A/N: sort of thought of this, like, spur of the moment. Anyways, in this story, THE EPILOGUE DID NOT HAPPEN! The year is 2017, which is the calculated year that Albus should be starting Hogwarts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
"ABBY!"
Crap. My mom again. She's been getting mad at me lately, mostly because I can't get into any good secondary schools that a 'polite young lady' like me should go to. It's not my fault that I'm not smart.
I've actually never been too smart. I don't like to read for one. Yes, that's probably the major reason I'm not smart. I hate reading with a passion. Everyone in my family loves to read except for me. The one person in my family who reads just about 24/7 is Haley. It's like I walk downstairs for breakfast and there she is, curled up on the chair with a book in her hands. She's mostly Harry Potter obsessed. And, when I say obsessed, I mean it. She read the entire series in a week.
How many pages is that, exactly? Like, over two thousand! And these books came out like ten years ago.
And it's weird, too, because she has a life other than reading. She has friends. They're not the coolest people (some of them are sort of weird but she claims that no one in her group of friends like them so it's not her fault they try to hang out with her) but they're her friends.
Haley's only a couple of years older than me, at age fourteen. I'm eleven, in case I haven't said that yet. Anyways, when we were little, we always used to fight. Like, all the time. And then, we just sort of grew out of it I guess. We still fight, but it's not as if it's our daily ritual anymore.
"ABIGAIL PEARSON, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"
And there she goes again. I sighed and made my way downstairs, expecting the worse.
"What is it, Mum?" I asked.
She slammed a piece of paper against the counter, and I stared at it, my eyes wide in shock. It was my report card, coming in the mail at last.
"You got almost all C's!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, I got an A in one subject!" I said defensively.
"Yeah, you got an A in P.E. That doesn't count for anything!"
"But I got a B in math!"
Mum was fuming.
"Oh, my God, Mum," I said. "Honestly, a C is average. It means I'm an average student. It means that I'm just like every other student out there. It's a passing grade! And a B is above average, and so is an A!"
"Yes, but secondary schools aren't looking for average students," said Mum. "They're looking for the best students! No wonder you haven't gotten accepted yet!"
"What, are you calling me dumb?" I asked. "I'm not dumb, Mum, I just don't like school!"
"See? There's your problem! You don't try! You don't want to be there!"
How many times I've had this conversation I can't even begin to count.
Our conversation went along the lines of this for the next ten minutes, and then Dad came home and it continued for another twenty minutes. Once our conversation was finally finished, I had been grounded for a week.
I walked angrily back up to my room and laid down on my bed, exhausted from my fight with my parents.
"Grounded, huh?"
Haley was at the door to my room with, so typical, a book in her hand. Harry Potter 5, of course. She had taken to rereading the books after she finished them. My parents used to get mad about it, because Haley shouldn't be reading the same books over and over and over again, but eventually stopped nagging her about it since she stopped rereading the books in front of them.
"Yes," I mumbled into my pillow. "They're so strict. I mean, seriously, C is average!"
"They just want what's best for you," said Haley.
Just because she gets an A in every single freakin' class she takes…
"Get accepted anywhere yet?" Haley asked. I shook my head no. When she was eleven, she got accepted to the fifth best secondary school, Firestone Academy. And my even older sister, Jenny, got accepted to the eleventh best, Winchester Hills. Despite the fact that Jenny's now sixteen and doesn't try to hard in school so much since she's into the alternative and indie music scene, she still gets all A's and B's.
Our conversation just about ended there. Haley left (to read some more, I expect, and it's summer!) and I moped around the house for a week.
Soon, it was July 5, and I wasn't grounded anymore. I had gotten plenty of rejection letters from the secondary schools I applied for. My parents were not happy with me at all.
My parents took to making me get the mail, since they wanted me to check to see if I got any letters. I usually never did, unless it was another rejection letter.
"You'll get accepted somewhere," said Haley. "Eventually."
Eventually. That was the key word. In a way, I was secretly hoping that I wouldn't get accepted anywhere, and that way I would be able to just drop out of school or go into home schooling. Being home schooled couldn't be that bad. I've even mentioned it to Jenny once.
"Yeah, but that involved a lot of reading," she told me.
I shuddered at the thought. I hate reading.
"Get the mail, Abby," my parents told me during brunch. We heard the mail come in through the slot.
