This Author’s Note is quite long. Brace yourself. It would be helpful to read this if you intend on reading my story, but you don’t need to if you don’t want to. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.
Madd Spammer here. Back in the beginning of April, when I first came to FF.N, I posted a long story that didn’t have a title yet (I called it An As Yet Untitled Fic), which was followed by a second posting soon after. Since then, there weren’t any updates, and I had almost completely abandoned the story. Well, guess what! I’m starting to write it again, slowly but surely! And there was much rejoicing! *waves a little flag* You see, the story is mostly mine, but there are some parts that Draca helped me write, and we still brainstorm for the story together. So I HAVE to give her some credit. Besides, she’s IN IT!
So, what this big long explanation is leading up to is that I’m re-posting the fic (with much editing and some addition) in parts, which will be MUCH easier to read. The file for the first part was over 100 KB, as I recall, and it’s a pain to read that all at once. I’m going to take down the parts posted on my name, because those are really uneven, and why have them there if I’m posting the stuff here?
By the way, there might be some background information I should include before people read the story (which is still untitled, but Draca and I are working on that!). First of all, the main characters in the story are NOT fictional. They are my three best friends and I (Mel in the story). In case you don’t already know, Draca is Meryl, and then there’s Ellen and Rachel. The four of us make up the Canyon Crew Minus Two. That’s a little name I came up with for us because the Canyon Crew is really six people, but more often than not, only the four of us are together. The other two may make an appearance later in the story, but I highly doubt it (there’d be practically no way to work them into it). We got the name Canyon Crew from our favorite ride at Dorney Park, Thunder Canyon, which is a river rapids ride. Remember Dorney Park. *grins mysteriously*
And now for a little bit of background information about us.
Me. Mel. Melly. Melanie. I think I go by all of those names in this story, but I’m not sure. I’m one of the two narrators of the story. Now, how can I talk about myself without being completely conceited? Ah, that’s easy for me. I’m the complainer of the group, and the most energetic, at least that’s what I think. I also tend to over dramatize (as does Draca) and anticipate that things are worse than they really are. Somebody has described me as “someone out of the Brady Bunch,” but I don’t know where that came from. No matter how much I deny it, I’m the goody-goody. As for physical description (this IS important in the story, I’m not just saying it for the heck of it), I’m around 5’3” in height. My eyes are a really cool blue, and they have a little ring of tan around the pupil. Yes, tan. Danielle (one of the two Canyon Crew members that isn’t in the story) said that in English class once when we were describing each other, and she caused quite a stir in class (“TAN?! No one has TAN in their EYES!”). And as for my hair, it’s naturally a dark blonde that sometimes appears brown, but in January I colored it a reddish color. It was supposed to wash out in a month, but it doesn’t seem to have, because my hair still has a reddish tint. Of course, in a picture from October my hair looked a bit red (just in the picture though… odd!). No curls for me, my hair is fine and completely straight. But it’s nice and soft! And like I said about my height, since I’m 5’3”, that makes me pretty small, but still athletic. I’m not good at being modest, so I’ll come right out and say it. I’m skinny. Not anorexic skinny, but still, pretty thin. Anyway, I think that’s about all you need to know about me for the time being. Oh, by the way, I love to sing, and I have a slight obsession with the movie Empire Records. And all Mel Brooks movies.
My take on Harry Potter stuff (this section is important for each person) – I really like Ron, okay? I’d probably have a bit of a crush on him if he were real. And I like Hermione because she’s really smart, like me (not to brag, but I’m in all honors classes, and I had 100 average for the year in one of my classes), and I guess the goody-goody thing. As for the other characters, I haven’t much of a take on them.
Meryl. Draca. Beatlette. The Evil Doctor Kopy. The only name out of those three that actually appears in the story is Meryl. At least, so far. Meryl is quite a character, if you don’t already know that. She tends to freak out a lot, and when she has psychic visions of horrid things, she runs into the nearest room and slams the door. Even if it’s a bathroom. Now, see, I wanted to try to categorize us all as something, like I did with myself (the complainer), but I can’t say anything except the psychopath, but we’re all psychotic. She’s a procrastinator, but we all pretty much are that, too. Of course! The Beatle Freak! Well, we all like The Beatles, but she does more than us. Anyway, when I started writing this story, she hadn’t really gone into full Beatle obsession mode. She was still in obsession mode with Harry Potter (don’t worry, she never drops obsessions, they just go unnoticed sometimes) at that time. That’s the problem with this story – it’s taking so long to write that we’ve changed a bit. Now, physical description. Meryl is tall. Very tall. At least to me, but I’m short. She’s got long curly red hair that she always complains about. She hates it, but I like it (probably because it’s not mine). And brown eyes. And she does the eyebrow thing. You know, the eyebrow thing!
