**Wow, this is a long entry....six pages on Word Perfect...enjoy! **
"Charlotte...?" said the brown-haired girl. I nodded, smiling uncertainly.
"And, Harry told me about you, but...I'm sorry, I don't remember how to say your name," I said apologetically. She giggled.
"Oh, it's Hermione," she replied. She stuck out her hand awkwardly, and I shook it.
"Nice to meet you, Her-my-uh-knee," I said cautiously. She tipped her head slightly and I relaxed. I had enough trouble introducing myself to people without mispronouncing names. Our handshake was broken off suddenly by two of the redheads, tall but slightly stocky. I looked at both of their faces and realized with a shock that they were twins.
"Jolly good meeting you, young fair American," said one, grabbing my hand. He yanked it up and down enthusiastically. I blinked stupidly.
"How did you-?" I started to ask. The other one butted in, taking a turn.
"Oh, Harry's told Ron all about you," he said knowledgeably. I raised an eyebrow.
"And what does that have to do with you two?" I said, trying to talk to both of them at once, extremely difficult due to that fact that one was still avidly shaking my hand, and the other was now thumping me on the back.
"Oh, we're one big happy family, you know," said the one repeatedly thwacking my shoulder. "We know everything about each other. Don't worry, Harry and Hermione know this, they've been adopted by us. You will be too, once Mum meets you," he added, finally realizing that my back was not a bongo drum. The other one stopped shaking my hand too, and I rubbed it tenderly.
"Well, anyway, I'm Fred," said the one who had been 'patting' me on the back.
"And I'm George," said the other one. I grinned cautiously, not wanting to encourage them to do any more bodily greeting.
"I'm Charlie," I said, rolling from my heels to the balls of my feet. George frowned.
"Charlie?" he said. He scratched his head stupidly, and I realized it was another act. "That's not a name for a girl, is it? I mean, it's my brother's name...I thought-"
"Don't be thick, George," said Fred, thwapping him on the back of the head. George rubbed the spot comically. "Short for Charlotte, 'tisn't it?" Fred raised his eyebrows pompously at me.
"Indeed, 'tis," I managed to say with a straight face. I noticed the rest of the family was hovering in the background, waiting for Fred and George to end their two-man introduction. Apparently, they saw it too, because they both turned to me, bowed gentlemanly, and stumbled off inside the ice cream parlor. I watched after them, then shook my head, stifling a smile. I turned to everyone else. A middle-aged woman, with red hair of course, stepped forward, smiling widely.
"I'm Molly Weasley, dear," she said kindly. We shook hands lightly.
"Charlotte Porter," I replied. A tall, thin redheaded man stepped forward.
"I'm Arthur Weasley," he said. It sounded as though he were bursting to ask me something, but held himself in check. I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley," I said, trying to look open so that he wouldn't be uncomfortable asking anything. He ducked his head, though, and stepped back. Another redhead stepped forward. He looked to be the youngest of the boys, though just as tall and freckly. A light flickered on over my head.
"You must be Ron!" I said excitedly. His ears turned red. I shook his hand. "Harry's told me a lot about you."
"He's said a lot about you, too," he admitted, grinning. I grinned back, and turned to Harry.
"That's not all of them, is it?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips. Harry snickered.
"Of course not," he said in a deeper than usual voice.
"Good," I said, clapping my hands together. "I've got a few good handshakes left in me, wouldn't want to waste them." Another boy stepped forward. Or, well, man, I corrected myself. He looked to be around eighteen or nineteen years old.
"Percy Weasley," he said, shaking my hand briskly. "Pleasure to meet you, just a pleasure. Ron's told us about you. How is it in the good old States?"
"Er, ah," I stuttered, taken aback by this guy's attitude. It was like meeting the mayor. "It's great," I said firmly. He started to ask another question, which I had an odd feeling was about the weather, when he was yanked aside by Fred and George, who had returned each with an ice cream cone in hand.
