Hi everyone! Thanks for the positive reviews!
This chapter covers the boy's POV's. No one guessed right!
Haha. Not one direction, but nice guess.
Enjoy, and make sure to leave a review with the listed feedback questions when you're done!
(reaching past the stars)
Cameron, or Cam, as he was recently preferring to be called, was sitting at the edge of his chair, at a diner in the lower half of Manhattan. It was sunny outside, and he had planned to spend the day with one of his friends, perhaps testing out that new video game or playing another game of soccer on the rugged, overgrown fields of Briarwood High. Instead, he had been dragged into some sort of supervision role of Sammi Harrington's fifth birthday party, moping as he cleared up the mess of coffee that had dribbled down his chin.
He cast a glance at the children beside him, letting out a sigh as he remembered how he used to be like them: young and childish, meanwhile ignoring the fact that he was still only eleven years young. Scribbling a few words into his notepad, Cam sets down the empty coffee glass onto the counter, with a few dollars and tips to pay the bill and waitress, who somehow took the opportunity to flirt with him, and threw her phone number out in the trash.
Cameron Fisher had always had the bad habit of trying to act cool.
So far, though, his ploy was working; recently, he had just snagged the exclusive friendship of the travel soccer league, that had been undefeated...ever since last Friday against the third graders from Oklahoma. To be fair to the Briarwood Boys, as they called themselves (maybe 'cause nobody really had heard of them, to make the "team" their own nickname), those third graders were cheaters.
Big. Fat. Cheaters.
"Hey, lighten up, already," Derrick grinned, catching up to Cam, who hastily shoved the Moleskin journal into one of the pockets of his leather jacket, and the pencil into his shoe, putting on what he hoped seemed like a carefree grin. Derrick raised an eyebrow, and Cam reverted himself back to his original nature, glaring at Derrick, who only rolled his eyes at him. "Fine, I'm sorry for making you look stupid by supervising at my sister's birthday party -but then again, you look stupid everyday-," Derrick snickered. "-in front of the whole town. Happy?"
Cam only walked a little quicker, down the busy Manhattan street.
"Shut it, Harrington."
When he wakes up the next morning, the sky is shining.
Cam stretches his arms out, and blinks open his eyes, feeling as though the sun is shining right down into his blue-green eyes; it feels like the utmost form of pure, and perfect happiness. He scribbles a few thoughts down in his journal ('cause that's what cool kids do), and tore his sheets off, eventually getting out of the blissful state of sleep, still feeling a little groggy.
Walking over the mirror, he brushed his teeth, and put a little gel in his hair, to make it "flop" the right way; he wasn't sure why it was too important, but Derrick said "it was for the ladies". Basically, that was somehow important.
There's a rap on the door, though -knock, knock, knock.
"Uh, who is it?" His voice is kind of rough, and the question comes out like Cam's a little, itty-bitty, and whiny kid (which, of course, he is anything but.). He tries to take the gel out of hair (his action is of no avail), because instead of getting that "cool kid" look, Cam just looks like a knock-off version of Danny Zuko, and of course, there's nothing worse than being a "wannabe".
Really, Cam has no clue where Derrick gets this "cool-kid phrases" from. He smirks, coming to the answer: Massie. He looks outside, for a moment, as if he's trying to entrance himself in some sort of daydream, because right outside his house, is a sycamore tree; it's tall and kind of narrow at the bottom, and it's probably the scrawniest tree in all of Westchester.
When he was young, Cam built in a treehouse.
Well, it was more of like his dad built a treehouse for him, but Cam pretended like he did all the hard work, because that's what cool kids actually do, and it was almost like a "meeting" place for three best friends: Cameron Fisher, Massie Block, & Dylan Marvil. Cam pretty much fell out of contact with the two girls after he turned around seven, and the treehouse was dismantled.
"Cameron Fisher!" Cam suddenly heard a crash downstairs, and gulped. Even though he was a cool kid, it didn't stop his mom from probably grounding him until he was thirty years old. "Come. Down. Here. Right. Now!"
Cam sighed, annoyed with this greasy mess that his hair had turned into, and wished that he had never tried to put on the hair gel in the first place, and threw on a rugged pair of jeans and a hand-me-down leather jacket over a plain white shirt (yeah. Cam really looked like Danny Zuko, right now.). Running down the staircase, and falling down on his knee, Cam toppled onto the hardwood floor, wincing, as his knee made the hard impact, and couldn't resist the urge to swear.