Meryl’s take on Harry Potter stuff – She likes Draco Malfoy. A lot. In case you haven’t noticed! And she thinks that Goyle is gay. A couple of her favorite characters other than Draco are Remus Lupin and Tom Riddle. There’s others, but I can’t keep track.
Ellen. Keich Da Geek. My mom thinks that she’s a bit on the quiet side, but that’s not quite right. Ellen is the sarcastic one. Well, we’re all sarcastic, but her sarcasm stands above the rest of ours. I can’t really think of much to say about her, because I can’t think of anything other than her sarcasm and all the sports she plays. She’s always doing something. She and I have played on the same soccer team in a youth association (which her mom has been coaching) for three years in a row (starting fourth in August), and this spring we played on the school team. She’s also in basketball and swimming. She’s about as tall as Meryl, and she has blue eyes. Her hair is naturally blonde, but she’s got artificial intelligence. Yup, her hair is reddish. It’s gone through many different shades… Blood red, bright orange, and I think it’s somewhere between the two right now.
Ellen’s take on Harry Potter stuff – I don’t really know. But I DO know that she likes Neville.
Rache. Rachel. Alice. Da Mole. Rachel is definitely an individualist. Some might describe her as a freak (and we do, in a friendly way) because of the way she dresses and stuff. But hey, she’s just expressing herself! Her style is really cool, because it is ORIGINAL, unlike all the copies of Britney Spears and Sarah Michelle Gellar (those are just the first two famous people I could think of that people would copy, and I’m sure that there’s much better examples). But, anyway, she is the sweetest person. A great listener when you have problems (I should know… oyyy…). She’s definitely not the kind of person to talk behind your back, or even talk badly about anyone at all. She wouldn’t hurt even a fly. Well, maybe a fly if it were buzzing around and annoying her… you know what I mean! Her house is like a second home to all of us. It’s been dubbed Canyon Crew headquarters. Rachel’s somewhere around the height of Ellen and Meryl, and I’m not really sure which one of them is the tallest. I think Rachel has green eyes, and she wears glasses. Her hair is dyed red, kind of a cross between mine and Ellen’s (it’s not quite as bright as Ellen’s, but not quite as light as mine), but quite often she has streaks of other colors in it. Magenta, green, orange, blue, you name it, she’s done it. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that she wears gigantic pants. You know, JNCO style. She and I used to be obsessed with those, but after I while I lost interest in the skater thing. I’m not saying she’s a skater. I’m just describing Rachel!
Rachel’s take on Harry Potter stuff – I don’t know. I’ll find out! I think she likes Harry.
In the story, there are also a few other characters that are real people, in addition to the Canyon Crew Minus Two. So in this section I’ll describe them. I know I should do this in the author’s note for each part, but I’m doing it now, because otherwise I’ll forget. I tend to do that. The people are in order of appearance
Kris Fried – I know Meryl doesn’t want me to say this, but she used to have a crush on him. That’s semi-important. You could get by reading the story without knowing that. But you DO need to know that those two have a strange rivalry, or SOMETHING. He was in the running for Class Clown this year (that would be 9th grade – all of the Canyon Crew and the guys from our school are going to be going to 10th grade at the time that this story takes place), but lost to somebody else. What a dork. We pretty much hate him.
Ryan Sarko – Oh man, don’t even get me started on him. I hate him “with the fire of a thousand suns” (that’s from 10 Things I Hate About You – one of my many favorite movies). Really. I do. For some reason, Meryl, Ellen and Rachel seem to be on somewhat good terms with him sometimes. Must be a Bus 14 thing. He’s a jerk. That’s all I can say. Dumbass. Hate him. It was bad enough to make fun of me because of who I’m going out with, but of course he HAD to do it when we were broken up and I was already in a bad mood. I hate Sarko.