"C'mon Perce," said George. "Leave her alone. She's got to meet Ginny yet." At this a small girl stepped forward from the shadows of her brothers. She smiled nervously. I thought she couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
"Hi, I'm Ginny," she said in a determined voice. I smiled.
"Charlie," I said warmly. I remembered back in the day when I had been shy and meek. I honestly couldn't help it, not talking, not making eye contact. It seemed as though finding out I was a witch, and learning magic, had boosted my confidence, like I had a protective barrier around me and no matter what I said, I couldn't be hurt, emotionally or physically. I turned my body so that I was standing next to Ginny, looking Ron, Percy, Fred, and George.
"These guys are all your brothers?" I asked her. "You have no sisters?" She nodded, a smile growing on her face.
"Yeah, and two of them aren't here," she said, becoming more talkative. I raised my eyebrows as high as they could go.
"Hmm, that makes it..." I counted out the girls in our party. Including Mrs. Weasley, there were, "four of us?" My eyes widened melodramatically, and everyone grinned. "We'll just have to stick together, not let them get the best of us," I told Ginny. She giggled.
"What time is it?" asked Harry suddenly. My eyebrows raised.
"Come on, Harry," I said. "It's not time to go already..." I drifted off as Mr. Weasley checked his watch.
"Three forty-five," he replied, looking at us inquiringly. Harry and I both jumped.
"Holy cow!" I said incredulously. Fred snorted and Ginny giggled. I flashed them a goofy grin. "Just an American saying. But we've got to meet Harry's uncle in a half hour, we better be off," I said, glancing at Harry. He nodded.
"Yeah, we've got to go," he told them. We gathered our things and set off, waving underneath our packages.
"See you in two days!" Ron shouted after us. It took me a moment to register what he had said.
"Two days," I thought. "This summer had gone by so fast."
"Yeah," said Harry. I jumped, almost dropping my things, when I realized I had spoken out loud. We went back to Gringotts and both withdrawled a significant amount of money to get us through the school year. I tried to pay Harry back, but he would have none of it. We finally reached the brick wall leading to Muggle London, with a half hour to spare. I followed him through the back entrance of the Leaky cauldron and to a table in the corner, ignoring the curious glances of regular patrons. The old wizard I had seen earlier, Tom, came up to the table.
"Having anything today, young ones?" he asked, giving us a big gap-toothed grin. As if on cue, my stomach gave a huge grumble. I snorted.
"Er, I'll have a, a....meat pie, is it?" I squinted at the menu, which was done in curly cue writing, barely legible. "Chicken, please. And what sort of drinks?" Tom thought for a moment.
"I've got some lovely iced tea," he said helpfully. He gave me a worried look. "I'm not sure what you like to drink in America." I smiled.
"Iced tea would be wonderful," I told him. "And I'm Charlotte Porter, by the way." Tom smiled at me. I glanced at Harry, who gave me a huge grin. I knew exactly what he was thinking. There you go again, Charlie.
"And for you, Mr. Potter?" he inquired.
"Make that two chicken pies, please," Harry told him. "And a water." Tom ducked his head politely and went off to fill our orders. There was a tiny squawk from under the table and I started. I put a hand over my heart.
"Jeez," I breathed. "That scared me. Are you hungry dude?" I directed my attention to my new owl. The owl cocked his head at me, as though to say Well, what d'you think, smart one? I smiled at him. "Wait til Tom gets back, I'll give ya a meat pasty thing."
"What're you going to name him?" Harry asked. I turned to face him.
"I dunno," I said thoughtfully. I stared absently into the owl's cage. My eyes focused suddenly on the piece of wood shaped like...
"ELVIS!" I said loudly. A few people jumped, a few turned around and stared. I slouched in my seat, face flaming, as Harry died of laughter on the floor. He sat up, still snorting, and looked at me amusedly.
