Finally the long awaited day arrived. Early in the morning, trunk packed
and handy Sian threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace. She stood in the
green flames and shouted, "Leaky Cauldron." She felt the wind rush past her
and minutes later she arrived in the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron. Floo
Powder was the only legal way for under age wizards like herself to travel
in.
"Ah, customers," said the innkeeper, "I'm Tom, the owner."
"Hold on sir," Sian told him, "my mum's comin'." She stepped out of the fireplace and her mother Apparated by the bar.
"Ah, Tom," Sinead said, "One room for tonight and the morning?"
"Sure thing," Tom replied reaching behind the bar, "Room 16."
"Alright, thanks." Sian followed her mother up the stairs. She denied every bit of Tom's assistance on helping her carry the trunk. "I pack light," she told the persistent man. It was true; she never dropped the trunk, or threatened to drop it even once. There was never any straining or struggling muscles, which was reasonable, she had spent the last five years on a farm, it was only reasonable that she had muscle. Sian left the trunk at the foot of the bed.
"Have fun," Sinead told her daughter handing her a satchel of twenty golden Galleons, "don't spend it all. That is all you are getting, and don't forget---no broom buying."
Sian grinned rather innocently and left, her CD player in hand. She walked out onto Diagon Alley and looked for the stores she needed to go to. She stopped at Madame Malkin's Robe Shop to get fitted for robes. Sian grumbled the whole time about how in America they wore muggle clothes to school, to the blonde haired boy next to her. He was purely English, not to mention the stuck-up type. He was rather hot, and she attempted to avoid him. Madame Malkin had her robes done in no time and she cruised the store while she waited. The boy however was incredibly persistent and tried to make conversation all the while. Sian finally had a brilliant idea and listened to her loud Irish Techno and no longer had to put up with the boy's endless attempts to make conversation.
With her robes Sian traveled to the Magical Menagerie. She searched high and low to look for an animal that vaguely reminded her of Rowan so she wouldn't get homesick too much. Sian almost didn't see him, she was so lost in both her thoughts and her music. A scrawny roan colored horned owl peeped and hooted every now and then. As the songs on her CD player changed she heard him make a noise and turned in the direction she thought she had heard him. A rather large cage on a top shelf covered in empty cages held the owl she wanted. Sian ran to the witch at the counter. "I want the owl on the top shelf!" Sian yelled over her music.
The witch looked at her then to the owl, then back to her, disbelieving. "He's not too healthy, and not very old."
"It's alright," Sian told the witch, "I'm excellent with animals, they love me, just let me have him."
"Alright," agreed the witch after a long moment of thought, "one galleon."
As Sian walked with her new owl out the door she immediately decided on a name, Rory, it meant "red king" in Gaelic. She walked back to the Leaky Cauldron and dropped off the stuff in her room. Back at the bar she ran into Hazel and Alicia. They laughed and talked about old times and stuff they had done since Sian had left. The instant they had talked themselves out Alicia got right to the point. "Sian, the truth is---we need a Keeper, for Quidditch."
"Guys! I hardly know how to play the game, much less a position." Sian cried.
"Yeah, we realize that," Hazel told her friend, "every year we hold a preseason, to get the kids with potential a chance to learn and play good. Except, we've never had a Keeper that matched up to Oliver-and we need one."
"So you are going to make me your Keeper, even if I suck?" Sian asked puzzled.
"No-you're good. Remember those years we'd play football together? You absolutely kicked butt." Hazel argued.
"Yeah, only I was on two flat feet," Sian told her.
