An alarm clock rang in her ear, and Alison groaned loudly. With a violent motion she knocked it to the floor, and struggled to her feet.

She blinked twice, and looked around her familiar room. It was plain, cluttered with clothing and books heaped all over the floor. She tiredly approached her mirror and began attempting to brush her thick, wildly tangled, and finding that, as usual, it was hopeless. Before she'd even got a quarter of the way around her head, the brush broke. She scowled at it miserably. "That's the third one this week! Mom's gonna be mad," she said out loud.

"Your mother's used to it, dearie," her mirror responded. Due to her absent-minded habit of giving every object she met a name, she called her mirror Ralph.

"What would you know? You're a mirror," she sniffed.

"I'm so glad you noticed," Ralph answered kindly. "And I happen to know quite a bit. For instance, you have pen on your forehead."

"I don't care."

"Yes, you do. You wish you could get rid of your appearance to everyone, your family included, of being a clumsy, disorganized slob. With pen on your forehead, you look like a clumsy, disorganized slob, and therefore you care. In fact you care quite a lot about your appearance - your freckles, the state your hair is always in, your bony body, your long feet, not to mention the half a brush sticking out of the back of your head right now,"

Alison scowled even harder, and yanked what was left of her brush out of her hair vehemently. She chucked it at Ralph as hard as she could before turning him on his stand so he faced the wall. His muffled gasps and exclamations echoed around the room while she got dressed.

When Alison got downstairs, she found the rest of her family was already up, and had been for some time. Everyone was cheerful and excited - even Alison's baby brother, Parker, was cooing happily. For a moment she wondered vaguely why they were al in such high spirits, before she remembered with a start. It's September 1st, she thought. Today they all get on the train for Hogwarts, and they can't wait.

For her older brother, Robbie, this would be his last year. Alison's parents were so proud of everything he had done Alison thought they were likely to burst when he graduated. Her older sister, Tess, was 15, and was the most popular girl in her year. Heather would be going to Hogwarts for the first time today. Molly, only six, was too young to go yet, as was Parker, but she had already shown every sign that she was a promising witch, and would be accepted without a doubt.

"Are you going to try out for the Quidditch team this year, Robbie?" crooned Molly. Alison knew instantly this was the wrong question to ask. Robbie's happy mood vanished in an instant.

"What's the point?" he growled. "I won't get on, again. That stupid Potter - " Alison's mother jumped in.

"Don't be so angry. And I would not be calling Harry Potter stupid, considering that it's thanks to him you even have a Hogwarts to go to."

"That's the reason he even got on the team, I'm sure. They wanted to reward him. As if wasn't already the most glorified kid in the school, or in the world, they make him the youngest seeker in a century. And they never even considered what it would be like for me at all. How embarrassing it would be to lose my position to a first year who had never even heard of Quidditch before in his life."

"Robbie, darling, calm yourself. That was years ago."

"It was two years ago," he snarled. Alison sighed. Robbie was a great guy, usually thoughtful and gentle. However, mercy and forgiveness were not his strong points, and he held grudges for years on end. He had been the Seeker for three years at Hogwarts, and it had been his greatest pride. He had always overlooked the fact that Gryffindor lost all it's matches while he played for them.

Since today would be her first day back at Smeltings, Alison decided to go back to her room. She might as well try to look a little more presentable. As she left the table, her mother noticed a long tooth from the brush in her hair.

"Alison, did you break another brush?" she questioned. Alison ignored her and hurried upstairs. She heard her mother muttering, "Honestly, that child will bankrupt us, needing a new brush every other day."

Alison went to the bathroom, and glanced in the mirror. This mirror (Auntie Mabel) began to speak in a high, prissy, nagging voice. "What, are you trying to be Harry Potter or something, drawing on your forehead like that?" Alison delicately hung a towel over the mirror, which sniffed daintily, before scrubbing her face.

When she hung the towel up again, she couldn't help notice as she looked in the mirror that her scrubbing had done nothing to remove the pen mark. "That's odd." she said quietly, before going to get her books ready for school.