Pictures lined the mantelpiece- a small, brunette baby, crawling about and
tormenting the cat; the boy, older now, arguing with an auburn-haired child
that seemed to delight in pulling his hair; the brother and sister with two
more siblings, all amusing themselves in one form or another as their
mother's form appeared and reappeared in the picture, making futile
attempts to calm them. Slightly left of the pictures, three brooms of
varying size and condition rested in a corner. They shook and fell as the
bearer of the fourth broom rushed inside and slammed the door.
"Bloody lightning," muttered the auburn-haired girl from the pictures. She was now a feisty eleven-year-old, her hair in a wet ponytail so it stayed out of her currently flushed freckled face. Pale green eyes flickered with anger behind a few flyway strands.
"Jennifer Rinnea Hawkins!" her mother exclaimed as she poked her head in from the kitchen. An ex-attorney, Jen's mother was brilliant, exacting, and took no guff from anyone, particularly not her children. "Let me never hear that word come out of your mouth again!"
"But Mum! Me'n Sam and Charlie had a great game going, and the bloody lightning ruined it."
"Go to your room, young lady," her mum said, the tone of her voice brooking no argument.
"I don't see a lady round here, do you?" retorted Jen, temper flaring.
"Jennifer-"
"Fine, fine, I'm going," she said, tossing her broomstick in the corner before trudging up the stairs to the room she shared with her older brother. Their small house was in good condition, but it was nowhere near big enough for six human inhabitants, let alone the bevy of animals the kids brought in.
"Having fun with Mum, eh?" asked Patrick, not taking his eyes off his copy of Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. His brown hair flopped into his eyes, and he brushed it away with an irritated gesture.
"If you're so brilliant, why aren't you smart enough to see you need a haircut?" she asked as she watched him. Patrick was going into his fourth year at Hogwarts, the famous wizarding academy, and he was always quick to remind his sister that he had made it into Ravenclaw, the house that most prized wisdom and brains, and was a brilliant student.
"Oh shove it, Jen," he said, flipping a page. Smirking slightly, he added, "You haven't gotten your letter yet, have you?"
"Post hasn't come yet," she replied, peeling off her wet sweatshirt and chucking it at him.
"Guess their selection process really does weed out the stupid ones," he said, picking up the sweatshirt and throwing it in the laundry at the foot of their bunk bed.
"You still got in, didn't you?" she retorted. Patrick didn't have many things to hold over her head, but the few he had- like her current lack of a letter from Hogwarts- he used regularly. Jen fervently hoped he soon wouldn't have that one to use.
----
The next day was still stormy, but a large tawny owl still managed to come through the wind and rain to peck at the windowpane.
Jen ran to the window and unlatched it swiftly. She nodded at the owl's soft hoot of thanks and ripped open the envelope it dropped in her hands as it took off for its remaining stops.
"Is it for me?" asked Dan, her youngest brother, as he poked his head under her arm to see it. "Nah, you stupid little git, it's for me," replied her brother Chris smugly. He was all of one year older than Dan, and twice as obnoxious.
"Shut up, you blokes, it's my letter from Hogwarts!" Jen said, her voice rising in volume until she was practically yelling. "MUM! PATRICK! I got my letter! I've been accepted to Hogwarts!"
"Oh Jenny, that's wonderful!" cried her mother as she came in from the living room. She gave Jen a huge hug, and when she let go, Jen saw she was beaming. "Well, let's see that list... oh, lovely! These are all books your brother has," she said as Jen stiffened.
I always get Patrick's leftovers. His books, his toys, even his clothes... I'm stuck in his stupid shadow, she thought miserably. She knew in her heart that they couldn't afford lots of new books or clothes, and his weren't in bad condition, but it still hurt.
"Well, I guess you got lucky, kid," said Patrick, giving her a bear hug. Chris and Dan tackled the two of them, and the siblings teetered, nearly losing their balance. Stepping back, Patrick remarked, "So you'll be in Ravenclaw, right? Best house around."
"I dunno," said Jen, a cocky grin on her face, "I've always rather liked Slytherin."
Patrick laughed and stuck his tongue out at her.
"Well," cut in her mother, "I suppose we'll have to stop by Diagon Alley and get you a wand and the rest of this loot."
The siblings all cheered.
---
As they wandered down Diagon Alley, Jen was nearly trembling with excitement. She skipped into the Ollivander's, and grinned widely when the man himself came up to her.
"Ah, Ms. Hawkins. I've been looking forward to seeing you," Mr. Ollivander said in his whispery voice.
A ruler began taking her measurements. As she watched it, Jen asked, "Didn't you have a tape measure to do this before?"
"I did until a boy blew it up last year," he remarked, wincing slightly at the memory. "Had a horrible time finding the right wand for him. Here," he said, handing her a wand. "Oak and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches. Springy."
