Dear Annalise,
I paused, sucking on the end of my pen. How to write this...
Hey! How are you? I've got some really good news - I finally got accepted to my parents' old school! Maybe I'm weird, to be happy about a school, but I am. It's a boarding school, you know, and Carson, Alicia and Gwyneth already go there. It's a really great school, too - they've got a wicked sports program, the best grounds in the world and lots of really cool activities on all year. I'm a bit worried, though -
Hmm. Now this was going to be tricky. Annalise, even though she is my best friend, is still a Muggle... this was going to actually require me to think, dammit.
I'm a bit worried, though - you see, to sort you into your houses, they make you take all these personality tests and various kinds of rubbish. Of course, I'm expected to get into Alicia and Gwyneth's house, Gr -
Oops. How to weasel out of that one?
Grayson. Everyone in our family's been deemed "worthy" (Mum's words, not mine) to be in Grayson, except for Carson. He got into Hummard, which, although it's a good house and stuff, just wasn't good enough for Mum and Dad. It's been five years since he first started and they still barely speak to him. I almost hope that I'm in Hummard, too, because at least then he'd be cut some slack, but I really want to be in Grayson. Anyway, I thought you might like to know. As it's a boarding school, I won't see you again until maybe Christmas, or if I have to stay, until maybe next year, which will be sad. But I promise I'll write!
Well, bye! I have to go and get all my school stuff. And yes, the day before school is leaving it a bit late... When you get this, I'll be at boarding school!
Love, Pru.
I signed the letter with a flourish. There. I think I've covered everything...
"Prudence!" Mum called from down the stairs.
"Yeah?" I yelled back, sealing the letter with a sticker.
"It's time to go to Diagon Alley! Are you ready?" Mum called back again.
"Uh... almost!" I said quickly. Well, it was almost the truth. After all, I was wearing clothes... of sorts...
"Well, when you are, just tell Carson and Gwyneth. They'll take you." I stopped my frantic search for clothes. What?
"Why Carson and Gwyneth? Where are you and Dad going to be?" I asked, sticking my head out over the stairwell. Mum was standing by the coffee table, doing a few, last minute spells to her hair.
"Alicia has to get her new Quidditch things, now doesn't she? Your father and I are going to be taking her to the Quidditch Supply Shop in Hogsmeade," she said calmly, as if it was nothing.
"But - couldn't she get that when she gets back to school?" I asked. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't they come with me? Mum sighed, exasperated.
"Listen, sweetie, we've talked about this time and time again. Alicia has a special talent, and we have to support her, now don't we?" she said, in an almost contemptuous tone of voice. As if what she was saying made perfect sense.
"I understand, Mum," I said sulkily. I went back into my room. I would have slammed the door, but Mum would have killed me. Then she would have started out on the whole 'Alicia wouldn't do this to us, why are you?' spiel.
I hate Alicia. Or I would, if she wasn't so damned nice to me. Alicia is the quintessential older sister. She's six years older than I am - she'll be in seventh year this year, while I'm only starting. She's a Quidditch star, on the house team and all that. She's pretty, she's popular and she's great at schoolwork. My parents love her. It's always Alicia this, or Alicia that. So you can understand why I'd hate her. If she wasn't a true big sister. You know, a movie big sister. One you can talk to anytime, who'll always defend you, or stick up for you, or give you a hug when you're feeling down. She's so cliched it almost makes me sick.
Then there's Gwyneth. She's 13, and also a Gryffindor. She's not a sports star, like Alicia, nor is she really smart, but she makes up for it. She's immensely popular. She's always being owled, and ever since she started school she's been out all the time. Never in all my life have I met someone as obsessed about their looks as Gwyneth.
Finally, there's Carson. He's my favourite brother, actually. Maybe it's because he's a Hufflepuff. They've got a reputation for being kind. Or maybe it's just that no one else likes him anymore. Whatever it is, he's always got time for me. Mum and Dad have never forgiven him for being Sorted into Hufflepuff - for four whole years they've been barely civil to him when he's at home, they send him the smallest presents when he's at school, they never let him do anything or go anywhere. At first, we thought they'd forget about it after a while - but he's going into fifth year and they've only gotten worse. Talk about unforgiving...
"Car-son!" I hollered, pulling my hair back quickly. "I'm ready to go!"
"What?" a sleepy voice said, floating down from the loft.
"To Diagon Alley. To get my books, my robes, my wand... Remember?" I said. Oh please, say he's coming...