"I'm going, I'm going," I muttered. We usually ended up getting a lot of mail every day. There were all the bills, for one, and then the alternative music magazines that Jenny had subscribed to, occasional invitations to party's (mostly sweet sixteen's, since Jenny is at that age), etcetera.
I, as usual, was expecting nothing and hoping I was right, too. Another rejection letter meant another long talk with my parents, and an acceptance letter meant having to go to school.
Anyways, I wasn't happy when I saw the envelope with my name on it. I wasn't happy at all.
The envelope was an odd, yellow color, sort of creamy but mostly yellow. And the ink used to write my name and address was an emerald green, written with swirly letters in a cursive writing that I had trouble reading. Even Haley probably would have had trouble reading this, too.
Ms. A. Pearson
Third room to the Left Upstairs
14 Maria Drive
Brigham
Manchester
I stared at the letter curiously. This was getting idiotic. I honestly doubted that this could be an actual letter. Who would pretend to stalk me and then write what room I slept in on a letter? Wouldn't they know I could get a restraining order against them?
Anyways, I walked back into the room with the letter hidden in my jacket. Everyone would think it was weird if they read how the letter was addressed.
My parents didn't say anything when they noticed I wasn't opening any letters. I was glad this way. They weren't going to make any stupid comments on how I should have tried harder in school and stuff.
Anyways, I left brunch early and walked upstairs to my room, where I took out the letter and put it on my desk. I sat down in the chair and just stared at if for a minute.
Finally, I sighed and took it. I flipped it to the side where I would open it. Sealing the envelope was candle wax molded into a crest. There was a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake, with a capital H on top of it. Honestly, it was sort of weird. I'd never even seen anything like that. I don't even think I've seen candle wax used to close letters before. That's something they did a while ago.
And whatever happened to just licking the letter shut?
Anyways, before I opened it, I weighed it in my hand. It seemed a bit heavy, like thick paper was used for the letter, and there was more than one piece.
I finally opened it and took the letter out. I was right; it was on a thick sheet of paper, if you could call it paper. It seemed a bit soft, like fabric, but it was paper as it was written on. It wasn't even typed, it was hand written with a thin pen in the same emerald green ink in the same slanted, swirly writing.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Pearson
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Neville Longbottom
Deputy Headmaster
Haley. That was the only logical explanation, anyways. It was stupid Haley. She was trying to play some stupid joke on me. Well, I'm not falling for it. I'm not retarded like she thinks I am.
Hogwarts. That's a stupid name. Like, hog warts? Do hogs even have warts?
I marched into Haley's room and opened the door without knocking.
"Knock much?" she said sarcastically from her bed. She was, of course, reading.
I pressed my lips together tightly, crumpled up the letter into a ball, and threw it at her.
"What the hell?" she said, looking away from her book at the paper.
"What's wrong with you?" I yelled. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
Haley rolled her eyes as she uncrumpled the letter and read it. She started laughing.
"Well, obviously someone does," she said. "You know what this is, right?"
"Uh, not really," I said. "It's a stupid letter someone sent me, I know that much."
"No," said Haley. "This is a letter to Hogwarts."
"Yeah, I know. Some stupid school with one of my stupid friends trying to fool me."
"No, Hogwarts is the school in Harry Potter."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "And I'm supposed to think that this isn't you?"
She held up her hands in defense. "Hey, I'm Harry Potter obsessed, I admit it, but I wouldn't be stupid enough to send you a fake acceptance letter. It's probably one of your friends or one of the neighbors or something."
I sighed. "You're probably right. I bet its Maria, she just started reading that series."
I texted Maria later that day. Yes, I have a cell phone. My parents believe that I should have one since times aren't as safe as they used to be or whatever. Anyways, I like to text. It's sort of like my addiction, I guess. So I texted Maria.
Too bad Maria's cell is never on, and she never, ever texts back. Stupid Maria.
The same letter arrived the next day, in she same weird envelope that contained the same weird fabric-y paper with the same weird writing.
Jenny had been the one to get the mail. She tossed the letter to me while she gave the rest to our parents besides her magazine, which she opened and read.
I took one look at the letter, groaned, and tossed it aside.
"What is it?" Mum asked. "Another rejection letter?"
"No," I mumbled. "Someone's trying to play a prank on me. They keep on sending me fake acceptance letters to the school from the Harry Potter books."
Haley laughed when she looked at the letter. "You got another one?"
I glared at her as I took the letter and ripped it in two. "Not anymore."
