So this annoying plot bunny has been in my head for FAR too long. It's now time to pull this story out the hat (pun most definitely intended). This first chapter might be a bit short and rough due to the fact of writing it at 2:00 AM. Ah well!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, besides my frightening IMAGINATION! Yippee!

"Wendy, sweetheart, it's time to get up! You've got a busy day ahead of you."

I groaned in response to my father, smothering my head under my pillow:

"Noooooo! Leave me alone!"

"Now Wendy," my father began. " We both know that the early bird gets the worm!"

Ugh, my father can be such a little bowl of sunshine in the mornings. Me? I'm more like a heaping helping of pessimism.

I rolled out of the source of my happiness and stumbled down to the kitchen. The boys would want breakfast, and apparently it was my job to see that they got it. I pulled out multiple pots and pans, setting to work on making a perfectly balanced breakfast for my perfectly wonderful brothers like a perfect older sister – oh who am I kidding? I pulled out three bowls and some milk. Hmm, let's see. Lucky Charms or Cap'n Crunch? I grabbed a box of Cocoa Puffs just as my father skipped out the door to work.

"Bye cupcake!" he chirped as he gave me a sunny smile and a quick wave. Stupid cheeriness on this stupidly beautiful morning.

Realizing I was standing in the kitchen with an angry scowl on my face, I walked over to the bottom of the stairwell and shouted,

"MICHAEL! JOHN! WAAAAKE UP!"

No response. I stomped up the stairs and into the nursery, eyeing the three beds crammed inside. Although I had moved out into my own room a few years ago, my parents had never bothered to do anything with my old bed, so more often than not I could be found snuggled in its worn sheets.

I walked up to a loudly snoring John, noting on how sweet he looked when sleeping. I smiled at him, put my hand on his arm, and then lovingly shoved him off the bed. He sat up in shock, his hands searching for his glasses and his bleary eyes searching for the culprit. Time to move on to Michael, who was gripping onto his stuffed Pooh Bear. He's slept with the silly old thing for as long as I can remember, and adamantly refuses to give it up. I resorted to tickling him awake.

Now you're probably wondering, why am doing all of these things? Why not let my mum take care of it? If you're expecting me to tell you my mother is no longer with us, you'd be right. She's in Paris right now on a business trip, so her "motherly duties" were pushed into my irresponsible lap. Her job requires her to travel, so I often have to take on the role of "mother" while I would much rather play the part of the immature sister.

Blah Blah Blah some time later…

"John, your chess club meets at the library this afternoon. Michael, you have a play date at a friend's. I have my fencing class this morning." I grinned as I said that last part. One day, these "silly classes", as my parents call them, would pay off, and I would smite my enemies in a glorious show of skill, talent, and gore (Can anyone tell me what foreshadowing means?)! Or, you know, I'll never use these so called skills and be labeled as even more of a freak at school.

"Why do we have all this stuff to do?" Michael whined. "I mean, summer has just begun and we can't even sleep in!"

"Oh you silly child!" I smiled at him. "Don't you know that the early bird gets the worm?"

Yes, yes, I know. A bit on the boring side. I'm not really liking it, BUT I AM DETERMINED IT SHALL IMPROVE.

Ages, you might ask? Wendy and Peter shall both be around 15 (16 just seemed too old), John is around 12 to 13ish, Michael is in the 6 to 7 range.

Please note that updates shall NOT be scheduled or anything of that nature.

Peace out girl scouts! :D

Potergirl321