"Can't go," Carson yawned, sticking his head out over the railings. "Homework."
"Can't you do it tomorrow? Why can't you do it tomorrow? You'll have all day on the train. You've got to come with me, I can't go around with only *Gwyneth*..." I trailed off as Carson shook his head.
"No. Did homework. Just went to bed. Cannot walk. Must slee..." and with that, he plunked his head down on the wooden floor with a loud clunk. I scowled.
"I really hope that hurt you, you know that?" I said loudly, to no avail. Carson was dead to the world. I grimaced as I realised what this meant. I was going to have to go around Diagon Alley with *Gwyneth*. Oh no...
"Gwyneth!" I yelled, really annoyed now. "We have to go!"
"You're right!" Gwyneth squealed as she pushed past me in a cloud of perfume and nearly running me down. "I've got a date in ten minutes!"
"No you don't," I said, feeling a headache coming on. "You have to take me to Diagon Alley."
She stopped, turning towards me, a look of complete confusion on her perfectly made up face. "Why would I do that?" she asked cluelessly. "Gotta go. Bye!" And with that, she chucked a handful of Floo Powder onto the fire, yelled out "Sam's house!" and was gone.
I stood in the kitchen for a moment, totally stunned. "Mum!" I yelled, running towards the garage as quickly as I could. "You have to take me to - " I stopped, and stood there hopelessly as our car roared off into the distance. So now I had to go on my own.
It's little things you notice at times like this. Like for example, all I could think of at the moment was that my mum had left behind a *very* full bag of galleons. And I'll be damned if I wasn't going to spend every last one of them just to spite her.
A/N: Okay, so maybe that was written fairly awkwardly, and more than a little confusing. But things will get clearer, I promise! In case you didn't figure it out, the girl narrating is Pru, who (so says me) is Alicia Spinnet's little sister. She's a fairly cynical little girlie, isn't she? People are more interesting that way, I think. Then again, my friends and I are compared to Daria, so maybe I'm in no position to talk.
Disclaimer: I own nothin' and nobody, except for Gwyneth, Carson and Pru. And maybe Mr and Mrs Spinnet, but then again they must've already existed, mustn't they? So maybe I don't own them. Or maybe I do. Aargh, I'm confusing myself again!!!
I paused, sucking on the end of my pen. How to write this...
Hey! How are you? I've got some really good news - I finally got accepted to my parents' old school! Maybe I'm weird, to be happy about a school, but I am. It's a boarding school, you know, and Carson, Alicia and Gwyneth already go there. It's a really great school, too - they've got a wicked sports program, the best grounds in the world and lots of really cool activities on all year. I'm a bit worried, though -
Hmm. Now this was going to be tricky. Annalise, even though she is my best friend, is still a Muggle... this was going to actually require me to think, dammit.
I'm a bit worried, though - you see, to sort you into your houses, they make you take all these personality tests and various kinds of rubbish. Of course, I'm expected to get into Alicia and Gwyneth's house, Gr -
Oops. How to weasel out of that one?
Grayson. Everyone in our family's been deemed "worthy" (Mum's words, not mine) to be in Grayson, except for Carson. He got into Hummard, which, although it's a good house and stuff, just wasn't good enough for Mum and Dad. It's been five years since he first started and they still barely speak to him. I almost hope that I'm in Hummard, too, because at least then he'd be cut some slack, but I really want to be in Grayson. Anyway, I thought you might like to know. As it's a boarding school, I won't see you again until maybe Christmas, or if I have to stay, until maybe next year, which will be sad. But I promise I'll write!
Well, bye! I have to go and get all my school stuff. And yes, the day before school is leaving it a bit late... When you get this, I'll be at boarding school!
Love, Pru.
I signed the letter with a flourish. There. I think I've covered everything...
"Prudence!" Mum called from down the stairs.
"Yeah?" I yelled back, sealing the letter with a sticker.
"It's time to go to Diagon Alley! Are you ready?" Mum called back again.
"Uh... almost!" I said quickly. Well, it was almost the truth. After all, I was wearing clothes... of sorts...
"Well, when you are, just tell Carson and Gwyneth. They'll take you." I stopped my frantic search for clothes. What?
"Why Carson and Gwyneth? Where are you and Dad going to be?" I asked, sticking my head out over the stairwell. Mum was standing by the coffee table, doing a few, last minute spells to her hair.
"Alicia has to get her new Quidditch things, now doesn't she? Your father and I are going to be taking her to the Quidditch Supply Shop in Hogsmeade," she said calmly, as if it was nothing.