Within the next month, I got a fake letter every single day. Maria had eventually texted me back, three days after I had originally sent the text, saying that she didn't know what I was talking about and why would she be trying to fool me into thinking that I was magical?
I couldn't think of a reply.
Anyways, it was late on a Friday near the end of July. I had my friend Nettie sleeping over. It was raining outside, so we decided to have a campout in my room, using some firehouse tent we found in our garage that I had when I was five.
"Girl, I'm screwed," she said. "Somehow, my parents got me into this top-notch secondary school, like number one or whatever."
Nettie was different than most of my friends, which was why she was my best friend. Her skin was dark, and so was her hair. Her eyes were brown as well. And she had this way of speaking that no one else ever used, so she was totally original. In England, at least. She moved here from America about a year or two ago.
"You'll last," I said. "You're actually smart, remember?"
"Aw, come on," said Nettie. "Are you trying to say that you're dumb or something?"
"Well, I'm not exactly smart."
Nettie rolled her eyes. "Where you going to school this year?"
I laughed. "I haven't been accepted anywhere yet."
Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?" I nodded. "Dude, my parents would flip if I hadn't gotten accepted anywhere! How are your parents taking it?"
"They're not happy, I'll tell you that," I said. "I've been constantly grounded. You're lucky I was able to have you over tonight."
"I wouldn't call this weather luck," said Nettie. There was a streak of light outside my window. "Looks like the lightning's started."
I smirked. "As expected."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door downstairs. Nettie and I froze.
"Who'd be knocking this late?" said Nettie.
"Dunno," I said.
The knock repeated itself, followed by a ring on the doorbell. Nettie and I got out of our tent and walked outside my room. We saw my parents walking downstairs and followed them.
"Dad, what's going on?" I asked.
"I don't know," he said. "We'll figure this out, don't worry."
"Who'd be calling this late?" I heard Haley mutter from the upstairs landing. I looked up to see her looking down at us and smirking. "I've got to see this."
I smiled back. The person knocked on the door again and Dad opened it, Mum right behind him.
"Hello, may I help you?" Dad offered politely. From my angle, I couldn't see who was at the door.
"Yes, you can," said a man's voice, pretty deep but with a soft edge around it. "I'm looking for someone by the name of Abigail Pearson. Is she here?"
Dad looked confused. "Why would you by looking for my daughter?"
"She's on the list to attend Hogwarts," said the man confidently. "May I come in?"
Dad nodded wordlessly and the man entered our house. I got a good look at him and saw that his skin looked sort of rough, tan but with a sharper edge to it. He had a bit of stubble on his face, and I realized that he couldn't be older than his late thirties or early forties. His hair was a dark color and shaggy, and I took an immediate liking to this man, despite how odd he looked.
"What's your name?" Mum asked.
"Neville Longbottom," said the man, and I swear, I could have tackled him.
"So you're the one who's been sending me all these letters!" I said.
"Yes, I have," said Neville. "You hadn't responded yet, and I needed to know if you were going to come to the school or not."
How could he say all of this in such a calm manor, with no laugh or smile on his face at all? He looked totally serious!
"Could I call you Abby?" Neville asked. I nodded. "Okay, then. Abby, do you know what you are?"
I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "Um…human?" I guessed.
Neville laughed at my attempt, and Haley started blindly walking down the stairs, as if in a trance. I had never seen her act this weird.
"Wait," said Haley. Neville looked to her. "So you're…you're Neville Longbottom?"
Neville nodded. "Can I help you with something?"
"No, no," said Haley, shaking her head. "It's just…it's all true, isn't it?"
Neville smiled. "You've read the books."
Haley nodded. "So…am I a witch or something?"
Neville's smile turned into one of deep regret. "I'm sorry," he said. "But it's not you who's the witch. It's your sister, Abby."
Haley's head slowly turned towards me, and I could feel sharp stabs of pain aiming at me. Haley was furious, and she couldn't even say anything.
All the eyes in the room turned on me. Nettie slapped me on the back and said, "Congrats, girl! You've been accepted!"
It was as if I was in a trance for the rest of the night. I only remembered the basics as Neville told my family about how to get to Diagon Alley in London, about the Wizarding laws that stated that Muggles can't know I'm a witch, so everyone in the room was forbidden to tell anyone, etcetera.
Haley was mad, and I knew it. She was really, really mad. I was the one who was going to be living the life that the books described, not her.
Maybe I should have read the series after all…