Jen gave it a wave and a loud bang rang out, making everyone duck. Mr. Ollivander grabbed his hat from the floor as he stood, and Jen giggled as she saw the hole blown through it.
"Sorry," she said as he snatched the wand back.
"No you're not," he said, but it was a comment, not a reprimand. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Nice and supple," he said, handing her another wand. Everyone ducked as Jen raised it and gave it a wave, but there was no noise this time. Mr. Ollivander took the wand away as quickly as possible, as if to prevent her doing more damage, and as Jen followed his gaze, she saw why. Her family was slowly being lowered to the floor by her father and brother after she had shot them up near the ceiling.
"Nice going, Jen," taunted Patrick, but Jen grinned.
"I know," she replied, unperturbed.
"Maple and dragon heartstring, ten inches, pliable," muttered Mr. Ollivander, handing her yet another wand. Jen's fingers warmed as she gripped it, and four deafening booms rang out as she swept it downward.
"Bravo!" cried Mr. Ollivander, looking rather amused.
"You mean that wasn't a mistake?" cried Patrick, rubbing his ears.
"Did I hurt Pattycake's ears?" Jen taunted evilly. "Oh, dearie me."
Her father laughed and took out a few galleons to pay for the wand. Jen winced at the price, but grinned as the box was once again in her hands. As they headed out, she couldn't help but stare at the Nimbus 3 in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. She'd heard they were even better than the Firebolt Twos, and far better than the Nimbus 2500, but she could never afford one. Her old, secondhand Cleansweep 8 wasn't that bad, anyway, and she couldn't even take that to school. Patrick could, though, and did every year despite Jen's anger at having her broom stolen. He said even that was better than the school brooms. So I'll just need to work on my lock- picking. And maybe look up a few spells, she thought, her grin growing wider as she followed her parents to finish getting her supplies.
----
Even with just Jen and Patrick packing, the household was in chaos. Clothes disappeared, reappeared, and disappeared once more in a matter of minutes. Their room was a mess of books, supplies, furniture and spare change, with Jen and Patrick thrown in between. Jen, who was nearly through packing, having discovered an innate talent for finding what she needed in the clutter, turned her attention to her brother's things.
"Mum, do you know where my knickers are?" an exasperated Patrick bellowed down the stairs.
"I should hope you're at least wearing a pair," commented Jen mischievously, dodging a pillow he tossed at her. She finished stuffing her Appleby Arrows jersey into her trunk and grinned at Patrick, who looked at her in disbelief.
As she set her trunk down in front of the door, she heard a sound like music to her ears, and fought to keep a straight face.
"Bloody hell!" screamed Patrick. "My knickers are dancing a jig!"
"Bloody lightning," muttered the auburn-haired girl from the pictures. She was now a feisty eleven-year-old, her hair in a wet ponytail so it stayed out of her currently flushed freckled face. Pale green eyes flickered with anger behind a few flyway strands.
"Jennifer Rinnea Hawkins!" her mother exclaimed as she poked her head in from the kitchen. An ex-attorney, Jen's mother was brilliant, exacting, and took no guff from anyone, particularly not her children. "Let me never hear that word come out of your mouth again!"
"But Mum! Me'n Sam and Charlie had a great game going, and the bloody lightning ruined it."
"Go to your room, young lady," her mum said, the tone of her voice brooking no argument.
"I don't see a lady round here, do you?" retorted Jen, temper flaring.
"Jennifer-"
"Fine, fine, I'm going," she said, tossing her broomstick in the corner before trudging up the stairs to the room she shared with her older brother. Their small house was in good condition, but it was nowhere near big enough for six human inhabitants, let alone the bevy of animals the kids brought in.
"Having fun with Mum, eh?" asked Patrick, not taking his eyes off his copy of Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. His brown hair flopped into his eyes, and he brushed it away with an irritated gesture.
"If you're so brilliant, why aren't you smart enough to see you need a haircut?" she asked as she watched him. Patrick was going into his fourth year at Hogwarts, the famous wizarding academy, and he was always quick to remind his sister that he had made it into Ravenclaw, the house that most prized wisdom and brains, and was a brilliant student.
"Oh shove it, Jen," he said, flipping a page. Smirking slightly, he added, "You haven't gotten your letter yet, have you?"
"Post hasn't come yet," she replied, peeling off her wet sweatshirt and chucking it at him.
"Guess their selection process really does weed out the stupid ones," he said, picking up the sweatshirt and throwing it in the laundry at the foot of their bunk bed.
"You still got in, didn't you?" she retorted. Patrick didn't have many things to hold over her head, but the few he had- like her current lack of a letter from Hogwarts- he used regularly. Jen fervently hoped he soon wouldn't have that one to use.
----
The next day was still stormy, but a large tawny owl still managed to come through the wind and rain to peck at the windowpane.