"But - couldn't she get that when she gets back to school?" I asked. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't they come with me? Mum sighed, exasperated.
"Listen, sweetie, we've talked about this time and time again. Alicia has a special talent, and we have to support her, now don't we?" she said, in an almost contemptuous tone of voice. As if what she was saying made perfect sense.
"I understand, Mum," I said sulkily. I went back into my room. I would have slammed the door, but Mum would have killed me. Then she would have started out on the whole 'Alicia wouldn't do this to us, why are you?' spiel.
I hate Alicia. Or I would, if she wasn't so damned nice to me. Alicia is the quintessential older sister. She's six years older than I am - she'll be in seventh year this year, while I'm only starting. She's a Quidditch star, on the house team and all that. She's pretty, she's popular and she's great at schoolwork. My parents love her. It's always Alicia this, or Alicia that. So you can understand why I'd hate her. If she wasn't a true big sister. You know, a movie big sister. One you can talk to anytime, who'll always defend you, or stick up for you, or give you a hug when you're feeling down. She's so cliched it almost makes me sick.
Then there's Gwyneth. She's 13, and also a Gryffindor. She's not a sports star, like Alicia, nor is she really smart, but she makes up for it. She's immensely popular. She's always being owled, and ever since she started school she's been out all the time. Never in all my life have I met someone as obsessed about their looks as Gwyneth.
Finally, there's Carson. He's my favourite brother, actually. Maybe it's because he's a Hufflepuff. They've got a reputation for being kind. Or maybe it's just that no one else likes him anymore. Whatever it is, he's always got time for me. Mum and Dad have never forgiven him for being Sorted into Hufflepuff - for four whole years they've been barely civil to him when he's at home, they send him the smallest presents when he's at school, they never let him do anything or go anywhere. At first, we thought they'd forget about it after a while - but he's going into fifth year and they've only gotten worse. Talk about unforgiving...
"Car-son!" I hollered, pulling my hair back quickly. "I'm ready to go!"
"What?" a sleepy voice said, floating down from the loft.
"To Diagon Alley. To get my books, my robes, my wand... Remember?" I said. Oh please, say he's coming...
"Can't go," Carson yawned, sticking his head out over the railings. "Homework."
"Can't you do it tomorrow? Why can't you do it tomorrow? You'll have all day on the train. You've got to come with me, I can't go around with only *Gwyneth*..." I trailed off as Carson shook his head.
"No. Did homework. Just went to bed. Cannot walk. Must slee..." and with that, he plunked his head down on the wooden floor with a loud clunk. I scowled.
"I really hope that hurt you, you know that?" I said loudly, to no avail. Carson was dead to the world. I grimaced as I realised what this meant. I was going to have to go around Diagon Alley with *Gwyneth*. Oh no...
"Gwyneth!" I yelled, really annoyed now. "We have to go!"
"You're right!" Gwyneth squealed as she pushed past me in a cloud of perfume and nearly running me down. "I've got a date in ten minutes!"
"No you don't," I said, feeling a headache coming on. "You have to take me to Diagon Alley."
She stopped, turning towards me, a look of complete confusion on her perfectly made up face. "Why would I do that?" she asked cluelessly. "Gotta go. Bye!" And with that, she chucked a handful of Floo Powder onto the fire, yelled out "Sam's house!" and was gone.
I stood in the kitchen for a moment, totally stunned. "Mum!" I yelled, running towards the garage as quickly as I could. "You have to take me to - " I stopped, and stood there hopelessly as our car roared off into the distance. So now I had to go on my own.
It's little things you notice at times like this. Like for example, all I could think of at the moment was that my mum had left behind a *very* full bag of galleons. And I'll be damned if I wasn't going to spend every last one of them just to spite her.
A/N: Okay, so maybe that was written fairly awkwardly, and more than a little confusing. But things will get clearer, I promise! In case you didn't figure it out, the girl narrating is Pru, who (so says me) is Alicia Spinnet's little sister. She's a fairly cynical little girlie, isn't she? People are more interesting that way, I think. Then again, my friends and I are compared to Daria, so maybe I'm in no position to talk.
Disclaimer: I own nothin' and nobody, except for Gwyneth, Carson and Pru. And maybe Mr and Mrs Spinnet, but then again they must've already existed, mustn't they? So maybe I don't own them. Or maybe I do. Aargh, I'm confusing myself again!!!