Here's the first chapter of my new story! Hope you all enjoy, I've been writing it for a while with the help of my best friend- she came up with the idea for a punky-muggle-born-sassy wizard, and I did too! Thanks to Mortal Wonderland for beta-ing (:
"Just stop!" I hiss to my sister, who is currently pushing her elbow over into mine on the small armrest that separates me from her in the cramped economy seats of the plane. The whole ride over, she's been nothing but trouble, pissing me off, as well as a few other people. She keeps fidgeting in her seat and moving around the movie screens that are on the back of each seat.
"Shut up!" she grumbles back. I guess she kinda has a reason to be nervous- she's an absolutely horrible flyer. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," she says for the billionth time, clutching at the plastic barf bag that she hasn't needed. As if he senses all the commotion, Thor meows from his tiny carrier under the seat. Luckily, this airline accepted small pets so long as they're quiet. Thank Merlin catnip calms him down instead of riling him up. I lean down and pet him through the prison bars of the cage and give him some catnip and water before getting readjusted and trying to relax a little.
We had to drive an hour from where we live in San Jose, to San Francisco International. The whole family- excluding Matt- is coming with me out to London where we'll spend a few days as a little vacation before I have to leave for Hogwarts. Yippee.
Shopping in Diagon Alley with the whole family will be great. So much fun.
Not really.
The flight was about sixteen hours total and it was horrible. We left San Fran at 12:30 in the afternoon, and landed at 11:45 the next morning. I just made sure to pull an all nighter the night before we left so that I could sleep the whole plane ride and hopefully be a little less jet lagged when we landed. It didn't work at all. I was groggy, stiff, and I had a pounding headache that just wouldn't go away. Needless to say, I was a wreck when we landed and finally got our baggage; mine was the easiest to find since it was a nice, dark-wooden trunk with my initials decorating it rather than a suitcase. Yeah, I definitely got a few weird looks for it. No, I did not give a shit.
After a long taxi ride filled with honking and swerving in the crazy lunch time traffic, we got to the hotel and settled in. I just wanted to lay in the surprisingly comfortable hotel bed and sleep, but my mom and sister want to go shopping, so I am forced to go with them, as is my father.
"We might as well get my school shopping done- I've always wanted to go to Diagon Alley," I say before grabbing my bag and checking to make sure my money was there; I had some left over from the last school year, but I'd need to visit Gringott's to exchange some American money for the Wizarding kind… I also need to make sure that my family stays outside when I do that. My sister will ridicule them and my dad will probably want to take them in to a lab and examine them, which I'm sure they will not appreciate.
When our cab turns onto Charing Cross Road, I ask it to stop about halfway down the small street. My sister and I hop out and I check the street numbers before I start walking in the right direction.
"I'm so excited!" Clara gushes, linking her arm with mine. Her mood swings are so weird, but I'll happily take a cheery sister over a grouchy one. We get along really well when she's not in a bad mood, actually.
"Me too, I've never been here, remember?" I say pointedly.
"Well yeah, I know, but you've been to other magical shopping places," she says with an eye roll. I stop in front of a dingy-looking shop with a sign above the door that reads The Leaky Cauldron. Clara grimaces at the place and turns to me. "This is the place?"
I ignore her as we wait for my parents to catch up. When they ask the same thing I explain to them how it's just the entrance- the only way to get into Diagon Alley unless you Apparate or use the Floo. Considering I can't Apparate for another week, and there's no Floo Network that we can access, this is the only way in. I sigh and go through the door, holding it open for them.
The Leaky Cauldron isn't dirty or gross per se, but it's very old with outdated armchairs, tables, and decorations. It's also really dim and the paint on the walls is peeling. Not dirty at all, just dark and gloomy. Doesn't matter though, because I quickly ask where the entrance to Diagon Alley is and the bartender points me in the right direction.
We walk around a few tables, getting a few dirty looks from witches and wizards that are lounging around the place; damn purebloods are so judgmental.
