Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Nothing. Now go read my story, I'm sure you didn't come here to read this.
"Mom, can't you just do it, pleeeease?"
My mother planted her hands on her hips, looking half amused, half exasperated.
"You're 15 years old. You should be able to talk to salesladies yourself." A hint of a smile played around her lips.
I wriggled my toes, looking sheepish. "Just this time?" My eyes pleaded with her.
"Alright, come on." My mother entered the small shop, with me right behind her.
"Excuse me, are you the seamstress?"
"Yes ma'am. What can I do for you?"
"My daughter needs robes for Hogwarts."
The plump woman- Madam Malkin, according to the sign –bustled out to a back room, as I watched the street outside through the large window. It was crowded with witches and wizards shopping for school. No one I knew, of course. I had left all of my friends behind. My eyes started prickling with hot tears, and I felt my chest tighten around that sore spot.
"Miss?"
I turned to see the seamstress behind me holding measuring tape and a wooden soapbox. She asked me to stand up on the soapbox while she took my measurements. I obeyed, feeling slightly embarrassed at having a stranger measure my chest.
"Ah." The woman said knowingly after having measured me all around. Then she hurried to the back of the shop and grabbed a handful of robes.
We left the shop, making our way to the bookstore. I stuck my hands into the pocket of my muggle hoodie, and fixed my eyes on the ground as I walked, as is my habit. This proved to be a bad idea, because just a few moments later I ran into something quite big and fell back on my rear end.
"Whoops!" I heard right above me. I looked up to see a rather huge redhead looking down at me good-naturedly. "Better watch where you're going or you'll run into someone extra nasty who'll turn you into a toad, or something." He winked at me and reached a hand down to help me up. I took it, though blushing furiously.
"If you keep doing that, your bottom'll go flat." I looked around at the second voice. The new arrival was the exact image of the first; the flaming red hair, built frame, mischievous smile and many many freckles.
He saluted me, and walked away. His twin- I assumed they were twins –grinned at me and left as well.
Still red in the face, and feeling quite stupid for not having said a word the entire time, I left to find my mother in the crowd.