It Matters Where You Go
Chapter 1 August - Beatrice
A rather extravagant and unusual house sat at the top of a hill just outside Chudleigh. It had sweeping lawns, ancient trees, even a small window on the upper floor through which passers by would swear they had seen birds swooping. But that was all they would see, they rarely, if ever, caught a glimpse of the residents... Most often it was the daughter playing outside, a plump, fair haired child, who, in the opinion of the villagers, spent far too much time up the trees for a child of a respectable family. Not to mention there was never any sign of the parents. Yes, it was agreed that the family that lived in Shortedge House were far from normal, but it seemed as if their money paid for everything, from the restoration of the church they never attended, to the refurbishment of the school their child didn't attend, so the villagers left the family from their prying. If anybody could afford to be left alone, it was the Feeneys.
"Really, Daddy, it should have arrived by now,"
A girl sat at the breakfast table, her elbows rested on the table, and she cradled her chin in her hands. She was around 11 years old, with neat blonde curls and a rather round face, as well as sparkling blue eyes. She wore pyjamas, pink checked trousers and a plain pink long-sleeved top. Across the polished wooden table sat the man who was presumably her father, he was a plump man with a pleasant face, rather balding and with a moustache that didn't exactly suit him, but didn't distract the eye either. He drew a long, thin stick from the pocket of his black pinstriped robes and tapped his teacup, it rattled gently in its saucer as the spoon suddenly came to life, stirring it as the milk poured itself into the brown liquid that was appearing inside, the little girl watched, fascinated.
"Now Beatrice, be patient," His voice was stern, but his grey eyes sparkled as he spoke, "We haven't yet had the post for this morning, now, eat up."
As he spoke, a small creature with large ears, a wrinkled face and what appeared to be a crisp bedsheet wrapped around it appeared by the table. It was a house elf. She bowed extravagantly and presented a plate of toast and jam to Beatrice, the girl thanked the elf who smiled in return, "Most welcome, Mistress Feeney."
"Thank you Velda," The man nodded approvingly as he received his own toast and eggs, "Has the post arrived yet?"
"Velda believes she glimpsed an owl in the distance as she was coming through."
The house elf barely had a chance to finish the sentence, Beatrice shot from her chair and out of the room, leaving her toast and a hasty 'Please excuse me, Daddy!".
She ran as fast as she could up the stairs, crossing her fingers as the went and whispering under her breath.
The room she entered was large and spacious, with stone walls and wooden floor, and wooden beams across the ceiling, although much of the floor was scattered with feathers and curious grey pellets, rather like hairballs. She ran straight to the window and popped it open, fluttering in the distance was a rather strange flock of birds. As they came closer, it was clear they were owls. They landed on the windowsill, one tawny owl held in its claws a newspaper, "Daddy is downstairs," she told the owl, which stared at her in a manner which, had it not been an owl, might have looked disdainful, and went to sit in the beams.
The second owl she recognised as her mother's owl, Chess, a tall, handsome snowy owl, so named for the black check-like marks across her body. She carried a thick, important looking letter, and she swooped off through the house in search of her mistress.
The third owl clattered its beak importantly, it was a plump little barn owl, and in its talons was a thick, yellowish envelope. She reached out to take it and as she did so, the owl fluttered away. She barely noticed, her hands were shaking as she read the neat, businesslike lettering on the front.
Beatrice Feeney
Shortedge House
Chudleigh
Devon
Without even stopping to open it, she barrelled down the stairs, nearly flattening the house elf in the process.
"Daddy, Daddy it came!" She shrieked, waving the letter at him ecstatically, he beamed back at her, standing up and sweeping her into a hug. "Well done darling, I told you it would arrive sooner or later, shall we open it...?"
–
It was with some trepidation that Beatrice climbed the stairs to her mother's room, almost unconsciously she held her breath as she gently knocked, one could never judge the mood of Mrs Feeney from the other side of a door.
A thin woman with olive skin and dark brown hair, that fell in ringlets to her shoulders, answered the door, "Ah, Beatrice," she said, and smiled, instantly her face lit up and became far more pleasant.
"Mummy, I must show you, my letter arrived, it finally arrived!"
"Oh darling that's wonderful," Mrs Feeney kissed her daughter on the cheek, "Let me see, let me read,", she glanced at the letter, "Oh, Hogwarts, I thought I'd never see..." She didn't finish the thought before changing to a new train of thought, "We must go to Diagon Alley, you'll need a wand, and books and a cauldron, and-"
"Hogwarts robes!" Beatrice grinned gleefully, "Oh, Mummy, could I have an owl too? You and Daddy have owls, and I simply must have an owl to write home."
Beatrice never failed to be awed by Diagon Alley. In every way it contrasted everything she knew in her home. Tidy, manicured, constantly attended by house elves, that was the home she knew, Diagon Alley was the opposite. Dirty, muddled, crowded. Full of strange smells and sounds and sights. As they passed through The Leaky Cauldron a moment earlier she saw a burst of green fire under the mantlepiece as a couple and their son arrived by Floo powder and she had turned to look. Her mother had sniffed at that, for they had arrived by apparition. 'Far better than dirtying ourselves with ashes' she had told Beatrice. The family did seem rather ash-smeared as they brushed themselves off.
The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley refreshed the little bubble of excitement that had been threatening to burst inside Beatrice since she first saw her acceptance letter. She was really going to Hogwarts!
Their first stop was Madam Malkin's. Beatrice could see from the moment she stepped in this would be pure torture. Madam Malkin bustled out from behind the door to the rear of the shop, and smiled, "My goodness, young Miss Feeney, it can't be your turn already!" She beamed, "Come on dear, step up on this stool, and we'll get you measured,". Beatrice gave her a forced smile as she stepped up.