The door on the wall next to the bar opens into a small courtyard with light filtering down from the sky above. The only things in the courtyard are a trash can and a broom- Not a flying broom, but the kind you actually use to clean. I pull out my wand from my purse and face the wall square on and tap the bricks, moving in a counter clockwise circle. We all stand together, watching in excitement as the first brick pushes itself back until a small hole is revealed. From there, the bricks clack and grind against each other in a rotating movement until an archway wide enough for two people to walk through side by side appears.
I eagerly step through, dragging my mom and sister behind me, leaving my dad to cautiously tap on the bricks before walking through. His glasses slide down his nose as he turns and scrunches his face up, staring as the arch closes up after us. I laugh and look forward, taking in the whole thing.
Shops line both sides of the narrow street, bells tingling as people come and go through the doors. Owls fluttered overhead, cooing and squawking, and Clara looks up before quickly covering her head in case one decides to shit on her. In the window of one of the shops near us is a bunch of odd silver things moving and spiralling around on little stands, and then a shop that sells quills and parchment. I still don't really understand why the Wizarding world uses parchment paper and quills still instead of binder paper and pens.
As we walk through, all of us taking it in stride, I look down at my ripped skinnies and a t-shirt with a flannel. I definitely feel out of place among all the robed witches and wizards. I should have worn mine, but they all have the crest of the Institute on them; I doubt anybody would appreciate that.
"Alright, um, robes. I need some new robes," I mutter, looking around for a shop. There was Madam Malkins and Twilfitt & Tattings, but seeing as everyone in the latter store looked snobby, I quickly decided that I'd rather go to Madam Malkins. Mom and Clara had wandered off, though they won't be able to buy anything with Muggle money. "I don't think it's such a good idea that they're alone," I say skeptically as dad and I watch them go into Magical Menagerie, a place that sells all sorts of magical animals. He looks at them and back at me, pushing his glasses up in the process.
"Would you like me to go with them?" he asks. I'm not so sure that would be a great idea either…
"Sure, why not?" I smile. "Oh wait! Here. Remember, A Galleon is about $7.50. A Sickle is 50 cents, and a Knut is about 5 cents. The exchange rate is really weird, but just tell them you're not used to using this currency. You'll probably get dirty looks, but hey, whatever," I say and give him a handful of coins for food or whatever they want to get.
"You sure Amy?" he says with raised brows. I don't ever give people money just because. Like, ever.
"You can pay me back, don't worry!" I say before turning in my converse and leaving him to my mother and Clara. Finally I can get something done! I go to Madam Malkin's and get five plain black robes for school.
"Don't ya need your house emblems on them?" she asks as she runs a measuring tape along my arms, torso and legs. I shrug and look at the options tacked up on the wall. Green and silver for Slytherin House; red and gold for Gryffindor; blue and bronze for Ravenclaw; yellow and black for Hufflepuff. The mascots for each are a snake, a lion, a raven, and a badger respectively.
"I'm doing a foreign exchange so I guess I'll be placed in a house when I get there," I say. Though Slytherin has always caught my interest: they're dark and mysterious, but most of them are assholes and pureblood. Definitely not Hufflepuff- they're too soft and sweet; so not for me. Maybe Ravenclaw if I could keep my grades up; I'm better with practical magic and life skills. Besides, who really needs to know the year that the first broomstick was created, or math? I mean, sure, I need to know how to count out measurements for Potions, but that's about as practical as it gets. Plus, I really hate math.
"Oh! Well, I'm sure you could get the emblems when you're sorted and there's a nice little shop in Hogsmeade that'll sew them in for you," she says with slight accent and a pat on the shoulder, letting me know she's done sizing me. "Where are you from?" She flicks her wand and my robes come floating from a room in the back.
"Uh," I say, not sure if she'd even know the place since she's a witch. "The United States. I live in California, right by San Francisco, I don't know if you know where that is," I laugh nervously.
"Of course! The place with the bay and the great red bridge?" she beams.