Chris Gore – It doesn’t mean anything, but when I was looking in the yearbook to see if Fried was voted class clown, I saw that Gore was voted Best Dressed. Woo hoo. A tad bit of sarcasm there. Guess what – we hate Gore, too! Him and his stupid bleached blonde hair. Of course, he doesn’t have it anymore. He’s finally letting his natural color grow back. And guess what it is… RED! Not that that matters.
Mr. Hannis – When we were in 7th grade, he was the health teacher. Him and his stupid Susie Smoker doll. Damn thing made me sick and I had to go home from school. But he ditched Salisbury for Wilson, I think to coach football. Football. *rolls eyes* He lives just down the street from Rachel.
Did I mention that Meryl, Rachel and Ellen live very close to each other? Yeah, I’m the one that lives the farthest away. To get up there, I have to walk up a hill, along a busy street, ACROSS the busy street, up another hill, along a road, and then up another hill. The last two hills are streets, but, yanno, they go uphill. Those directions were to Rachel’s house, actually. For Meryl’s house, I would just keep going up the first hill/street (the first hill in my trek isn’t a street, it’s actually a parking lot for 2 bakeries and an Italian restaurant), and for Ellen’s I would keep going along the road for about a half-mile. Okay, back to the characters that are real people.
Linda – I think in the story I do say that she’s Ellen’s sister. The two of them look quite a bit alike, but they won’t admit it. I think Linda is 17, and I know that she’s going to be a senior (now and when the story takes place). Her hair is really blonde. Almost white. I’m not sure if it’s natural or not. Linda is really cool, though. After all, she drives the Volvo!
Oh, what do you know! Those are all the people I have to talk about. But, anyway, I also have to clarify one thing that I say in the story. I say something about not being able to ambush “sleeping, well, not-so-beauty.” In that, I refer to on the bus home from a school trip to Williamsburg, VA (it was a tour bus, thank God), one of our classmates fell asleep on his friend (he was also asleep), and everyone was taking pictures of him. Eventually the camera flashes woke him up, but it sure took a while.
Meryl's actual words of wisdom: Hey, peoples, it's me, Meryl, adding a bit to this already gargantuan author's note just to say that all you need is love (Mel speaking – See! Beatle freak! I told you!). Now c'mon, how many saw that coming? Well technically...not MY words... but anyway. OK, for my OWN words, let's see...hmmm... well, never make yourself into soup. Stay away from fiendish thingys. WAIT! I'm getting a vision! I see... I see...the number three...and... DRAGON PANTS!!
*~*~*~*
And now for the Disclaimer (can you hear the dramatic music?): Everything from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. We don’t want to list everything, because Mel finds that to be redundant.
Dead yet? We hope not. Now, go, enjoy my fic!
A/N: And so it starts! The first part of the story! Isn’t it exciting? Well, not really, yet. The real excitement doesn’t start until Part 2. Well, kind of. I’ll shut up. Anyway, the *~*MR*~* and *~*MK*~* thingies indicate whose PoV the story is switching to. MR is me (Mel), Madd Spammer and *~*MK*~* is Meryl, AKA Draca. Okay, so as for stuff in this part, Rachel really does live by a cemetery (if you walk all the way through it, you can get right to Ellen’s house), and there really is a gazebo there, and there really is lots of trees, so that stuff doesn’t “just happen to be there.” It IS there! All of my stories always have some basis in reality. Even Attack of the Furbies (one of many Canyon Crew stories). At least, I think that one did. Anyway, onwards, to Part 1!
*~*MR*~*
The four of us (Ellen, Meryl, Rachel and me, Melanie) were lounging under the gazebo in the cemetery near Rachel’s house when it happened. We had all suspected it would happen, but we didn’t expect it.
It was the middle of the summer, and we were using it very productively by doing absolutely nothing. Well, not quite nothing – we were discussing the many adventures of the Canyon Crew Minus Two (that’s our name for ourselves). It was one of those kinds of conversations in which every other sentence started with “remember when…” except all those to come…
“Hey, look! It’s an owl!” Meryl screamed.