Imagine, Beatrice thought to herself crossly, as she was stretched and measured and poked, making children stand so still when there is so much to do.
She gazed out the window as the robes were measured and Madam Malkin began making adjustments. The older witch chatted absent-mindedly, although Beatrice mostly ignored her. She could see older students grouping, marching from shop-to-shop buying their supplies, she could see children younger than her dragging their parents to look at broomsticks and owls, she even saw some nervously waving wands in the window of Ollivander's, first-years, surely.
"Beatrice, are you even listening?"
Her mother's sharp tone brought her back from her observations.
"Sorry, Mummy," She apologised quickly, Madam Malkin was kneeling by her ankles, adjusting the hem of her robes. She glanced up and repeated what had clearly been her question.
"Are you looking forward to going to Hogwarts?"
"Oh yes," Beatrice gushed earnestly, "I've been looking forward to it since... forever! Daddy has always loved to show me magic, and as soon as I knew I could do it too I've been waiting for my letter to come, Daddy has told me everything, about the feasts and the Sorting, and the Forbidden forest, and-"
"Don't forget your lessons too, my dear," Madam Malkin chuckled, "Sorting eh? Which House do you think you'll be in?"
Beatrice opened her mouth to answer, but her mother cut in sharply, "Beatrice will be in Ravenclaw," She sniffed, "Feeneys are a long line of Ravenclaws, and the Druants on my side, it's what's expected of her."
Madam Malkin's smile faltered momentarily, before she smiled and nodded, "Oh, yes, it often runs in families, I was a Hufflepuff myself, clearly not as bright as the Ravenclaws," She tittered, "Oh, I remember in my second year, I met a Ravenclaw boy, Jacob, and he used to tell me that old Professer Kettleburn was keeping..."
Beatrice had stopped listening, she was thinking about the Sorting... would her mother really be so terribly cross if she was placed in the wrong house? What if she was a Hufflepuff, like Madam Malkin...? Or worse, her knees nearly trembled at the thought, what if she were a Slytherin?
She imagined her parents turning up at school to take her away, her mother tutting and shaking her head in shame at her daughter not being a Ravenclaw... her father's sparkling eyes sad and disappointed. No, she made up her mind, she would argue with the hat and force it to put her in Ravenclaw.
"And that's you done, dear"
Madam Malkin waved her wand, and the newly fitted robes swept off Beatrice's body and folded themselves neatly in a box, Beatrice jumped down thankfully, eager to head on to the next shop.
"Come on Mummy," she urged, "Let's go to the bookshop next, or the apothecary..."
Eventually, her mother paid, and Beatrice charged ahead. They entered the bookshop, Flourish & Blotts, where Beatrice excitedly flipped through spellbooks, muttering the incantations under her breath as her mother sought out and paid for her new books.
Next to the apothecary, where Beatrice poked at the glittering beetles eyes, and peered in all the jars, wondering what each of them was, and what they did.
And so it went on, they bought scales and a cauldron, dragon hide gloves and sensible shoes, then into Ollivander's, where her usual excitement melted away into quiet nervousness, the handsome young Ollivander, taking over from his father before him, guided her through the rows, searching out the perfect wand for her. 'Maple and dragon-heartstring, eleven and a quarter inches, pleasantly springy' he had said, with a charming smile and an air of great satisfaction 'An excellent wand for Transfiguration,".
Finally, with all other items bought, "Now, Mummy," Beatrice begged, "Please may I get an owl,". Her mother looked tired, and rather irritated by the children charging up and down the street.
"Of course darling," She sighed, "So long as you're quick about choosing,"
Beatrice grabbed her mother's hand and practically dragged her towards Eeylop's Owl Emporium, where the darkened windows felt like they were staring out at her.
They hurried inside, and Beatrice strode the inside, peering in all the cages, wondering to herself which to buy.
Perhaps a snowy owl, like Mummy's... or a barn owl, that's what delivered my Hogwarts letter, after all... suddenly, one particular bird caught her eye.
"Oh Mummy, look at this one!" She called to her weary looking mother. The bird was large, round and grey, with a greyish-white, dish-shaped face and rather prominent ears, when it blinked, its eyelids were pink.
Behind her she heard a snigger, she spun around to see a boy about her own age, with dark eyes and dark hair, across the shop. He held in a small cage, the tiny grey scops owl he had just purchased, which twittered and ruffled its feathers. The boy saw her looking and, without any hint of pretense that he had been laughing at her, turned and walked out of the shop.
It took rather a lot of cajoling, convincing and begging. Beatrice's mother did not seem certain about the large, imposing bird with the long, curved talons and cruel beak, but eventually, she relented, and Beatrice proudly carried the owl out of the shop.
"Is that everything now Beatrice?" She asked, rather stiffly, as if daring her to say no. When Beatrice nodded her head, she indicated for her to hold her arm, as, with a crack like a whip, the mother and daughter, the shopping and the owl disappeared into thin air.
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Wow, can't believe I've finally written the first chapter of IMWYG! That did not take me half as long to write as I thought it would!
This introduces Beatrice, who, I'll grant you, is a bit of a boring brat, which will become more evident later, especially Chapter 3 (if all goes as planned) of course, next chapter I introduce the other main character, I won't give the game away too much.
I'm intending to mostly follow Beatrice and the as yet unnamed (to you) second character through school, although I may skip a few years, because quite frankly I am not JKR and I do not think I have the motivation to write seven whole years into a story, but, you never know, maybe I'll be motivated.
Um... there'll be a lot of contrast between this chapter and the next one. I hate Diagon Alley chapters because there's always so few characters in the beginning of a story, especially with a very uptight mother. Madam Malkin was a Godsend because I want to have some interactions!
The next few chapters may be rather slow-going, as I am in the middle of my dissertation.