A score of years of since gone by,
Yet I bemoan him still;
He used to call me Bob and I
Was wont to call him Bill.
-Robert Service
"Old Crony"

The chattering of the birds in the tree branches outside of her window alerted her to the fact that it was daylight. The vibrant rays of light pouring in from her window only helped to enhance the fact. Yet, she stayed abed willing the day to go away.

Stifling a yawn, she rolled over onto her back, her arms coming up to cover her eyes. She always envied the birds for their graceful embrace to the morning's bloom; she had never been a morning person and probably would never become one. Not that she was complaining; the night held far more interesting creatures than broad daylight.

"Carla Marie Finnegan!" she heard her mother's voice filter up from below stairs. She stifled a groan as she rolled onto her side to face her bedroom door. By the sounds of it, Mother and Father had gotten into another tiff the previous night, and Mother was still feeling the after-effects of it. As much as she hated the idea, she wished they would divorce already. The tension within the house was nearly unbearable, and it made her grateful to her yearly retreat to Hogwarts.

Hogwarts!

Gasping, Carla glanced up at the analog alarm clock sitting on her bedside table. She let out a whispered curse and bolted out of bed. No wonder her mother's voice held a tinge of annoyance; she was always complaining about being responsible for Carla's wake-up time, saying that she needed to become more responsible for her actions—especially if she intended to greet the world on her own in two summers, which she did. But it wasn't her fault if the blasted Muggle machine failed to alert her to the time! She had set it last night—she knew she had. Glaring at the thing, Carla grumbled, "You will be the death of me."

She hastily pulled on a pair of jeans and a worn T-shirt as a silent string of complaints ran through her head. Not caring about how her coffee-brown hair looked, she quickly tied it back into a high ponytail and ran out of her bedroom. She knew she had everything she needed for school downstairs; this sort of thing happened every year, so she knew to be prepared. Heart pounding, she skidded to a stop inside of the small kitchen and dining area of her home.

Her mother was standing in front of a steaming stove, her arm hastily flipping something in the black frying pan situated over one of the burners. Her mother was a Muggleborn; even though she knew magic, she insisted the "old fashioned" ways, as her father termed it, were still better. She never cooked with magic, but she instead did it all by herself. Carla couldn't taste the difference between Muggle and Magical, but she wasn't about to enter that argument.

Carla had gotten her looks from her mother, her Italian heritage playing the main role in the shaping of her features. Her mother's dark brown hair was tied high with a yellow ribbon into a ponytail that swung gracefully between her shoulder blades. A yellow apron—her mother's favorite, Carla knew—was tied about her waist, stained from the years of use. She wore a white t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, slippers donning her feet.

Carla turned her head and found the lone male residing within the household. Her father, as usual, was sitting at the dining table. He had a mug of steaming coffee sitting before him with a copy of The Daily Prophet held open before him. Carla couldn't discern the section he was reading, but she guessed it was Sports. Her father had a love for them, even though he was never any good at playing. She figured it was his envy that kept him glued to every sports event imaginable, a topic of her parents' many disagreements. Carla moaned; she refused to dwell on that subject.

Gray streaks had started to take command of her father's short, unyielding black hair. It was combed back away from his face, emphasizing his piercing dark brown eyes against his fair skin. He'd always been a hard man, never allowing a soul to get too close—unless it was Carla. She knew he had a soft spot for her, and she used it to her fullest advantage. Still, he was a man she never wanted to cross.

Walking over to her father, she leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his left cheek. "Morning, Pops," she said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster. It was hard for her to feel anything but anxiety about being rushed. Repeating the greeting to her mother, she reached around the woman's middle and gave her a hug. She spied a growing pile of bacon sitting on a plate on the counter next to the stove. Grinning impishly, she grabbed a piece and hurried away before her mother could react.

"Carla!" she heard her mother groan behind her. Before she could respond, the loud chirping of a car's horn resounded from the street in front of their house. Carla's mother glanced out of the window situated above the kitchen sink and waved to the person on the other side. "The Montgomerys are here," she remarked as she turned back to her daughter.

Not a moment later, sporadic knocking filtered in from the living room. With an ecstatic grin growing on her face, Carla shoved the remainder of the bacon into her mouth and rushed to the front door. She grabbed the handle and peered out the peep hole. A black circle concealed most of the outside world, pale skin outlining the eye. Shaking her head, she pulled open the door and stood to the side.

The first girl, the one that had been peering into the peep hole, nearly fell face-first onto Carla's tile living room. She'd been propping herself against the door, Carla thought wryly, as she watched her friend regain her balance. Ryan Lee, one of Carla's best friends, was tall, towering almost half a foot above Carla—who was short herself, to her dismay. Ry's normally pencil-straight black hair had a light layer of waves in it, its edges flaring out away from her face. Her slanted black eyes were lit with mirth as she reached over and snagged Carla in a giant hugged.

"Carls! It has been too long!" she said into Carla's shoulder.

"It's barely been two months," a voice said from behind Ry. Carla glanced over Ry's shoulder and grinned at another of her best friends, Brittney Montgomery. She returned the smile and waved, flicking her curly blonde hair from her face. Her medium-length hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, the shorter ringlets falling out to frame her round face. Her blue eyes mirrored the mirth Carla felt as Ry released her from her grasp.