"Cameron Alexis Fisher!" his mother scolded, frowning a little as she realized what a mess that Cam had made with both the hardwood floor and his previously flat black hair. Composing herself, she motioned Cam towards the breakfast table, where there was a pitcher of orange juice, a few boxes of cereal, and some empty bowls next to their corresponding silver spoons, a new addition to the Corelle kitchen set. "Come eat breakfast."
"Nah, mom," he shrugged. "I'm gonna catch up with Derrick and Josh, later today." Grabbing an orange from the center of the table, and nearly knocking down the orange juice, Cam tried to leave the room, before seeing something that caught his eye.
On a normal day, Cam would have just left, ignoring the "something that had caught his eye", and today should have been no difference, until his mom shoved the item of interest into his hands: it was a letter. The funny thing was that it wasn't addressed to him; instead, it was addressed to Camilla Lexi Fisher. Ripping the envelope open, Cam groaned, knowing that this was probably just another joke from some jerk, or his friends (weren't they practically the same, exact thing, though?). "Mom. I don't really ca-"
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Fisher,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
He started laughing, until his mom looked down at him (which was quite an impressive feat considering that she was already two inches shorter than him), frowning, and snatched the orange out of his hands. "This isn't fine, Mister. You're a wizard," his mother spat, as if this was some sort of grievance, not a bloody joke.
"This is a joke, Mom," he said, in between bouts of laughter. "It isn't anything to cry over." He tried reaching for the cereal, but his mother took that away too; Cam raised an eyebrow. He knew his mom could sometimes get a little paranoid about jokes and things like that, but for how long would she have to overreact? He needed to go fix his hair.
"You're a wizard."
And, for some strange reason, as an owl came swooping into the room, and snatched the letter out of his hands, creating a burst of flames in which there was previously milk which also set his hair on fire, along with the fact that his leather jacket had been torn to shreds, Cam believed her.
The Harrington Estate
Westchester, New York
8:06 AM, July 30th
Sammi's blaring alarm clock awoke Derrick for the fifth time that morning. He threw his covers to the side, fed up with the annoying 'Hoot' from the owl clock. He didn't care if she was too excited for her birthday party later to breathe or sleep for that matter, there was no way his 11 year old body could sustain being awake for so long. On the other hand, it made his head ache to think of her cursed room and those glassy eyes watching his every move...oh, and the plastic Owl's eyes too. Yes, his little sister happens to be going through an 'owl' stage.
Soundlessly making his way down the hall, he threw open his sister's door and prepared himself to face a grumpy birthday-Sammi. But she was sound asleep and her alarm wasn't on. The 'hoot'persisted, a pulsating rhythm that trilled on through his head and ate away into his mind. He raised an eyebrow at his sister's sleeping figure but shrugged and closed her door quietly.
If it isn't her clock, what is it? Derrick pondered as he slipped down the grand staircase, hoping he was stealthy enough not to wake a soul. Not that it would matter anyway. God knows that the obnoxious sound would have aroused the neighborhood by then. He rubbed his puffy brown eyes, tired out of his mind. Dragging himself across the foyer in a sleepless daze, it's no surprise that he didn't notice the Barn Owl fluttering around the lofty space. And of course he looked up just as it released it's excrement onto his face.
His mouth agape in shock, he swiped a hand across the dung and flung it to the floor-but not before spitting all over the tile. Feet scuffing the marble, he walked backwards to the intercom, still keeping a watchful eye on the bird. "Mini, Mini are you there?" he begs, pressing the button over and over again.
Finally, her withering voice came on. "Derrick, what's wrong?"
"There's a bird in the house!"
There was a long pause. Eventually though, the static came back. "I'll notify your parents. Don't worry, we'll handle it," she assured him but it didn't calm his nerves. why is there an owl in the house?!
But instead of investigating further, he crawled back up the stairs and down the hall to his room with his head slumped forward. Sleep is bliss.
...
He didn't realize that he would sleep straight to the time of the party. By then, his parents were too rushed with the stress of it all to explain a thing. The Harrington's stood in the fanciest restaurant in Westchester. "Now Derrick, be sure to be on your best behavior," His mother warned, relaxing her left hand on her shoulder and pointing one stern finger on her right. "That means no tricks on your sister's friends."
"Alright, alright," he rolled his eyes and held his arms up in surrender. "I won't do anything. Besides, Cam will be here if that helps."