“Meryl, it is NOT from Hogwarts. You’re way too obsessed,” I said.
“But it’s the middle of the DAY! Owls are nocturnal! Why else would it be awake now?” Meryl spouted.
“It probably has rabies,” Ellen commented.
“No, LOOK! It has a letter in its beak!” Meryl persisted.
“It probably just got stu - ” Rachel stopped when the owl dropped the envelope in front of us. We all stared at it, no one daring to touch it, let alone open it. It was addressed in gleaming emerald-green ink:
The Canyon Crew Minus Two
The Gazebo
The Cemetery
Bethlehem, PA 18015
After gawking for a few more moments, Ellen finally reached for the envelope, being the bravest of the group. Her eyes widened as she silently read it. Then she let it flutter to the ground.
I scooped it up and read aloud:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Cf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Miss Keich, Miss Kopy, Miss McGilloway and Miss Rehrig,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at 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 July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
I turned to the next page, and there was indeed a list of books and equipment.
“OH…MY…GOD!” Meryl stammered, “We’re witches! We’re witches! Heh heh. I knew it.”
“Okay… how are we going to get to London?” Ellen asked.
“Forget about getting there, today is July 31st!” I exclaimed.
“It’s Harry Potter’s birthday,” Meryl articulated dreamily.
“So? Why does it matter if it’s Harry Potter’s birthday?” Demanded Rachel.
“It DOESN’T matter. What DOES matter is this is the last day we can let them know we’re coming, and we don’t have an owl!” I was disappointed. I had thought that maybe for once something interesting would happen to us that didn’t affect us negatively, but I figured I was wrong again.
“Owl… Owl… Owl…” Meryl chanted.
“We can use the owl that delivered the letter. It’s perched,” Rachel paused, “it WAS perched right here…”
“You idiot, you didn’t tip the owl!” Ellen scolded.
“What are we going to do now?” I whined, glaring at Meryl, who was still chanting the same phrase repeatedly.
“We’re witches. We are, you know!”
“SHUT UP MERYL!”
We all racked their brains for ideas, but it seemed hopeless. We’d never make it to Hogwarts and would be doomed to live our lives like Muggles.
“Maybe we could climb a tree and ambush an owl,” Rachel thoughtfully suggested.
“How are WE going to ambush an owl? We can’t even ambush sleeping, well, NOT-SO-BEAUTY!” I shouted.
“Have you got a better idea?” Rachel rebuked.
“Ah, er, not really…” For once, I was fresh out of ideas, “But I’M not climbing a tree! I’ll get all dirty!”
“Mel, you get dirty at soccer practice, so what’s the difference here?” Ellen said, sick of my complaining, to which I responded, “I complain at soccer practice, too, remember?” Even so, soon all four of us were shinnying their way up four different trees, and I was struggling to hold ground on the tree.
“If we’re witches, why can’t we turn off gravity or something? Even better, cast a spell on the owl so that it will always come back to us,” I still didn’t quite believe that the Canyon Crew Minus Two was actually witches, but who could blame me, considering that I had previously thought Hogwarts was a fictional school in a fiction novel.
“Do you SEE any owls?” Meryl snapped, “If you see any owls, FEEL FREE TO TELL ME!”
“Fine, fine,” I muttered, resuming my climbing, still being the closest to the ground of anyone of the group.
A few minutes passed in silence, a rarity among the Canyon Crew. Meryl, being quite an agile climber, was the farthest up of everyone. Ellen, Meryl, Rachel and I hoped that no one we knew would happen to pass by and see us hugging the trees the way we were doing.
“Hey, I think I see the owl!” I pointed upwards. No sooner than I had done that, I realized that I had let go of the tree and fell to the ground with a loud “THUD!” Luckily, I hadn’t climbed very far, and didn’t have far to fall.
After lying sprawled on the ground in the position I fell, I started to get up and brush myself off, disgusted by the dirt all over my clothes. By this time Ellen, Meryl and Rachel had gotten down from the trees (without falling).
“I think we need a new idea,” Meryl said dryly.
“You think?” Ellen uttered.
At that instant, a pinecone fell out of the tree and walloped me in the head. Once again I collapsed on the ground, but thankfully I wasn’t unconscious.
“I’ve got an idea!” I sat bolt upright.