Jen ran to the window and unlatched it swiftly. She nodded at the owl's soft hoot of thanks and ripped open the envelope it dropped in her hands as it took off for its remaining stops.
"Is it for me?" asked Dan, her youngest brother, as he poked his head under her arm to see it. "Nah, you stupid little git, it's for me," replied her brother Chris smugly. He was all of one year older than Dan, and twice as obnoxious.
"Shut up, you blokes, it's my letter from Hogwarts!" Jen said, her voice rising in volume until she was practically yelling. "MUM! PATRICK! I got my letter! I've been accepted to Hogwarts!"
"Oh Jenny, that's wonderful!" cried her mother as she came in from the living room. She gave Jen a huge hug, and when she let go, Jen saw she was beaming. "Well, let's see that list... oh, lovely! These are all books your brother has," she said as Jen stiffened.
I always get Patrick's leftovers. His books, his toys, even his clothes... I'm stuck in his stupid shadow, she thought miserably. She knew in her heart that they couldn't afford lots of new books or clothes, and his weren't in bad condition, but it still hurt.
"Well, I guess you got lucky, kid," said Patrick, giving her a bear hug. Chris and Dan tackled the two of them, and the siblings teetered, nearly losing their balance. Stepping back, Patrick remarked, "So you'll be in Ravenclaw, right? Best house around."
"I dunno," said Jen, a cocky grin on her face, "I've always rather liked Slytherin."
Patrick laughed and stuck his tongue out at her.
"Well," cut in her mother, "I suppose we'll have to stop by Diagon Alley and get you a wand and the rest of this loot."
The siblings all cheered.
---
As they wandered down Diagon Alley, Jen was nearly trembling with excitement. She skipped into the Ollivander's, and grinned widely when the man himself came up to her.
"Ah, Ms. Hawkins. I've been looking forward to seeing you," Mr. Ollivander said in his whispery voice.
A ruler began taking her measurements. As she watched it, Jen asked, "Didn't you have a tape measure to do this before?"
"I did until a boy blew it up last year," he remarked, wincing slightly at the memory. "Had a horrible time finding the right wand for him. Here," he said, handing her a wand. "Oak and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches. Springy."
Jen gave it a wave and a loud bang rang out, making everyone duck. Mr. Ollivander grabbed his hat from the floor as he stood, and Jen giggled as she saw the hole blown through it.
"Sorry," she said as he snatched the wand back.
"No you're not," he said, but it was a comment, not a reprimand. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Nice and supple," he said, handing her another wand. Everyone ducked as Jen raised it and gave it a wave, but there was no noise this time. Mr. Ollivander took the wand away as quickly as possible, as if to prevent her doing more damage, and as Jen followed his gaze, she saw why. Her family was slowly being lowered to the floor by her father and brother after she had shot them up near the ceiling.
"Nice going, Jen," taunted Patrick, but Jen grinned.
"I know," she replied, unperturbed.
"Maple and dragon heartstring, ten inches, pliable," muttered Mr. Ollivander, handing her yet another wand. Jen's fingers warmed as she gripped it, and four deafening booms rang out as she swept it downward.
"Bravo!" cried Mr. Ollivander, looking rather amused.
"You mean that wasn't a mistake?" cried Patrick, rubbing his ears.
"Did I hurt Pattycake's ears?" Jen taunted evilly. "Oh, dearie me."
Her father laughed and took out a few galleons to pay for the wand. Jen winced at the price, but grinned as the box was once again in her hands. As they headed out, she couldn't help but stare at the Nimbus 3 in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. She'd heard they were even better than the Firebolt Twos, and far better than the Nimbus 2500, but she could never afford one. Her old, secondhand Cleansweep 8 wasn't that bad, anyway, and she couldn't even take that to school. Patrick could, though, and did every year despite Jen's anger at having her broom stolen. He said even that was better than the school brooms. So I'll just need to work on my lock- picking. And maybe look up a few spells, she thought, her grin growing wider as she followed her parents to finish getting her supplies.
----
Even with just Jen and Patrick packing, the household was in chaos. Clothes disappeared, reappeared, and disappeared once more in a matter of minutes. Their room was a mess of books, supplies, furniture and spare change, with Jen and Patrick thrown in between. Jen, who was nearly through packing, having discovered an innate talent for finding what she needed in the clutter, turned her attention to her brother's things.
"Mum, do you know where my knickers are?" an exasperated Patrick bellowed down the stairs.
"I should hope you're at least wearing a pair," commented Jen mischievously, dodging a pillow he tossed at her. She finished stuffing her Appleby Arrows jersey into her trunk and grinned at Patrick, who looked at her in disbelief.
As she set her trunk down in front of the door, she heard a sound like music to her ears, and fought to keep a straight face.
"Bloody hell!" screamed Patrick. "My knickers are dancing a jig!"