"That's his name," I said indignantly. My color was receding, and the lighting was low, but I was sure Harry could still see it. He nodded, taking a deep breath shaky from laughing.
"My ribs hurt," he remarked, rubbing them. I snorted and bent over to talk to Elvis.
"Is that alright with you?" I asked him. He looked quizzical, as though he could understand me but had missed the last conversation. "Elvis? That's your name, ok?" He did a half shrug, like I could call him whatever I wanted, he didn't care, thank you. I exchanged grins with Harry. Just then, Tom brought our meals, steaming and glass mugs of light brown liquid. I sipped this cautiously and closed my eyes in bliss. Unlike most of the iced teas found in U.S. restaurant soda fountains, it was as the flavor itself was sweetened, not a separate sugary thing.
"Perfect," I breathed. Harry smiled and pushed a plate toward me. I examined the pie closely. It seemed to be a normal, universal chicken potpie. I cut a slice into little pieces and placed them carefully in Elvis' food tray. I watched him closely as he poked the warm meat cautiously, then sighed with relief as he snapped up a piece and swallowed it whole. I turned to my own plate, stuck my fork in it, and took a bite. It was delicious.
"Whoever said England had bland food never came to the Leaky Cauldron," I told my pie pointedly. I polished it off in five bites, and gulped down the last of my tea the same time Harry did. We put some money on the table and gathered our things once more. As we exited the tavern, I was suddenly aware of Elvis and his cage.
"Oh, no," I said, slowing down. Harry retraced his steps and stood beside me.
"What?" he asked, puffing slightly.
"How am I going to explain Elvis to your aunt and uncle?" I said, starting to panic. "We'll be at the car any minute, and they know you have and owl, and that you're a wizard, and-" I wasn't making sense, and Harry stopped me.
"How about you let him go?" he suggested. I looked at him skeptically, forgetting my panic for a moment. "I mean, he's an owl, and obviously a very smart one," I grinned, "so he'll be able to find you. It's just one of those magic things, witches and wizards have connections with their owls," he said hastily. He hitched his things up and got a better grip. "C'mon, let's go."
"Wait a sec," I told him annoyedly. I bent down, unlatched Elvis' cage, trying not to drop anything. The black owl climbed out warily and stuck his neck out, surveying the area. Suddenly he started flapping his wings and shot into the air. I felt a tiny wave of panic wash over me, but stuffed it down firmly. This was what an owl was for, wasn't it?
Elvis perched himself on a flagpole and looked out on the street, chest puffed out. I smiled cautiously. He flew off the pole and swept down, landing on my shoulder. I winced slightly at the talons in my arm, but reached up through the pain and pet him.
"Can you really find me at home, bud?" I asked him worredly. He gave me a pompous look. What exactly is that supposed to mean? Do you really think I am capable of less than any other owl? How dare you suggest such a thing!
Indignantly, he hop-flew off my shoulder and perched on his cage. I scratched his head and he made a forgiving sound, looking up at me with amber eyes. I smiled.
"Okay, off with you," I told him. I made a shooing motion and, with one last look, he soared into the sky. I watched him until he was a tiny dot, then until I couldn't see him anymore. With a sigh, I turned with Harry and started to walk to the meeting spot.
"He'll be fine you know," said Harry, seeing me look at the sky for the hundredth time. "He's a smart owl. I can tell, you and Elvis have the same thing as Hedwig and I. It's one of those great bonuses of being a wizard. Or witch," he added fairly. "I mean, I can almost talk to Hedwig, I know what she's thinking, and she knows what I'm thinking. It's wonderful. Here, let me take the cage, I'll pretend it's mine so they aren't suspicious of you." I smiled and absorbed myself in my thoughts until we reached the meeting place, where Vernon Dursley was waiting with an extremely worried look on his face.
"How was London?" he asked cautiously. I smiled placidly.