“Now just because she got pelted in the head with a pinecone she thinks she’s smart,” Rachel muttered to Ellen.
“She IS smart!” Meryl had overheard Rachel’s mumbling. “So let her speak!”
“Yeah, let her speak!” I added, and everyone looked at me expectantly. It took me a while to realize that they were waiting for me to tell my idea. “Oh, yeah, right. Well, we can catapult someone into the air to catch the owl,” I said, holding a tree branch and then letting it go, demonstrating its catapulting ability. Everyone then nodded in agreement that it was a good idea.
“So, who wants to catch the owl?” I paused, “Hey, why are you looking at me like that? No, no, stay back!” I protested uselessly, until finding myself on the tree branch, ready to be launched into the air.
*~*MK*~*
I, Meryl Kopy, am a witch. I knew it all along. Despite this fact, my friends and I have to resort to catapulting Melanie into the air to catch an owl.
“Mel, we don’t really WANT to do this,” I sniggered, “We HAVE TO do this.”
“Yeah, sure,” She replied doubtfully, “Just get it over with!” She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Ellen, Rachel and I let go of the branch and watched her fly up into the air and away from us. She didn’t even start screaming until a few seconds after we had released the branch. It must have taken her that long to find her voice. Either that or she didn’t realize until then that she was no longer anywhere near the ground. Remember, she DID have her eyes closed.
While Mel flew through the air, we ran as fast as we could, trying to keep up. It’s kinda hard to run up Dodson Street, so we had to stop to catch our breath. If only I had a Firebolt, I could fly alongside Melanie, laughing at her when she’d start to fall, but that would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?
I was the first over the hill, so I was the first to see the pitiful yet greatly amusing sight on the field in front of us. Hanging from the goal post by her belt, there was Mel, clutching the owl tightly in her hands.
A/N: When we last saw our heroes (heroines, actually), Ellen, Meryl, Rachel and I (Mel) had gotten our acceptance letter while lounging in a gazebo in the cemetery near Rachel’s house. It was July 31st, the reply date if we were planning on attending Hogwarts, so we had to hurry up and catch the owl that had delivered the letter (it IS a long way from England to the States, so it had to have been resting). After climbing trees to find the owl, we formulated another plan of catapulting me through the air to catch the owl. And it worked… except the fact that I ended up hanging from the goalpost at the nearby soccer field.
*~*MR*~*
“Is the owl okay?” Meryl screamed anxiously as she bolted to where I hung from a goalpost. Not waiting for an answer, she reiterated, “Is it?”
The owl hooted softly while still in my grasp, “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I replied sarcastically.
“Well, the owl’s fine, too, right?” She worriedly persisted.
“OF COURSE THE OWL’S FINE! IF IT WASN’T WOULD IT BE HOOTING AND BREATHING?” I screamed exasperatedly, “Now do you mind GETTING ME DOWN FROM HERE?!”
“Well, if you’re going to be like THAT, we’ll just take the owl and leave you there!” Rachel scolded while grabbing the owl. She then produced stationery and a pen from her giant pockets, wrote the letter to Hogwarts, and sent the owl away with it. All the while I still hung from the goalpost.
“Hey, I’m starting to get a bit lightheaded here. PLEASE help me down?”
“I don’t know… It wasn’t very nice for you to yell at us,” Rachel teased. She was still taunting me when some goons, Kris Fried, Ryan Sarko and Chris Gore, appeared over the hill. That wasn’t exactly the best thing that could happen, considering I was hanging from a goalpost, but at least we didn’t have the owl anymore.
“MERRRRRRRRYL!” Kris yelled, then stopped dead in his tracks, presumably when he saw me dangling from the goalpost. My suspicion was confirmed when Kris whispered to Chris and Sarko while pointing at me.
“Melanie Rehrig! What are you doing up THERE?”
“I’d rather not say. At least not to YOU,” I responded with a sneer.
“Oh, fine,” Kris said, trying to pretend he was hurt by my rebuttal. His presence was really starting to bother Meryl, as she hates him as much as you can hate a person. For that matter, she hates Gore that much, too. I saw her quietly simmering, trying to contain her rage.
"Fried..." She muttered quietly, "Go away, I'm not in the mood."
