"If you can win any competition, surely, you can snatch the valedictorian position of that Smith brat. If you quit, you can do that, and tutor your brother to raise his grades." her mother said.
"That's unfair…" Rika said lowly. "Jerry's an athlete, and your letting him keep it while I don't?" the tears finally fell on her face. "Why?"
"He's responsible. He helps me, and he's your younger bro—"
"YOUNGER BROTHER! YES HE IS! YEAH DAMN STRAIGHT HE'S THE PERFECT SON JERRY WHO CAN'T DO ANY THING BAD! WHILE ME I'M THE IRRESPONSIBLE SICKLY RIKA WHO ALWAYS SCREW EVERYTHING!" Rika shouted, voice louder than ever as tears continues to fall freely. "CAN YOU GIVE ME JUST AN OUNCE OF HAPPINESS?! MOTHER KNOWS BEST! HECK, TO HELL FOR THE POOR EXCUSE OF A HUMAN WHO MADE THAT SAYING! IT WAS ALWAYS PAPA WHO'S ON MY SIDE SUPPORTING ME! YOU SUCK AT BEING A MOTHER!"
A slap was heard.
Mrs Rosalin glared. "I'm your mother, you respect me."
Rika laughed, body shaking and tembling at stress. "Do you know how painful it is to me when you boast about Jerry while degrading me?" she whispered. "No… you don't. I… just please, just let me finish my term for journalism this year. I promise I'll make it to the nationals."
"No you won't. You failed to qualify last year for the nationals. And it's time you mature on your studies. You'll be a doctor and that's final." That made Rika cry more.
"I don't want to. I want to be a journalist."
"I am the one to decide that! I am the one who will pay your college tuition young lady! Quit that blasted extracurricular or it's your future that would be blasted!" Mrs Rosalin scolded.
"Maybe yes, maybe no…" Rika whispered.
"….What?" her mother asked, confusion not hidden in her face.
Rika finally pulled out the brown envelope from her pockets and gave it to Mrs Rosalin. She opened it and started to read its contents.
"A school offered me a scholarship for journalism, I just have to switch schools when I graduate junior high and become a senior high. That's full grant, good for until I finish college. There's a dormitory there… I… I… just have to graduate junior high. I accepted the offer. I wanted to call Papa and J after you finished eating, but I guess there's bad blood between us… right? You know? I'm just going to Jessica for the night. Don't worry… graduation's just three months from now on. I just want to be anywhere but here." With that Rika wiped her face from tears and walked out of the house.
Too bad she didn't see her mother's pale and horrified face, just looking at the letter she held.
Rika was walking on the sidewalk. Her head was down as she trembled. It was cold dammit, and she forgot to bring a jacket.
Her mother… knew how hard she worked for everything she has now. Why can't she see it? Rika laughed bitterly. At least she'll be off to a school for a good six years and her mother won't see her anymore. Maybe that, this… maybe this is all for the better. Leaving. Anywhere but here.
What Rika didn't was that she crossed a pedestrian lane as a car speed towards her. Before she could truly look at the car, all she saw was light. Her body flew a few feet away, bones broken and mouth coughing blood… and then darkness.
Author's note: Sorry for the crappy first chapter. Second chapter is the real start. Just wait for the update! Review! Favorite! Follow!
Till next time!
(08/19/2016)