A/N: Thanks for the reviews people of the world.
Disclaimer: Do I have to write one of these every chapter? They're getting boring. So yeah, whatever, Harry Potter doesn't blah blah blah why are you even reading this? skip to the story like all the normal people. Got a problem with that? I recommend arsenic.
Chapter 2
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Previously- Our young friend Jillian was hogging the bathroom.
Jillian was still in a vegetative state when the firemen arrived.
"Looks like we're going to have to break down the door. Hope you have pretty comprehensive home owner's insurance."
Jillian heard her father raise some weak protests, then found herself with an axe head quivering an inch from her nose and the remaining two thirds of what had once been her bathroom door swinging open to reveal two burly firemen.
"She looks alright to me." One of the firemen poked her with the butt of his axe. "Looks like our job here is done. Kitten Rescuing and Other Menial Stuff People Call 911 For Task Force awayyyyyyyyy!" And the two ran out the front door.
Jillian gaped at her father. Her father gaped at the envelope in her hand. The envelope just sat there, but was secretly afraid it was going to be snatched again.
"Dad, you know what witches are?" Her father nodded grimly. "Well, I think I am one."
Her dad stooped to her level. "Let's move to the kitchen. This bathroom is a bit cramped." Jillian thought he was taking it rather well.
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Gravis had burst out into squelching sobs. Her father was trying to comfort her best he could, but, being a male and therefore lacking the ability to convey even a façade of sympathy, kept proffering her tissues and asking her if she terribly minded him turning the game on.
Jillian was haphazardly tossing the clean contents of her closet into a large duffel bag. She had packed thirteen pairs of underwear, twenty-two shirts, a pair of blue jeans, and a too-small Halloween belly-dancer costume when she heard her dad call.
She bounded down the hall, passing Gravis on the way.
"Witch," sneered Gravis through her tears.
"Squib!" teased Jillian, and stuck out her tongue. She decided she liked the word 'squib' very much; it had a nice, bouncy ring to it.
Her dad was already bundled into the family car, and tuning the radio to a classical station.
"Tell me more about mum," Jillian asked, trying to solicit for more information from her reluctant father as she slid into the passengers seat.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, not liking to be reminded of the woman who had left him for a vampire. Even if fangs were what did it for her, she shouldn't have left them like that. He could have filed his teeth to points or something.
"Er…average build, Sagittarius, passionate badminton player…what would you like to know?" He released the parking break and started to drive down the street.
"Tell me about magic."
"I don't honestly know that much about it. But I was told to give this to you girls though, if you or Gravis was accepted into a magicking-type school." He held out a battered package wrapped in peeling flowered wrapping paper. "She said it would answer all your questions."
"Dad. This is a can of Spam. Surely, the miracle meat in a can cannot actually be the answer to all my questions." She chucked the low-sodium luncheon meat into the backseat. They sat in silence for a while.
"I think we're here," said her father, parking in front of a record store. "The Leaky Cauldron."
A/N: OK, yes, even less happened in this chapter. But if you look at the Harry Potter books, interesting things don't start to happen until quite a few chapters into them. So Bite Me, ever-loving action seeker. And the Spam, I promise, has some significance later on- her mum is not just some dodgy loon (unlike me).
Spam is owned by Hormel foods.