"Yeah, it's called the Golden Gate Bridge. Even though it's red." She laughs and shakes her head, muttering silly muggles under her breath. "Well, thanks for the help," I say, paying for the robes and leaving. Next stop is Flourish and Botts for my books. I already got a list of core classes for my seventh and final year at school, but not my exact schedule.
Considering the huge war- that thank God, Merlin, the Easter Bunny and Santa or whoever is out there- didn't really affect anybody in North America, the damage to Hogwarts was devastating. The whole place was practically in ruins. Tons of witches and wizards from all around came out that summer to help repair the place, though I know it's still got a long way to go. Thankfully they're still continuing on with the school year. I still wonder why they're starting a foreign exchange program this soon, but I'm also sort of grateful since it'll be my final year. It's going to be tough, I'm sure, but I hope that this year won't be completely horrible.
Old Voldy is dead, and most of his Death Eaters are rounded up and in prison, awaiting the Dementor's Kiss. PTSD must be a huge problem right about now, too. Why did I even want to go, the place is going to be a mess!
"Damn it," I mutter, walking into the shade of the buildings. I pull my medium-length dark red hair- yes, I'm a ginger (thanks to hair dye)- up into a bun and lean against the brick storefront, closing my eyes. "I can do this. It won't be so bad. Maybe everyone will just forget about it all…" Yeah, fat chance of that.
I take a few deep breaths before turning and continuing on to get my books. I will see this through to the end.
"Gin?" I faintly hear someone call out. People pushed by on both sides and I have to squeeze through between some stacked up crates and a group of young, annoying witches. I guess teenagers are the same, even in the magical community.
I feel a hand clamp down tightly on my shoulder and my hand flies to my wand in the side pouch of my purse. I have it out and pointed at the person who grabbed me- a boy about my age with dark hair and bright green eyes that looks really familiar. His smile slowly falls as he looks at me and takes his hand away, holding it up in defence. I raise my brows and shake my head expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
"Er, sorry, I thought you were someone else," he says with a shaky laugh. "Sorry 'bout that," he repeats. I slowly lower my wand and he lowers his hand, bringing it up to push his nerdy round glasses up his nose. When he does, his hair is jostled a little, showing a little bit more of his forehead. Above his right eyebrow is a very prominent scar. In the shape of a lightning bolt.
Oh God. Harry Potter, right here, right now, staring at me as I gape at him.
"Holy shit!" I whisper with wide eyes. I wish I could take out my phone and get a picture with him. He's a celebrity. He's Harry fucking Potter. He defeated the Dark Lord. He stopped a whole war. Well, he finished a war. A boy, only seventeen years old.
His wary smile drops a little when he realises that I recognise him. Not good.
"Um, hi. Sorry for waving my wand in your face," I say carefully. Why didn't he pull his wand on me? I guess after facing the ultimate bad guy, a sixteen year old girl with a wand isn't that intimidating.
"That's alright." British accent. Damn. Hot damn. "I startled you, it's entirely my fault," he smiles and I find myself grinning back. Okay, yes, I'm a little star struck. Who wouldn't be?
"Who did you think I was? Not many people have red hair, ya know," I say conversationally. Hopefully he won't leave; this is like a once in a lifetime chance to talk to him. I highly doubt he's going back to Hogwarts after all that's happened. "Well, except for your friends, the… Weasley's?" I say, trying to act like it took me a second to figure out who they were. I don't wanna seem like I know everything about him, even if it's all over The Prophet.
"Yeah, Ginny Weasley. Your hair's a lot darker red, though. I guess I just didn't notice it," he smirks, gesturing at my messy red hair piled atop my head.
"Oh, uh, thanks?" I say questioningly. He nods and we stand for a second in awkward silence. "Oh! Uh, I'm Amelia Tennant," I say, holding out my hand. He shakes it carefully but firmly, and I notice the lean muscles on his arms; nice.
"Harry Potter," he laughs, showing his teeth. I laugh too and nod my head.