They walked to the bookstore arguing the whole time. She bought all her books and walked back still arguing. They only stopped once to admire the Firebolt still in the window of the broom shop. Sian tore her eyes away and kept walking, she wouldn't buy a broom, she wouldn't buy a broom? They walked back silent, for the first time. In the Leaky Cauldron, the Weasleys and some other people waited for them. George introduced them. There was his tall and lanky younger brother, Ron that she already knew, Ginny, their younger sister, who looked just like the rest of the Weasleys, tall, blazing orange hair, and freckles. A rather scrawny but growing kid with unkempt, jet black hair and blazing green eyes turned out to Harry Potter, and a girl with puffy, mousy brown hair, and otherwise pretty face turned out to be Hermione Granger. "Well I'm Sian and I need to go for a sec, I'll be back in fifteen or so minutes." Her audience watched in wondered as her once icy blue eyes turned to a mossy green while they were being introduced and then to a purplish color when she needed to go. Her new friends made conversation and dismissed her soon enough. Sian ran to her room where her mother was waiting.
"Yeah, I was thinking that you might want your brooms, for Quidditch reasons, you know," her mother implied.
"That'd kick some serious butt," Sian cried oh so happy, and her eyes turned their normal icy blue.
"You could use a summoning charm maybe?"
"Um, well only two of those have been tested."
"So what are you saying?"
"I don't know, they might not do what you want them to? But they are also in oh-Ireland. Let's just go."
"Okay, but you are going I don't want to have to step in that room of yours I might get swallowed up by the invisible floor."
"Okay." Sian grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the flames. When they turned green she stood in the flames and yelled, "MacDonal Castle!" She whooshed for minutes on end and arrived in the living room. Sian ran up the stairs and into her room. She retrieved the four brooms that her mother was waiting for, with them in hand, her mother Disapparated. As she walked down the long corridors she remembered why she had loved the American house more; it didn't seem as lonely, cold, and desolate. Hurriedly she made her way back to the fireplace, except there was no Floo Powder to be found. There had been some before, she told herself. Just as she was about to look for reserves a moving shadow caught her eye. She pretended not to notice. When she searched all the rooms on the ground floor with no avail she decided to go upstairs because it seemed the only logical thing to do. In her room she knew she always kept some handy and waded through the mass of new things to her bed.
Under her bed was a vial she reminded herself and dove under the bed just in time to see her stalker enter. To her bad misjudgment it was not who she thought it was. Since he only stayed at the door she made her way to him under the cover of boxes. Sian jumped behind him and threw him in a headlock. "Ha, ha," she laughed. The stalker had no time to react.
"Ah, customers," said the innkeeper, "I'm Tom, the owner."
"Hold on sir," Sian told him, "my mum's comin'." She stepped out of the fireplace and her mother Apparated by the bar.
"Ah, Tom," Sinead said, "One room for tonight and the morning?"
"Sure thing," Tom replied reaching behind the bar, "Room 16."
"Alright, thanks." Sian followed her mother up the stairs. She denied every bit of Tom's assistance on helping her carry the trunk. "I pack light," she told the persistent man. It was true; she never dropped the trunk, or threatened to drop it even once. There was never any straining or struggling muscles, which was reasonable, she had spent the last five years on a farm, it was only reasonable that she had muscle. Sian left the trunk at the foot of the bed.
"Have fun," Sinead told her daughter handing her a satchel of twenty golden Galleons, "don't spend it all. That is all you are getting, and don't forget---no broom buying."
Sian grinned rather innocently and left, her CD player in hand. She walked out onto Diagon Alley and looked for the stores she needed to go to. She stopped at Madame Malkin's Robe Shop to get fitted for robes. Sian grumbled the whole time about how in America they wore muggle clothes to school, to the blonde haired boy next to her. He was purely English, not to mention the stuck-up type. He was rather hot, and she attempted to avoid him. Madame Malkin had her robes done in no time and she cruised the store while she waited. The boy however was incredibly persistent and tried to make conversation all the while. Sian finally had a brilliant idea and listened to her loud Irish Techno and no longer had to put up with the boy's endless attempts to make conversation.
With her robes Sian traveled to the Magical Menagerie. She searched high and low to look for an animal that vaguely reminded her of Rowan so she wouldn't get homesick too much. Sian almost didn't see him, she was so lost in both her thoughts and her music. A scrawny roan colored horned owl peeped and hooted every now and then. As the songs on her CD player changed she heard him make a noise and turned in the direction she thought she had heard him. A rather large cage on a top shelf covered in empty cages held the owl she wanted. Sian ran to the witch at the counter. "I want the owl on the top shelf!" Sian yelled over her music.
