Standard Disclaimer: Harry Potter and etc. belong to JK Rawling and
publishing. The rest of the characters belong to me.
Prologue
August 21st
"Now you don't go do anything that will embarrass me."
Meg sighed as she looked out at the rolling countryside, slowly becoming urbanized until they reached the suburbs. Meg was so excited for this was her first trip to England, her father and mother's homeland. After they married, they settled into Nova Scotia, Canada since her father was transferred. Meg was born in Canada, though, a full fledge Canadian and she was proud of her heritage of both being British and Canadian. For her summer vacation, her parents thought it would be fun for her spend some time with her cousin, who was three months older than her; and never let her forget it either. The trip was a complete nightmare. Mary Frances was a spoiled brat and the thought of having a new person to boss around was utterly delightful. Meg silently subject to the Princess, as she called her. Mary Frances believing it was a compliment loved the insult Meg threw at her whenever she became high handed.
Mary Frances pulled out a pocket mirror and with a pudgy hand try to fix the sleek down hair blond hair that held enough gel, hair spray and whatever Mary Frances could get her hands on this morning. "I mean it, Meaghan. Don't go make a fool of yourself, and try not to speak. Your accent may offend my cutie buns." Satisfied with the blond hairdo she snapped it shut.
Meg nearly gagged then and there. Cutie buns? What kind of name was that? As if my way of speech could offend anyone, it was same language for goodness sake! Meg simply nodded, and showed a smile of recently braced teeth. She had the retainer off two weeks before her trip.
The Princess shrugged at Meg's attempt to be smart but she never understood the joke. "I can't believe my parents have made you come with me. Why could you stay and play with Milo?"
Meg agreed. Milo, Mary Frances younger brother was a sweet boy who loved literature and his hometown hero Shakespeare. Often they escape from the Princess's rage and look at the moment to the famous writer in the village of Stafford-Upon-Avon.
She continued on: "This is my first time meeting his parents so I want to make a good impression. We go to the same school, Dudley and I. It was like love at first sight . . . "
Now I know I'm going to gag.
The taxi driver pulled into 4th Privet Drive and Mary Frances bounded out of the cab. Meg paused to tip the driver for she knew that her uncle never did before he paid the fare when they left. The driver gave her a sympathetic smile, "I don't think your accent is offensive."
"Thanks, sir." Meg said, passing him some coins. "I'm not sure of the currency yet." The driver took some of the coins but return half of it. "For a lovely lady like yourself I'll not take it all. You learn quickly, and that's the right amount."
Meg thanked him again then took a breath and stepped out of the cab. She stood in the driveway watching the cab pull out and travel down the street. "Meaghan, hurry up!" Mary Frances hissed up at the steps.
Meg turned, her hope of escaping left like the cab. She noticed a perfect garden, with a white wash fence in the backyard with benches. The house had a light-blue shutter that shone like the white paint on the rest of the house. This was going to be one long afternoon.
Prologue
August 21st
"Now you don't go do anything that will embarrass me."
Meg sighed as she looked out at the rolling countryside, slowly becoming urbanized until they reached the suburbs. Meg was so excited for this was her first trip to England, her father and mother's homeland. After they married, they settled into Nova Scotia, Canada since her father was transferred. Meg was born in Canada, though, a full fledge Canadian and she was proud of her heritage of both being British and Canadian. For her summer vacation, her parents thought it would be fun for her spend some time with her cousin, who was three months older than her; and never let her forget it either. The trip was a complete nightmare. Mary Frances was a spoiled brat and the thought of having a new person to boss around was utterly delightful. Meg silently subject to the Princess, as she called her. Mary Frances believing it was a compliment loved the insult Meg threw at her whenever she became high handed.
Mary Frances pulled out a pocket mirror and with a pudgy hand try to fix the sleek down hair blond hair that held enough gel, hair spray and whatever Mary Frances could get her hands on this morning. "I mean it, Meaghan. Don't go make a fool of yourself, and try not to speak. Your accent may offend my cutie buns." Satisfied with the blond hairdo she snapped it shut.
Meg nearly gagged then and there. Cutie buns? What kind of name was that? As if my way of speech could offend anyone, it was same language for goodness sake! Meg simply nodded, and showed a smile of recently braced teeth. She had the retainer off two weeks before her trip.
The Princess shrugged at Meg's attempt to be smart but she never understood the joke. "I can't believe my parents have made you come with me. Why could you stay and play with Milo?"
Meg agreed. Milo, Mary Frances younger brother was a sweet boy who loved literature and his hometown hero Shakespeare. Often they escape from the Princess's rage and look at the moment to the famous writer in the village of Stafford-Upon-Avon.
She continued on: "This is my first time meeting his parents so I want to make a good impression. We go to the same school, Dudley and I. It was like love at first sight . . . "
Now I know I'm going to gag.
The taxi driver pulled into 4th Privet Drive and Mary Frances bounded out of the cab. Meg paused to tip the driver for she knew that her uncle never did before he paid the fare when they left. The driver gave her a sympathetic smile, "I don't think your accent is offensive."
"Thanks, sir." Meg said, passing him some coins. "I'm not sure of the currency yet." The driver took some of the coins but return half of it. "For a lovely lady like yourself I'll not take it all. You learn quickly, and that's the right amount."
Meg thanked him again then took a breath and stepped out of the cab. She stood in the driveway watching the cab pull out and travel down the street. "Meaghan, hurry up!" Mary Frances hissed up at the steps.
Meg turned, her hope of escaping left like the cab. She noticed a perfect garden, with a white wash fence in the backyard with benches. The house had a light-blue shutter that shone like the white paint on the rest of the house. This was going to be one long afternoon.