Disclaimers: Okay, listen up cause I'm only going to do this once! I don't own Harry Potter or the characters. The other people belong to themselves. I'm not getting paid to write this (though donated reviews are always appreciated) and currently I'm in financial debt with my mother after I bought the Ranma ½ box set of season one.
Harry Potter and the American Sisters
Chapter One: Weirdness Abounds
"Time to get up," my mother said, pulling me out of my dream-like state.
"Alright," I mummered, sitting up. I got out of my bed, not even bothering to glance at the clock. I knew it was eleven o'clock. You see it was a Saturday, which means I get to sleep in, but Mom never lets me stay asleep past eleven, it ruins my sleeping pattern or something.
As soon as she was satisfied that I wasn't going back to sleep, my mom left the room, probably to go wake up my little sister Chelsey. Yawning, I made my way over to my painted white dresser and pulled out my clothes for today: blue flares and a light blue shirt that had a depiction of a baby angel with a crescent moon in the background. While I changed out of the violet nightgown I couldn't help bout feel I was missing something. Something was out of place, but what? With this feeling of uncertainty I headed over to where my stereo rested upon a black coffee table. Behind the stereo was a hung up mirror. I grabbed my hairbrush and started to run it through my gold mane, fighting out my thousand and one tangles. Finally, when my brush could run through my hair without a snag I glanced at my reflection in order to make any corrections on the style and stopped.
A child, no older than eleven stared back at me. Thinking I might perhaps be hallucinating it I rubbed my eyes and looked again. My familiar blue eyes stared back from that oh so young face. This just wasn't possible; I was seventeen not eleven! I pinched myself in my panic and was rewarded with a sharp pain. It seems that it wasn't a dream. "Oh, boy."
In amazement I stared at myself, studying the appearance of this younger me. My hair, I noticed, was a lot lighter in color, there wasn't as much brown mixed into the gold. My face was smooth, instead of covered in pimples. I apparently hadn't gotten to that wonderful part of puberty. If I remember correctly, eleven was the age I first started wearing a bra. I would estimate that I was 5'4" tall, only a couple of inches from my final height. I suppose I should be grateful I hit my growth spurt early, otherwise I would have to adjust to being greatly smaller. The greatest difference I noticed and the one that most pleased me was that I no longer needed glasses to see clearly. I had to wonder a little about this for I had been wearing glasses since I was nine, but this elven-year-old me didn't.
A scream snapped me out of my thoughts. "Chelsey," I muttered before running into the room next to mine.
My sister, a few years younger than her true thirteen, was sitting on her bed as she stared with shock at her bedroom mirror. I called her name five times before her blue eyes moved to capture mine. Short, dusty blond hair framed her small face. "Jennifer?" she asked in a hesitant voice.
"Yeah, it's me," I confirmed, noticing my voice was now more lyrical and higher.
"H-how?" Her young eyes implored me to explain this sudden fountain of youth trick to her.
I sighed. "I don't know," I admitted.
Silence reigned for a minute or two before Chelsey began to speak again. "I-I don't think its just us being younger. Mom was in here earlier and she didn't once notice how little I was."
"This is like an episode of the 'Twilight Zone,'" I commented, as I processed this new information.
"Well then!" I said in a happier voice, pulling Chelsey to her feet. "Get dressed and we'll go investigate this matter."
"Alright," my sister said, a small smile alighting upon her face.
So I waited outside her door as she changed out of her pale blue pajamas. When she came out she was dressed in black pants, a sparkling silver shirt, and a black sweater-coat. "So what now?" she asked.
"Now we go to see Mom."
Our mother wasn't that hard to find. She was in front of the computer; doing her finances. As soon as she entered the kitchen we were assaulted by the meows of our cats. The biggest (and fattest) was my black and gray tabby Astrid. The other was white and brown calico that belonged to Chelsey by the name of Luna. Stumbling over the furballs I went to the pantry and pulled out some cat food, which I used to fill up their bowl. As soon as food touched the Tupperware the felines were scrambling to get to the food. I put up the bag of cat food and shut the pantry door. My mother was looking at me with a frown on her face. "Your cat bit me," she told me, disgruntled, "again."
"She just wanted you to pay attention to her," I explained.
"She's your cat, you're suppose to take care of her," she muttered.
I had to hold back a grin. My mom wasn't too happy about having pets in the house. The only reason she even agreed was because she knew how distraught Chelsey and I were over the death of our beloved Cocker Spaniel dog, Lex. We'd tried to breed her and she had miscarried. I remember that I had woken up that morning for school and had walked into the kitchen for breakfast. Lex laid in the corner of the kitchen on top of my old blanket that had been given to me by my grandmother. Her breaths had come out in shallow gasps. My mother and father were standing by her. There were tears on Mom's face. "She's dying," my mother had cried. Then…I don't want to remember the rest, it hurts too much.
Chelsey tugged at my sleeve to get my attention. Silently, she pointed at the kitchen window. I looked out of the class and saw a brown owl sitting on the window's seal. "Mom," I said in a voice that demands people's attention.
She gasped as she caught sight of the owl, which by this time had started to tap on the glass with its beak. "It's holding something," Chelsey pointed out.
Sure enough as soon as I looked I noticed two white envelopes in its talons. Without thinking, I strode forward. My mother said something but I didn't hear her as I pulled the window open. The owl flew in, dropping the envelopes in my hand before landing on the back of a chair. I looked at the writing on both envelopes.
Miss J. Kitchens
2nd Bedroom on the Left
108 Partridge Trail
Warner Robins, GA 31088
United States of America
Miss C. Kitchens
1st Bedroom on the Left
108 Partridge Trail
Warner Robins, GA 31088
United States of America
I handed Chelsey her letter before I opened the envelope of mine, totally ignoring Mom. My blue eyes widened as I read the envelope's contents.
Dear Miss Kitchens,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Confirmation of receiving letter must be sent as soon as possible. A representative of the school will meet with you as soon as the confirmation letter is received. A list of supplies that you will need before school starts is enclosed. We very much look forward to receiving you as a part of the new generation of Hogwarts' heritage.
Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titallandos
I snatched Chelsey's letter and quickly read its contents. They were identical to my own. "Hey!" Chelsey protested.
"I just wanted to see if yours was the same." They were, down to the enclosed list of supplies.
First year students will require:
sets of plain work robes
plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
pair of dragon-hide gloves
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
1. "The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)" by Miranda Goshawk
2. "A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi" by Phyllida Spore
3. "A History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot
4. "Magical Theory" by Adalbert Waffling
5. "A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration" by Emeric Switch
6. "Magical Drafts and Potions" by Arsenius Jigger
7. "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" by Newt Seamander
8. "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection" by Quentin Trimble
All students must be equipped with:
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass of glass or crystal phials
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions
I looked at my sister before handing Mom the letter. "This isn't possible," was the only thing I could say.