"It was great," I told him. "Thank you very much for letting us go. I've got all my things for school. The train leaves in two days for...for, Bath." Mentally, I thwacked myself upside the head. Great, Char, I told myself. Just great. The great village of Bath, that's where a rich guy would send his daughter. Vernon didn't seem to notice though. He only looked relieved to have me out of the house.
"Yes, well, that's lovely," he said absently. His comments turned to Harry, and his tone changed. "What about you, boy? When do you leave?" he demanded.
"Same day," he muttered, looking at his feet. Vernon chortled.
"Well, that'll be easy then," he remarked. There was a silence, then he turned the radio on. It was some station that played old songs from the 40's.
"Chattanooga choo choooooooo," it sang, crackling slightly. I was silent for the rest of the ride, watching things go by faster than I could focus on them. I remembered feeling this way when I found out I was a witch. I was swept off to school, learned twice as many things as I ever had in Muggle school, and now I was in England. It was crazy. We got home a half hour later. I gathered all my things, refusing to let Vernon help me. What if he dropped something, and out tumbled Standard Book of Spells: Fifth Edition? That would be a bit harder to lie about. I barely made it to my guest room before dropping everything in the middle of the floor. I heard a similar clunk from across the hall, and Harry appeared at my doorway.
"Aunt Petunia says dinner'll be ready in fifteen minutes," he said. I motioned him to come in. He did so, closing the door behind him, and placed Elvis' cage on my dresser near the window. He grinned at me. "Better open your window." I looked at him quizzically, but did so. I felt a breeze and shrieked with surprise.
"Elvis!" I said happily. Perched on his cage, he leaned over and nuzzled me lovingly. "Stop, ya big flirt," I told him, smiling. "I'll bring you some scraps after dinner, ok?" He cocked his head, a gesture I was becoming familiar with as the one he used to say yes. I grinned.
"I'm going to go put my things away," said Harry. I nodded.
"I should prolly do that to," I said, sighing. With a motion of farewell, Harry was gone. I took a deep breath and started to pack for Hogwarts.
"Charlotte...?" said the brown-haired girl. I nodded, smiling uncertainly.
"And, Harry told me about you, but...I'm sorry, I don't remember how to say your name," I said apologetically. She giggled.
"Oh, it's Hermione," she replied. She stuck out her hand awkwardly, and I shook it.
"Nice to meet you, Her-my-uh-knee," I said cautiously. She tipped her head slightly and I relaxed. I had enough trouble introducing myself to people without mispronouncing names. Our handshake was broken off suddenly by two of the redheads, tall but slightly stocky. I looked at both of their faces and realized with a shock that they were twins.
"Jolly good meeting you, young fair American," said one, grabbing my hand. He yanked it up and down enthusiastically. I blinked stupidly.
"How did you-?" I started to ask. The other one butted in, taking a turn.
"Oh, Harry's told Ron all about you," he said knowledgeably. I raised an eyebrow.
"And what does that have to do with you two?" I said, trying to talk to both of them at once, extremely difficult due to that fact that one was still avidly shaking my hand, and the other was now thumping me on the back.
"Oh, we're one big happy family, you know," said the one repeatedly thwacking my shoulder. "We know everything about each other. Don't worry, Harry and Hermione know this, they've been adopted by us. You will be too, once Mum meets you," he added, finally realizing that my back was not a bongo drum. The other one stopped shaking my hand too, and I rubbed it tenderly.
"Well, anyway, I'm Fred," said the one who had been 'patting' me on the back.
"And I'm George," said the other one. I grinned cautiously, not wanting to encourage them to do any more bodily greeting.
"I'm Charlie," I said, rolling from my heels to the balls of my feet. George frowned.
"Charlie?" he said. He scratched his head stupidly, and I realized it was another act. "That's not a name for a girl, is it? I mean, it's my brother's name...I thought-"
"Don't be thick, George," said Fred, thwapping him on the back of the head. George rubbed the spot comically. "Short for Charlotte, 'tisn't it?" Fred raised his eyebrows pompously at me.