"Oh, REALLY!?" He said, coming closer, "Date me! Huh? Huh?"
"Fried, GO AWAY!" Yelled Rachel, beginning to shake the goalpost in a futile attempt to get me down. Suddenly, Meryl got a very funny look on her face and smiled sweetly at Kris, clenching her fists.
"Hey," He said, backing away into Sarko and Gore. "Don't... Don't... The last time you looked at me like that, I got a rash," She stepped toward him a little, apparently intending to pummel and harm him, but instead, something else happened.
I heard Ellen, Rachel and Meryl cracking up, but I had been hit by a breeze and swung the other way, so I couldn't see what was going on. Suddenly, I head an unfamiliar voice. It was unfamiliar, and yet strangely familiar.
"Oh my GOD!" gasped a female voice, "What's going on? Is my makeup all right? Why did I just say that? Hey, what's up, Sarko; why are you looking at me like that?" I was caught by another breeze in time to see out of the corner of my eye the sight of Fried catching a glimpse of himself in a puddle near third base. He screamed a very feminine scream, fainted, and fell off of his, er, her very fetching black pumps and into the dirt, getting dust all over his – her – matching sequined cocktail gown. Meryl was rolling around on the ground, cackling, and Ellen, Rachel and I were holding our sides.
“What the… How did you…” Chris stuttered.
“I’m getting out of here!” Ryan scrambled back down the hill where he had come from with Chris following closely behind. Kris had come to and tried to run away, but he, er, she still hadn’t quite mastered walking with the hulking shoes.
“Run, Kristina, run! Rachel taunted evilly.
“Wow, Meryl, how did you do that?” I inquired eagerly once the shim was gone, “Wait a minute; don’t tell me yet. Could you please be so kind to get me down from here?”
“I suppose we’ve let you suffer long enough,” Meryl motioned Rachel to move underneath the goalpost to catch me.
“Just undo your belt and let yourself fall,” Rachel outstretched her arms, beckoning me. I carefully unbuckled the belt and closed my eyes, hoping none of Rachel’s jewelry would sever any arteries. As I fell from the goalpost, I shut my eyes tightly (something I’ve been doing all too often), only to hear “Oooh! A quarter!”
“FWOMP!” I felt myself land face first in one of the mud puddles that Ellen had always complained about as a goalie. If Rachel hadn’t yet again been distracted by a bright and shiny object, I might not have been in utter and complete pain.
“Have a nice millennium?” Ellen said, and I was confused. That is, I was until I realized that my pants had fallen down without the belt to hold them up. Note to self: Don’t wear these pants ever again.
“Of all days I’d have to wear this underwear,” I muttered while pulling up my pants and putting my belt back on.
“Hey, at least you’re not dangling ominously from the goalpost anymore!” Meryl said, suppressing laughter.
“It would’ve been better if SOMEONE would have actually CAUGHT ME!” I tried hopelessly to get the mud off of my face.
“Heh heh. You fell in a muddle pud.”
“SHUT UP MERYL!” We all had to shout once again, though we really didn’t want her to shut up; we wanted to know how she turned Fried into a girl.
*~*MK*~*
“Well, I began,” chuckling evilly, “I don’t know how I did it. I was just so angry, and…” I sat down on the grassy field, stunned, “I’m going to be in serious trouble. Do you think that’ll wear off?”
“I hope not!” Gasped Rachel, who was rolling around near the pitcher’s mound, “Ah ha ha ha! You turned Kris Fried into a female! Without a wand!”
I decided to change the subject. Quickly.
“All right, FOCUS, Rachel. The letter is off. Now, how are we going to get to Hogwarts?”
“Don’t ask ME,” snapped Melanie, rubbing her sore bum, “YOU’RE the all-knowing Harry Potter queen in the vicinity. YOU figure out a way!”
I sighed, “Well, if we take the 2x4’s to the piggy banks, we MIGHT have a chance to travel in the cargo hold… in pet carriers…”
A/N: In Part 2, Meryl accidentally turned Kris Fried into a girl. Quite humorous, except for the fact that I was still hanging from the goalpost, without the owl (as Rachel had taken the owl and sent a letter away with it before Kris, Ryan and Chris stumbled upon us). After finally getting down from the goalpost, we all realized that getting to Hogwarts would be a problem, particularly because we didn’t have any money.