"Two months too long!" Ry exclaimed, her stance akimbo. "It feels like it was forever ago that we stepped off the Express last month."

Footsteps sounded from the far end of the room. Carla turned to see both of her parents coming to a stop just inside the room. Her mother causally leaned against the wall with her arms gently folded across her chest, a smile on her face. Her father, on the other hand—typically serious—had his hands in his trouser pockets, not a glimmer of amusement showing on his face. He wasn't upset, Carla knew; that was just his normal stance. She sighed.

"You all ready?" a third voice came from the doorway. Mr. Montgomery, Brittney's dad, resembled his daughter almost to a T. He had a full head of curling blonde hair and shining blue eyes. He was thin, tall, but he always wore a smile on his lips. He glanced towards Carla's parents and waved. "How've you been, Anna? Roger?"

Carla's father nodded in acknowledgment while her mother beamed. "We've been well, thank you. How've you been, Edward? Is Evelyn with you?"

"She's out in the car," he nodded. As if on cue, a car horn sounded from the street. Carla looked out to see another blonde leaning over to the driver's side of the vehicle, waving excitedly. Brit's father chuckled. "That'd be her. Not to rush you or anything, but we are running a touch behind schedule. Is this yours?" he asked as he walked over to Carla's trunk.

"Yep," she responded as she followed, picking up the bag she'd placed on top the night before. She watched as he hefted her trunk and carried it out the door. She stared after him, feeling suddenly morose. For the sixth time, she was preparing to leave for Hogwarts. For the sixth time, she would say goodbye to her parents. She would experience this moment only one more time before her time at Hogwarts was over. Suddenly, she didn't want to leave. She didn't want the new year to start in fear that her final two years would proceed at a faster rate than she wanted.

"We'll wait for you in the car, Carls," Brit said as she turned to follow her father.

"And please, do hurry," Ry added, a smirk on her face, as she followed her friend.

Carla grinned to herself. Didn't want the school year to start? She was eager as ever!

She quickly walked over to her parents, reaching up to give them both a hug. Her father managed to slip a hand out of his pockets to somewhat return the favor while her mother was far more enthusiastic. Just as quickly, she pushed out of their embrace and started for the door.

"'Bye!" Carla shouted over her shoulder. "See you guys next summer!" She tried to hurry past her mother, but the older woman was quicker. She had Carla by the forearm in a tight lock, jolting her to a stop. A slight grin flirted with her lips, but there was a stern look in her eyes.

"I know I don't have to worry about you," she said in a calm voice; "you tell me so every summer. But I do, you know that. I do love you, after all." She leaned down and gave her daughter a swift peck on the cheek and enveloped her in another tight hug. "Don't do anything stupid, all right?" She released her daughter, tousling Carla's hair as she did. "We'll see you next summer."

"I love you, too, Mum," Carla said softly, giving her mother an appreciatory smile. A car horn beeping from the street pulled Carla back away from her mother and reminded her of what she was late for. She gasped and turned to run out the door.

"Oh!" her mother shouted after her. "And don't have too many of those stupid frog chocolates you're so fond of! They'll give you a stomach ache!"

"Okay, Mum! I'll see you in ten months!" She slammed the door behind her and jogged toward the waiting car. Sliding into the backseat, she grinned at her friends—who were both glaring at her.

"Jeez, what took so long?" Brit asked after a pause.

"Seriously, if we miss the Express because of you, I won't speak to you again!" Ry said from Brit's other side, her arms folded across her chest.

"You're such a liar, Ry. We're attached at the hip—well, Brit's hip, in this case—and that'd be a pretty lonely existence for you," Carla responded with a grin.

"Yeah, well, I'd put in a good effort," Ry responded softly, turning to face the window. Even with her head turned, Carla could make out the makings of a smile on her friend's lips in the girl's reflection.

"You're not going to miss the Express," Brit's father interjected from the driver's seat. "We've got plenty of time to spare."

"Anyway, I've got a pre-Express tradition in my bag," Brit said as she reached down to the floor by her feet. A slight rustling noise wafted up, and then was followed by the sound of candy wrappers. Brit sat up with three Chocolate Frogs in her hand, an exciting gleam in her eyes. "First Chocolate Frog of the school year, anyone?"

"Oh, thank God you're on top of that Brit," Carla said with a relieved sigh. "If it were left up to me, we'd be forced to wait for the Trolley Lady to come through with her cart, and you know how long of a wait that could be. I don't think my nerves could wait that long." Unwrapping the candy, she popped it in her mouth and savored the treat. "Who ever invented these should receive a knighthood or something."

"Don't you ever read the cards?" Brit asked as she unwrapped her own chocolate.

"No," Carla responded with a shrug; "does he have one?"

"I don't know; probably."

"Speaking of cards," Ry asked as she examined her own, then quickly glancing up at Carla; "do you want yours?" Carla handed hers over without responding, having no desire to keep what she had no use of. Ry turned her face to Brit. "And you?"

"No, I'm normal; I keep them just like you."

"So be it," Ry responded, sitting back in her seat. "But you know who to talk to when you are in the mood to talk trade." The two girls occupied themselves with their newly acquired cards. Carla grinned to herself and turned to watch the moving scenery outside. So far, the school year was off to a great start.