"I know. Took me a minute, but yeah," I say.
"You're not from around here, yeah?" he says.
"I'm from the U.S. California, actually," I nod my head and scan the crowd before meeting his eyes again.
"Oh, I could tell. You have a terrible accent," he says.
"I have an accent?! You should hear yourself, man!" I laugh loudly, looking around again. I hope my parents are handling themselves fine.
"I'm sorry, I'm holding you up. It was nice meeting you, Amelia," he says with a nod.
"Oh, no it's fine! And call me Amy. My parents and sister came here with me, and, well, they're Muggles," I say. "I kind of just gave them some money and told them to stay out of trouble. And Knockturn Alley," I say sheepishly.
"You just let them go on their own? Aren't you worried?"
"Yeah, but I think they can take care of themselves." Harry nods and sticks his hands halfway in his pockets, his shoulders lifting and falling in a fidgety movement. "I'm hoping to get some of my school shopping done while they explore." His head snaps up and his hands leave his pockets.
"Is there anything I can help you find?" he says curiously.
"Looky here, the famous Harry Potter offering to help me shop for books. A dream come true," I say, holding my hands to my heart in a sarcastic way. He rolls his eyes and starts walking, looking back to see if I follow. Of course, I do.
"Where are we goin', Mr. Potter?" I ask.
"You said you need books. Seventh Year, right? I need to get my books, too," he says, making me stop momentarily before continuing before he notices. He's going back to Hogwarts?
"I didn't think you'd go back to graduate," I murmur, mostly to myself but he nods.
"Me neither. I figured I'd just work at the Ministry until I could start Auror training, but I sort of changed my mind. Going back for my N.E.W.T's and to graduate." Wow. We enter a small bookstore with tall, crammed in bookshelves and browse around for a bit.
"Ahh, well, good luck. My friend that was a year ahead of me just about hemorrhaged because she was so stressed about the tests last year," I say.
"You're not taking them?" he asks as I start grabbing the books I need.
"Oh, I am. I'm just not too worried. If I bomb it, I have my back-up plan. I did really well on my O.W.L's, so I can get a good job with that. Plus, I don't know if I even want to go into a magical profession," I say and back up to eyeball the purple velvet-covered book that I need. It's way higher than I can reach. "Can you?" I ask, looking from Harry to the book. Seeing as he's a little too short, he pulls out his wand and summons the book. It almost hits him in the face.
"Defeats Voldy, but can't summon a book without almost killing himself? Ouch," I say with a smirk. His lips quirk up in a semi-smile, something mischievous in his eyes. Before I know it the book is flown back up to the shelf from whence it came. Great.
"Oh, c'mon, dude!" I say in frustration. He smirks. "Ass." I pull out my wand and summon the book to me, which I could've done in the first place, really. Don't know why I didn't think of it.
"Don't make fun of me. I'm Harry Potter, you know. I wouldn't have let it really hurt you, though." Wow. That's so reassuring.
"Doesn't help my sore stomach," I mutter as I pay for my books, ignoring the cashiers 'have a nice day'.
"Rose!" the familiar voice of my father calls from a few shops away. I look up and wave.
"That's my dad, I gotta go," I say to Harry with a sad smile. "See you at school."
"Wait, did you get assigned to a House in your Hogwarts letter?" Oh, that.
"No, and I'm not really sure how this'll work. Madam Malkins said I might be sorted with the First Years?" I say, not sure if it is true or not. He nods, thinking on it.
"Yeah, that sounds right," he says. "Oh, and a tip for when you go up there; the Sorting Hat will place you wherever you want to go. Don't be afraid to tell it what you want," he says with a smile.
"Cool, thanks. See you at school, Potter!" I say with a small wave before turning and leaving, my cheeks blushing. I just spend a good half of an hour hanging out with Harry Potter. Damn, I'm lucky, I think as I head back to my parents, eager to get to school now that I've made a friend- a famous friend, no doubt.
Let me know what you think, xo