*~*MR*~*
“Forty three dollars and seventy one cents. I don’t think that’s enough even to fly as cargo,” I said after counting our money, “We might have to,” Gulp, “Work.”
Everyone gasped.
It was the day after we found out that we had been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We had been at Rachel’s house trying to figure out how we’d get to London by the start of the term, unsuccessfully if I might add.
“Maybe we can just tell our parents about this,” I reasoned.
“Are you crazy?” Exploded the other three.
“O-kay… bad idea… so, how are we going to get money to go to Diagon Alley?” I questioned.
“Why don’t we just ask our parents for money for school supplies and just not specify the school we’re going to,” Meryl suggested.
“Won’t they notice if we’re gone for the whole term?” Demanded Ellen.
“We can send them an owl once we’re there. That way, they can’t bring us home,” Rachel smirked, “Anyway, Muggles can’t find Diagon Alley.”
“Wait a minute, it’s too much money for our supplies AND the plane tickets. Our parents will get suspicious if we ask for that much money,” I quipped, “I think we WILL have to work.”
Meryl groaned. Loudly. Not that everyone else didn’t groan, Meryl just groaned the loudest.
“We’re so talented; which of our many talents shall we bestow upon the friendly neighborhood population?” Ellen said sarcastically.
“I guess I could mow somebody’s lawn,” Rachel offered.
I gave her a withering look, “Who would trust YOU with a lawnmower?!”
Without an explanation, Rachel had run out of the house and down Dodson Street. We grudgingly followed her, and we were still puzzled when she ran up the steps of Mr. Hannis’s house and rang the doorbell. We were too winded to bother going up the steps with her, so we listened from below, hearing a few snippets of the conversation. It seemed that Mr. Hannis was the lunatic who would trust her with a lawnmower.
Rachel walked down the steps smiling gloatingly, “Well I’VE got a job now. What about YOU three?”
“You seem to have forgotten something. You don’t have a lawnmower. What are you going to use? Hedge clippers?” Meryl giggled at the thought of Rachel crawling on her hands and knees while using hedge clippers to cut the grass.
“Oh. I didn’t think of that,” Rachel looked down at her feet.
“You didn’t think at all,” Ellen sniggered.
Instead of glaring at Ellen, Rachel looked up and her smile reappeared, “You have a lawnmower, don’t you? In the shed?”
“Yeah… but I’m not dragging that thing all the way back over here!” Ellen declared.
*~*MK*~*
Ellen was in her house fetching the key to the shed while Melanie, Rachel and I were waiting outside. We were well on our way to getting some money to put in our Hogwarts fund. Speaking of money, all we have is Muggle money. How are we ever going to buy our supplies in Diagon Alley?
My train of thought was interrupted when Ellen came out of her house shouting, “Got it!” She then took the key and inserted it into the padlock, which unwillingly unlocked. We stared into the mess, our eyes searching for any sign of the concealed lawnmower.
“Ah, there it is!” I carefully walked through the jumble to reach the lawnmower. I somehow managed to dislodge it from a few killer rakes that tried to attack me and handed it off to Rachel. That was when the door closed.
I waited a moment until I tentatively shouted, “Uhh, Ellen? Mel? Rache? Can you open the door again?”
I waited for a response, but there was none. Could they have left? I thought. After a few minutes, it was evident that they had indeed left. “Just wait ‘til I get my hands on them…” I grumbled to myself.
As there was nothing else to do, I clambered over the junk in the shed, hoping to find something interesting. Then I stumbled over a riding mower. I chuckled to myself at the thought of how they’d feel so stupid for using a regular lawnmower when they could have used a riding one. Due to the lack of anything else around for my amusement, I promptly fell asleep at the wheel.
*~*MR*~*
“She probably had to use the bathroom,” I said to Ellen and Rachel on the way back to Ellen’s house to restore the lawnmower to its place in the shed.
“It’s been over an hour,” Ellen informed me.
“Okay, so maybe she fell in the toilet.” We all giggled at the thought of Rachel’s implication as we walked up Ellen’s driveway.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!! THERE’S SPIDERS IN HERE!!”
