Burnt Toast
chapter two: meet the andersons
summary: when a nothing special know-it-all gets dropped in the middle of something extrodinary
Sally Anderson was in her room on this fine day on Sutton Drive. Hunched over her wooden desk in the west side of her room, her blonde hair fell into her eyes. Brushing it back, she glanced up, noticing the lovely day outside of her window. She gave a pleased grin and continued plucking things from her desk. She went from drawer to drawer, running her hands over everything, deciding what to take out and what to leave. Picking the last item from the last drawer, she closed it and walked over to her bed.
Gently placing the iteams in her blue trunk, she closed the lid, fastened the buckles, and slid it under her bed. Sally walked out of her room, down the stairs, past the grandfather clock, and into the kitchen.
"Mom?" she asked.
"Yes." a short woman with sandy hair and an apron answered.
"My trunk is under my bed so dad can bring it down and put it in the car" Sally announced.
"Ok. Go tell your brother it's time for dinner" Mrs. Anderson said.
"Cant we just let him starve" she wondered.
"Well we could, but the neighbors would be awfully curious as to where he went, dont'cha think?"
"We could tell them he went to summer camp." she suggested.
"Sally, its the 31st of August."
"Soooo?"
"Just go get Max, Sally. Jesus."
"Fine!" she exclaimed.
Sally walked out of the kitchen in a huff. Emerging from behind the sliding glass door she traveled through the garden behind her house, calling her brothers name.
"Max! Dinner!" she hollared. No answer.
"MAX! Its dinner time!" Still no answer.
She checked behind his rotten, old club house, but there was nothing there but his toy waterpistols and candy wrappers. She looked in all of his little hiding spots, but alas- no Max. Sally walked around to the front of the house. She glanced to the side and noticed that the garage door was cracked open. An evil smirk crossed her face.
"Got you." she mumbled to herself.
She croutched down and motioned over to the door. Looking through the opening she saw a skinny boy with sandy hair with an over-sized forehead and freckles deflating the air in the tires of her bike. He was chuckling like an arse, she mused to herself. Sally thrusted the garage door up and lunged herself onto the boy.
"Let go! Let goooo!" Max hollared.
"Listen to me you little wobbler, Ive been looking all over the place for you." she shouted
"Boo hoo. Let go!" he yelled.
"No!"
It seemed little Sally had young Maxwell in a headlock and was currently pulling his ear. Meanwhile back in the kitchen, Mr. Anderson had come home from a long day at work.
"Hello, dear." he grinned at his wife.
"Hi, honey." she beamed as she raised her cheek up for a peck.
"How was your day" he asked.
"Alright. And yours?"
"Eh...Tiring. How are the kids?"
"Well Max is off missing and Sally is trying to convince me that we should starve him to death." she sighed.
"Cheers." he toasted. "Did she finished packing her bags?"
"At that she did. Theyre under head bed." Mrs. Anderson replied.
"Alright, I'll get them" he assured. "Accio trun--"
"SAMUEL!" Mrs. Anderson shouted.
"What?" her husband asked.
"What did I say about magic in the house?! No magic in the house! What if the neighbors see?"
"They cant see anything, Barb" he said.
"Sam!" Mrs. Anderson sure did have a nasty look on her face.
"Fine, fine. Ill go get them by hand" he sighed and started to make his way upstairs.
Meanwhile, back in he garage, Sally was busy giving her little brother a lesson in manners.
"Get off of me Sal!" he order
"Make me arse." she instructed.
He kicked and he hollared. Max swatted at his sister, but she ducted her head and kept tugging on his head and stepping on his foot.
"Sally!"
"Sally what, wank?"
"Sally, please?" he whined.
"Fine." she released him.
The two walked out of the garage, through the maple door, past the grandfather clock, and into the kitchen kicking eachother the whole way. They pasted their father on the way who was carrying Sallys trunks down the dusted stairs with an annoyed look on his face.
"Im hungry." Max complained, pushing the hair out of his eyes.
"Dinners almost rea-- Max, what happened to your face?" Barbara Anderson asked.
"What?" he wondered, placing his hands on his face.
"Go look." she ordered.
Max walked over to the family mirror that was hanging on the other side of the kitchen. It was an antique you know. He starred at his reflection, which at this point in time happened to be a very read boy with bloodshot eyesand maroon freckles.
"What the hell, Sally?" he hollared.
"What did you do Sally?" her mother stressed.
"Nothing. He fell"
"No I didn-" he started, but stopped when he saw the menacing look in his sisters eye.
The Anderson family finally sat down to a nice family dinner. Mrs. Anderson was talking about how beautifully her daiseys were going, while the two siblings glared eachother down with a firey vengence. Mr. Anderson humored his wife with the occassional "Mhm's" and "Oh, lovely dear's." Looking up from his roast beef, Mr. Anderson addressed Sally.
"So Sally, are you excited to start another year at school?" he asked her.
"Oh my god, yes. I miss my friends so much." he beamed.
"What about your NEWTS? How are you gonna do on them" he question.
"Dad, please, Im in Ravenclaw." she laughed.
"Oh thats right I forgot. I suppose us Hufflepuffs just couldnt compare to the almight Ravenclaws" he mocked.
"Dad you were a Hufflepuff like a million years ago."
"Yea, but--"
"Would you two cease and disist talk of that place?" Mrs. Anderson asked harshly.
"Why?" Sally asked.
"Sally, I love you both. You know that, but I do not support your furtherment of that un-normalcy." she spoke.
"Honey, you could hardly call it unnormal." Mr. Anderson reasoned.
"No, Samuel, I really can. Floating things in the air and brewing poitions in a cauldron. You call that normal?!" she stressed.
"Yes." Sally chimmed.
"Well I dont. If you two want to explore your unnormalness then that is fine, but I dont not wish to hear about it. Is that clear?" she asked.
"But mo-"
"Is that clear, Sally?" she barked.
"Yes."
a/n: constructive critism is always welcome. please review.