Elisabeth roused herself from out of the sleeping bag and changed
into the clothes she had set out the night before. She rolled up her
sleeping bag and sat on the floor, allowing her mind to process all the
information she had taken in in the past few days. She really couldn't
believe she was a witch. She had spent her entire life, or at least the
parts she could remember, as boring old Elisabeth Marie Potter.
She was not the last one picked for teams, it was her experience that those children were often fat and ugly or overly smart and scrawny. It was her personal opinion that children who wore pocket protecters should probably be shot anyway. Elisabeth, however, was none of those, in fact she was quite pretty, but she was small and shy, a bad combination. She was not a poor student, she was very eager to learn and spent many hours reading (although she did not work out math problems in her head or write detailed summaries without being told). No, Elisabeth was not the last to be picked for teams but she was never first either. Elisabeth fell flatly in the middle. Children who fall flatly in the middle, in Elisabeths opinion, go on to be doctors or teachers. Not witches or wizards. And then there was the problem of her father. He could not possibly be a wizard. Harry Potter was the co-owner of a small book store. In Elisabeth's opinion people who own bookstores do not have friends who are wizards and they are not, themselves, wizards. People who own bookstores sell books. However this was all in Elisabeth's opinion a week ago and that opinion had greatly changed. In the short space of a week Elisabeth had seen magic and flown a broom. She was quite convinced that she was Worldly and Mature. She was by the standards of a Muggle. She was also, by the standards of a Muggle, quite insane. But that did not bother her because she was not yet entirely clear what a Muggle was. She was also quite sure that going to Hogwarts would not be such a shock for her however going to Hogwarts would be a shock for Moira and Daniel, who's father worked a Hogwarts and who's mother was a medi-witch. It would be a shock for Anna and William who's mother worked at Hogwarts and who's grandfather was Minister for Magic. Hogwarts, it seemed was a place for shock but Elisabeth, in her new Worldly and Mature state (a state which I assure you she will lose upon entering Diagon Alley) was not thinking about that. She was not, in fact even thinking about magic. She was thinking about Kris Svenson. She was also thinking about the fact that her father worked with Kris Svenson and would see him more often than she would. This disturbed her especially since she was thinking of Kris Svenson as a potential love interest. She also thought about the fact that she was eleven years old. She was, of course eleven years old, her father had no idea what he was talking about. So Elisabeth was sitting there, thinking about Kris Svenson and the fact that she was eleven and he was fifteen and the fact that her father would snap his neck if he looked at her let alone kissed her. Elisabeth, very much like Moira and very little like Anna (much to Hermione and Lavenders dismay, they often felt that they should have switched children although they both loved their kids and would never voice their opinions that they thought the children had been switched at birth) decided that she would not waste time pursuing the impossible and focused instead on thoughts of Diagon Alley. What would it be like? Would there be actual shops or booths? More importantly who was this Apacia and her father? Why did her father have so much dislike of him? More mysteries. Elisabeth, although still half frightened she would disappoint her father was hoping she would be in Ravenclaw. Before they had left Moira said that she was sure she would be in Ravenclaw. Elisabeth liked Moira. She was a lot like herself. Perhaps a little more outgoing. A little bit braver. But that was okay, Elisabeth thought. She was mildly worried that Will would through himself off a cliff if he didn't get into Gryffindor. She had voiced this to Hermione and she had nodded.
"It would serve him right too." Elisabeth had the idea that Hermione might go out of her way to make sure Will wouldn't get into Gryffindor. She knew this was ridiculous but that didn't keep her from thinking about it occasionally. She also thought about Quidditch. She had never been good at sports, small and skinny, afraid of the ball she was like a deer in the headlights when it came to athleticism. Could she really get on the house team? It would be nice if she could but she supposed if she didn't make it she would be okay. She stretched and grabbed her rolled up sleeping bag and folded pajamas. She went downstairs and set them at the door. Opening the door to the front room she jumped back and raced back up to her room.
Her father really shouldn't have been sleeping with Hermione.
She was not the last one picked for teams, it was her experience that those children were often fat and ugly or overly smart and scrawny. It was her personal opinion that children who wore pocket protecters should probably be shot anyway. Elisabeth, however, was none of those, in fact she was quite pretty, but she was small and shy, a bad combination. She was not a poor student, she was very eager to learn and spent many hours reading (although she did not work out math problems in her head or write detailed summaries without being told). No, Elisabeth was not the last to be picked for teams but she was never first either. Elisabeth fell flatly in the middle. Children who fall flatly in the middle, in Elisabeths opinion, go on to be doctors or teachers. Not witches or wizards. And then there was the problem of her father. He could not possibly be a wizard. Harry Potter was the co-owner of a small book store. In Elisabeth's opinion people who own bookstores do not have friends who are wizards and they are not, themselves, wizards. People who own bookstores sell books. However this was all in Elisabeth's opinion a week ago and that opinion had greatly changed. In the short space of a week Elisabeth had seen magic and flown a broom. She was quite convinced that she was Worldly and Mature. She was by the standards of a Muggle. She was also, by the standards of a Muggle, quite insane. But that did not bother her because she was not yet entirely clear what a Muggle was. She was also quite sure that going to Hogwarts would not be such a shock for her however going to Hogwarts would be a shock for Moira and Daniel, who's father worked a Hogwarts and who's mother was a medi-witch. It would be a shock for Anna and William who's mother worked at Hogwarts and who's grandfather was Minister for Magic. Hogwarts, it seemed was a place for shock but Elisabeth, in her new Worldly and Mature state (a state which I assure you she will lose upon entering Diagon Alley) was not thinking about that. She was not, in fact even thinking about magic. She was thinking about Kris Svenson. She was also thinking about the fact that her father worked with Kris Svenson and would see him more often than she would. This disturbed her especially since she was thinking of Kris Svenson as a potential love interest. She also thought about the fact that she was eleven years old. She was, of course eleven years old, her father had no idea what he was talking about. So Elisabeth was sitting there, thinking about Kris Svenson and the fact that she was eleven and he was fifteen and the fact that her father would snap his neck if he looked at her let alone kissed her. Elisabeth, very much like Moira and very little like Anna (much to Hermione and Lavenders dismay, they often felt that they should have switched children although they both loved their kids and would never voice their opinions that they thought the children had been switched at birth) decided that she would not waste time pursuing the impossible and focused instead on thoughts of Diagon Alley. What would it be like? Would there be actual shops or booths? More importantly who was this Apacia and her father? Why did her father have so much dislike of him? More mysteries. Elisabeth, although still half frightened she would disappoint her father was hoping she would be in Ravenclaw. Before they had left Moira said that she was sure she would be in Ravenclaw. Elisabeth liked Moira. She was a lot like herself. Perhaps a little more outgoing. A little bit braver. But that was okay, Elisabeth thought. She was mildly worried that Will would through himself off a cliff if he didn't get into Gryffindor. She had voiced this to Hermione and she had nodded.
"It would serve him right too." Elisabeth had the idea that Hermione might go out of her way to make sure Will wouldn't get into Gryffindor. She knew this was ridiculous but that didn't keep her from thinking about it occasionally. She also thought about Quidditch. She had never been good at sports, small and skinny, afraid of the ball she was like a deer in the headlights when it came to athleticism. Could she really get on the house team? It would be nice if she could but she supposed if she didn't make it she would be okay. She stretched and grabbed her rolled up sleeping bag and folded pajamas. She went downstairs and set them at the door. Opening the door to the front room she jumped back and raced back up to her room.
Her father really shouldn't have been sleeping with Hermione.