"Indeed, 'tis," I managed to say with a straight face. I noticed the rest of the family was hovering in the background, waiting for Fred and George to end their two-man introduction. Apparently, they saw it too, because they both turned to me, bowed gentlemanly, and stumbled off inside the ice cream parlor. I watched after them, then shook my head, stifling a smile. I turned to everyone else. A middle-aged woman, with red hair of course, stepped forward, smiling widely.
"I'm Molly Weasley, dear," she said kindly. We shook hands lightly.
"Charlotte Porter," I replied. A tall, thin redheaded man stepped forward.
"I'm Arthur Weasley," he said. It sounded as though he were bursting to ask me something, but held himself in check. I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley," I said, trying to look open so that he wouldn't be uncomfortable asking anything. He ducked his head, though, and stepped back. Another redhead stepped forward. He looked to be the youngest of the boys, though just as tall and freckly. A light flickered on over my head.
"You must be Ron!" I said excitedly. His ears turned red. I shook his hand. "Harry's told me a lot about you."
"He's said a lot about you, too," he admitted, grinning. I grinned back, and turned to Harry.
"That's not all of them, is it?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips. Harry snickered.
"Of course not," he said in a deeper than usual voice.
"Good," I said, clapping my hands together. "I've got a few good handshakes left in me, wouldn't want to waste them." Another boy stepped forward. Or, well, man, I corrected myself. He looked to be around eighteen or nineteen years old.
"Percy Weasley," he said, shaking my hand briskly. "Pleasure to meet you, just a pleasure. Ron's told us about you. How is it in the good old States?"
"Er, ah," I stuttered, taken aback by this guy's attitude. It was like meeting the mayor. "It's great," I said firmly. He started to ask another question, which I had an odd feeling was about the weather, when he was yanked aside by Fred and George, who had returned each with an ice cream cone in hand.
"C'mon Perce," said George. "Leave her alone. She's got to meet Ginny yet." At this a small girl stepped forward from the shadows of her brothers. She smiled nervously. I thought she couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
"Hi, I'm Ginny," she said in a determined voice. I smiled.
"Charlie," I said warmly. I remembered back in the day when I had been shy and meek. I honestly couldn't help it, not talking, not making eye contact. It seemed as though finding out I was a witch, and learning magic, had boosted my confidence, like I had a protective barrier around me and no matter what I said, I couldn't be hurt, emotionally or physically. I turned my body so that I was standing next to Ginny, looking Ron, Percy, Fred, and George.
"These guys are all your brothers?" I asked her. "You have no sisters?" She nodded, a smile growing on her face.
"Yeah, and two of them aren't here," she said, becoming more talkative. I raised my eyebrows as high as they could go.
"Hmm, that makes it..." I counted out the girls in our party. Including Mrs. Weasley, there were, "four of us?" My eyes widened melodramatically, and everyone grinned. "We'll just have to stick together, not let them get the best of us," I told Ginny. She giggled.
"What time is it?" asked Harry suddenly. My eyebrows raised.
"Come on, Harry," I said. "It's not time to go already..." I drifted off as Mr. Weasley checked his watch.
"Three forty-five," he replied, looking at us inquiringly. Harry and I both jumped.
"Holy cow!" I said incredulously. Fred snorted and Ginny giggled. I flashed them a goofy grin. "Just an American saying. But we've got to meet Harry's uncle in a half hour, we better be off," I said, glancing at Harry. He nodded.
"Yeah, we've got to go," he told them. We gathered our things and set off, waving underneath our packages.
"See you in two days!" Ron shouted after us. It took me a moment to register what he had said.
"Two days," I thought. "This summer had gone by so fast."