Mr. Harrington folded his arms and gazed down at his son. "Yes, Cam is a little more responsible than you. I'm sure this will do quite nicely."
"Blah-blah-blah. Who cares about responsibility anyway?" Derrick muttered to himself as he walked over to a secluded table in the far corner of the restaurant. He watched as his five year-old sister greeted her friends. The little girl had her blonde hair up in pigtails tied with bows and wore a frilly pink dress. Across the way, his parents were reading a letter with intent flickering in their eyes. Suddenly, he was being beckoned over. Groaning, he slid out of his seat and walked over to them.
Mr. Harrington was first to speak. "Derrick. We weren't very sure if this was the right decision but it's time."
Derrick slowed his pace and glanced around the room. "What is it time for?"
He looked at his mother. She had her head tucked down almost guiltily. "Time for you to know. Derrick, you're a wizard."
Keeping a straight face for as long as he can, Derrick held his breath to the point where his face turned purple.
"Joshua! You have a letter!" Josh groaned, ignoring his mother as a blaring Game Over flashed across the screen of his new PSP. Stupid game. The PSP had been a gift from his grandparents, along with various other imported treats and cool stuff, generally from England.
Unlike other families, Josh's was pretty strange; he was well aquatinted with his father's family but a large portion of his mother's family was still unknown to him (apparently living in Australia?) and hearing from her parents was surprising, not to mention slightly mysterious. But...by what he'd learnt, his grandparents were lounging by stacks and stacks and stacks of money. So as long as they were generous and giving, Josh was pretty much fine with everything.
Beep. The sound turned his attention back to the game and a few clicks later, Josh was back on track against Manchester United.
"Josh!" The sound of footsteps were coming closer and closer and something told him mom wouldn't be too happy to see her son fooling around when he promised her he would be doing homework. Sighing, Josh thew a curtain over the TV, tossed his controls under his bed, fell back on the couch, grabbing a random book along the way. The door flew open, and his mother floated in, an eerie smile on her face as she beamed at her oldest son.
"Your letter, honey." She tossed him a bland envelope, the words Mr. Hotz inked in emerald green.
Josh let the envelope fall to floor, still irked by his loss of game time. "It's 2013, mom. Don't they know about emails? Or Facebook? Twitter? Tumblr? Instagram? Anything?"
Mrs. Hotz only sighed in response, crossing her arms primly and looking down in defeat, the previous light in her eyes fading slightly; something which caused Josh to feel guilty instantly. "Sorry. I'll read it." He ripped open the envelope, his messy hands leaving orange-dust stain marks on the letter. It was pretty long, lines and lines of loopy, slightly slanted handwriting. Not printed.
Josh blinked and returned back to letter, his eyes scanning the words for the third time. Nope. It still said Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After two more tries, he grew frustrated and glowered at his mother who looked positively ecstatic, almost bouncing with joy. "So?"
"What is this? Some kind of practical joke?" The paper crumpled slightly under his tight grip. "Please tell me you didn't make me loose my game for nothing."
"No, of course not." His mother sighed. "You're a wizard, honey."
"I'm a what?"
"A wizard." She repeated.
"Oh great, now my mother's gone completely senile." Josh mumbled. "What the hell will the guys on the soccer team think? I've already switched schools twice in one year."
"They won't think anything at all." Mrs. Hotz answered. "They're wizards too, after all."
"What?!" Josh shifted his weight.
"See, I'm good friends with the Harringtons. That's why we moved here. We were expecting the letters."
"You're not kidding? Derrick... we're magical?"
A nod from his mother was all he needed to settle that question. Problem was, there were still several hundred bouncing around in his head.
"Anyway, we leave for London on the 13th. Enjoy the time you have left in Westchester." His mother added. If Josh had not been dazed by the news, he may have noticed the screech of a passing owl, already back en route to Hogwarts. His future school. His future home. His future, period.
How did you like that one? Was it good?
Here's the list of who wrote what on the last chapter. Check your answers!
Massie & Massie/Claire - splendeur
Alicia - fanficfanticgurl
Dylan - Ailes Du Neige
Claire - keep calm and sparkle
Kristen - xoxo Starry-eyed
This chapter?
Cam - Ailes Du Neige
Derrick - xoxo Starry-eyed
Josh - dancing when the rain falls (finished by splendeur)
Feedback!
- Are the chapters too long, too short or okay?
- Who was your favorite POV of this chapter?
(r .. p .. t .. s)