The witch looked at her then to the owl, then back to her, disbelieving. "He's not too healthy, and not very old."
"It's alright," Sian told the witch, "I'm excellent with animals, they love me, just let me have him."
"Alright," agreed the witch after a long moment of thought, "one galleon."
As Sian walked with her new owl out the door she immediately decided on a name, Rory, it meant "red king" in Gaelic. She walked back to the Leaky Cauldron and dropped off the stuff in her room. Back at the bar she ran into Hazel and Alicia. They laughed and talked about old times and stuff they had done since Sian had left. The instant they had talked themselves out Alicia got right to the point. "Sian, the truth is---we need a Keeper, for Quidditch."
"Guys! I hardly know how to play the game, much less a position." Sian cried.
"Yeah, we realize that," Hazel told her friend, "every year we hold a preseason, to get the kids with potential a chance to learn and play good. Except, we've never had a Keeper that matched up to Oliver-and we need one."
"So you are going to make me your Keeper, even if I suck?" Sian asked puzzled.
"No-you're good. Remember those years we'd play football together? You absolutely kicked butt." Hazel argued.
"Yeah, only I was on two flat feet," Sian told her.
They walked to the bookstore arguing the whole time. She bought all her books and walked back still arguing. They only stopped once to admire the Firebolt still in the window of the broom shop. Sian tore her eyes away and kept walking, she wouldn't buy a broom, she wouldn't buy a broom? They walked back silent, for the first time. In the Leaky Cauldron, the Weasleys and some other people waited for them. George introduced them. There was his tall and lanky younger brother, Ron that she already knew, Ginny, their younger sister, who looked just like the rest of the Weasleys, tall, blazing orange hair, and freckles. A rather scrawny but growing kid with unkempt, jet black hair and blazing green eyes turned out to Harry Potter, and a girl with puffy, mousy brown hair, and otherwise pretty face turned out to be Hermione Granger. "Well I'm Sian and I need to go for a sec, I'll be back in fifteen or so minutes." Her audience watched in wondered as her once icy blue eyes turned to a mossy green while they were being introduced and then to a purplish color when she needed to go. Her new friends made conversation and dismissed her soon enough. Sian ran to her room where her mother was waiting.
"Yeah, I was thinking that you might want your brooms, for Quidditch reasons, you know," her mother implied.
"That'd kick some serious butt," Sian cried oh so happy, and her eyes turned their normal icy blue.
"You could use a summoning charm maybe?"
"Um, well only two of those have been tested."
"So what are you saying?"
"I don't know, they might not do what you want them to? But they are also in oh-Ireland. Let's just go."
"Okay, but you are going I don't want to have to step in that room of yours I might get swallowed up by the invisible floor."
"Okay." Sian grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the flames. When they turned green she stood in the flames and yelled, "MacDonal Castle!" She whooshed for minutes on end and arrived in the living room. Sian ran up the stairs and into her room. She retrieved the four brooms that her mother was waiting for, with them in hand, her mother Disapparated. As she walked down the long corridors she remembered why she had loved the American house more; it didn't seem as lonely, cold, and desolate. Hurriedly she made her way back to the fireplace, except there was no Floo Powder to be found. There had been some before, she told herself. Just as she was about to look for reserves a moving shadow caught her eye. She pretended not to notice. When she searched all the rooms on the ground floor with no avail she decided to go upstairs because it seemed the only logical thing to do. In her room she knew she always kept some handy and waded through the mass of new things to her bed.
Under her bed was a vial she reminded herself and dove under the bed just in time to see her stalker enter. To her bad misjudgment it was not who she thought it was. Since he only stayed at the door she made her way to him under the cover of boxes. Sian jumped behind him and threw him in a headlock. "Ha, ha," she laughed. The stalker had no time to react.