"Yeah," said Harry. I jumped, almost dropping my things, when I realized I had spoken out loud. We went back to Gringotts and both withdrawled a significant amount of money to get us through the school year. I tried to pay Harry back, but he would have none of it. We finally reached the brick wall leading to Muggle London, with a half hour to spare. I followed him through the back entrance of the Leaky cauldron and to a table in the corner, ignoring the curious glances of regular patrons. The old wizard I had seen earlier, Tom, came up to the table.
"Having anything today, young ones?" he asked, giving us a big gap-toothed grin. As if on cue, my stomach gave a huge grumble. I snorted.
"Er, I'll have a, a....meat pie, is it?" I squinted at the menu, which was done in curly cue writing, barely legible. "Chicken, please. And what sort of drinks?" Tom thought for a moment.
"I've got some lovely iced tea," he said helpfully. He gave me a worried look. "I'm not sure what you like to drink in America." I smiled.
"Iced tea would be wonderful," I told him. "And I'm Charlotte Porter, by the way." Tom smiled at me. I glanced at Harry, who gave me a huge grin. I knew exactly what he was thinking. There you go again, Charlie.
"And for you, Mr. Potter?" he inquired.
"Make that two chicken pies, please," Harry told him. "And a water." Tom ducked his head politely and went off to fill our orders. There was a tiny squawk from under the table and I started. I put a hand over my heart.
"Jeez," I breathed. "That scared me. Are you hungry dude?" I directed my attention to my new owl. The owl cocked his head at me, as though to say Well, what d'you think, smart one? I smiled at him. "Wait til Tom gets back, I'll give ya a meat pasty thing."
"What're you going to name him?" Harry asked. I turned to face him.
"I dunno," I said thoughtfully. I stared absently into the owl's cage. My eyes focused suddenly on the piece of wood shaped like...
"ELVIS!" I said loudly. A few people jumped, a few turned around and stared. I slouched in my seat, face flaming, as Harry died of laughter on the floor. He sat up, still snorting, and looked at me amusedly.
"That's his name," I said indignantly. My color was receding, and the lighting was low, but I was sure Harry could still see it. He nodded, taking a deep breath shaky from laughing.
"My ribs hurt," he remarked, rubbing them. I snorted and bent over to talk to Elvis.
"Is that alright with you?" I asked him. He looked quizzical, as though he could understand me but had missed the last conversation. "Elvis? That's your name, ok?" He did a half shrug, like I could call him whatever I wanted, he didn't care, thank you. I exchanged grins with Harry. Just then, Tom brought our meals, steaming and glass mugs of light brown liquid. I sipped this cautiously and closed my eyes in bliss. Unlike most of the iced teas found in U.S. restaurant soda fountains, it was as the flavor itself was sweetened, not a separate sugary thing.
"Perfect," I breathed. Harry smiled and pushed a plate toward me. I examined the pie closely. It seemed to be a normal, universal chicken potpie. I cut a slice into little pieces and placed them carefully in Elvis' food tray. I watched him closely as he poked the warm meat cautiously, then sighed with relief as he snapped up a piece and swallowed it whole. I turned to my own plate, stuck my fork in it, and took a bite. It was delicious.
"Whoever said England had bland food never came to the Leaky Cauldron," I told my pie pointedly. I polished it off in five bites, and gulped down the last of my tea the same time Harry did. We put some money on the table and gathered our things once more. As we exited the tavern, I was suddenly aware of Elvis and his cage.
"Oh, no," I said, slowing down. Harry retraced his steps and stood beside me.
"What?" he asked, puffing slightly.
"How am I going to explain Elvis to your aunt and uncle?" I said, starting to panic. "We'll be at the car any minute, and they know you have and owl, and that you're a wizard, and-" I wasn't making sense, and Harry stopped me.
"How about you let him go?" he suggested. I looked at him skeptically, forgetting my panic for a moment. "I mean, he's an owl, and obviously a very smart one," I grinned, "so he'll be able to find you. It's just one of those magic things, witches and wizards have connections with their owls," he said hastily. He hitched his things up and got a better grip. "C'mon, let's go."
"Wait a sec," I told him annoyedly. I bent down, unlatched Elvis' cage, trying not to drop anything. The black owl climbed out warily and stuck his neck out, surveying the area. Suddenly he started flapping his wings and shot into the air. I felt a tiny wave of panic wash over me, but stuffed it down firmly. This was what an owl was for, wasn't it?
Elvis perched himself on a flagpole and looked out on the street, chest puffed out. I smiled cautiously. He flew off the pole and swept down, landing on my shoulder. I winced slightly at the talons in my arm, but reached up through the pain and pet him.
"Can you really find me at home, bud?" I asked him worredly. He gave me a pompous look. What exactly is that supposed to mean? Do you really think I am capable of less than any other owl? How dare you suggest such a thing!
Indignantly, he hop-flew off my shoulder and perched on his cage. I scratched his head and he made a forgiving sound, looking up at me with amber eyes. I smiled.
"Okay, off with you," I told him. I made a shooing motion and, with one last look, he soared into the sky. I watched him until he was a tiny dot, then until I couldn't see him anymore. With a sigh, I turned with Harry and started to walk to the meeting spot.
"He'll be fine you know," said Harry, seeing me look at the sky for the hundredth time. "He's a smart owl. I can tell, you and Elvis have the same thing as Hedwig and I. It's one of those great bonuses of being a wizard. Or witch," he added fairly. "I mean, I can almost talk to Hedwig, I know what she's thinking, and she knows what I'm thinking. It's wonderful. Here, let me take the cage, I'll pretend it's mine so they aren't suspicious of you." I smiled and absorbed myself in my thoughts until we reached the meeting place, where Vernon Dursley was waiting with an extremely worried look on his face.
"How was London?" he asked cautiously. I smiled placidly.
"It was great," I told him. "Thank you very much for letting us go. I've got all my things for school. The train leaves in two days for...for, Bath." Mentally, I thwacked myself upside the head. Great, Char, I told myself. Just great. The great village of Bath, that's where a rich guy would send his daughter. Vernon didn't seem to notice though. He only looked relieved to have me out of the house.
"Yes, well, that's lovely," he said absently. His comments turned to Harry, and his tone changed. "What about you, boy? When do you leave?" he demanded.
"Same day," he muttered, looking at his feet. Vernon chortled.
"Well, that'll be easy then," he remarked. There was a silence, then he turned the radio on. It was some station that played old songs from the 40's.
"Chattanooga choo choooooooo," it sang, crackling slightly. I was silent for the rest of the ride, watching things go by faster than I could focus on them. I remembered feeling this way when I found out I was a witch. I was swept off to school, learned twice as many things as I ever had in Muggle school, and now I was in England. It was crazy. We got home a half hour later. I gathered all my things, refusing to let Vernon help me. What if he dropped something, and out tumbled Standard Book of Spells: Fifth Edition? That would be a bit harder to lie about. I barely made it to my guest room before dropping everything in the middle of the floor. I heard a similar clunk from across the hall, and Harry appeared at my doorway.
"Aunt Petunia says dinner'll be ready in fifteen minutes," he said. I motioned him to come in. He did so, closing the door behind him, and placed Elvis' cage on my dresser near the window. He grinned at me. "Better open your window." I looked at him quizzically, but did so. I felt a breeze and shrieked with surprise.
"Elvis!" I said happily. Perched on his cage, he leaned over and nuzzled me lovingly. "Stop, ya big flirt," I told him, smiling. "I'll bring you some scraps after dinner, ok?" He cocked his head, a gesture I was becoming familiar with as the one he used to say yes. I grinned.
"I'm going to go put my things away," said Harry. I nodded.
"I should prolly do that to," I said, sighing. With a motion of farewell, Harry was gone. I took a deep breath and started to pack for Hogwarts.