The three of us exchanged worried glances and hurried to open the shed door to let Meryl out. When we got there, it wouldn’t budge. While we struggled to open the door, we heard anguished cries of “UNGUAH!” coming from inside the shed.
When we miraculously got the shed open, a disgruntled and frazzled Meryl stepped out, “HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THERE?!”
“I… uhh… we… er… we’re sorry!” I stuttered.
“Sorry schmorry!” She snorted, “I ought to lock YOU in there for an hour! See how you like it!”
Rachel, seeing the obvious need to change the subject, held up a twenty-dollar bill that we had earned by mowing Mr. Hannis’s lawn, “We got some money.”
“Whoopee,” Meryl said with just a hint of sarcasm, “Now we have a whole sixty dollars.”
“And seventy one cents,” I added. Meryl then gave me a sniping look and I realized I shouldn’t have said that.
*~*MK*~*
“So, what now?” Melanie pondered as the four of us dangled our feet in Ellen’s pool. It was the day after I had been locked in the shed with the sadistic arachnids.
“I’m not mowing any more lawns after what happened yesterday,” Rachel declared.
I must have had a bewildered look on my face because Ellen took over, explaining, “She ran over her foot with the lawnmower. Luckily the sole of her shoe was so thick that she didn’t mangle any toes.”
We fell into silence. Ho hum.
“OWIE!” Melanie screamed, seemingly out of nowhere.
“What did you do now?” I asked impatiently.
“Something bit me,” She rubbed her sore wrist, and then she turned around and froze.
*~*MR*~*
“It’s an owl,” Meryl said, mesmerized.
“You think?” Rachel shot back, “I thought it was a boarhound.”
“Well, let’s not just STARE, read the letter!” Ellen reached for the letter that the owl had so patiently waited for us to read.
“You’re not getting away from us this time,” I said, reaching into my pocket to see what kind of food was in there. I found a Slim Jim and fed it to the owl, who hooted contentedly.
“Hey, look at this!” Ellen held the letter out so we could all read it.
Dear Ellen, Melanie, Meryl and Rachel,
Thought you might have some trouble getting your Muggle guardians to send you to England, so here are some plane tickets. I would have sent some floo powder to you, but I don’t think you’ll remember how to use it. Looking forward to seeing you again at Hogwarts.
Cordially,
Severus Snape
PS Don’t worry about having money to buy supplies. You’ve got vaults at Gringotts.
“SNAPE? What the…? Why would he…? Looking forward…? Something’s NOT right here!” Meryl burst out.
“How richly bizarre,” I commented.
“To say the least.”
A/N: In part 3, we accidentally locked Meryl in a shed with sadistic arachnids. The three of us had gone to mow Mr. Hannis’s lawn and actually make some much needed money, which turned out to not quite be enough. Just when we thought it was hopeless, an owl delivered a strange letter with plane tickets to England enclosed.
*~*MK*~*
I can’t wait to get my owl!
Yes, I, Meryl Kopy, happen to be a witch. Heh heh. I never get tired of saying that. I probably never will, either. I’m a witch! I’m a witch!
Anyhow, when I last spoke, I happened to be a witch still getting over being locked in a tool shed with a lot of very disgruntled spiders. I won’t go into that again, however. Well, maybe I will a little. When I go to Hogwarts, I’m bringing many cans of Raid. The horror!
Speaking of Hogwarts, it was August 25, three entire weeks after we’d found out that we were witches. You can imagine what went on during then, I’m sure. Basically, we sat around, perfectly silent, occasionally blurting out, “I’m a witch! Don’t you know, I am!”
On this day that our plane tickets specified, Ellen, Melanie, Rachel and I had just managed to convince Ellen’s sister Linda (with plenty of groveling and begging) to drive us to the airport to go to “Girl Scout Camp.” Unbelievably, our parents actually bought this! It had taken us some time to come up with the excuse, but since we’d been planning on going for a while, it didn’t take much convincing. They had no way of knowing that in a few short hours, I would be the proud new owner of an actual magic wand! I couldn’t wait!
We were traveling to the Lehigh Valley Airport via Ye Olde Crapmobile, also known as the Keich family Volvo. Unfortunately, it was the only transportation available at that point in time, and we were forced to ride in the small pukish-brown vehicle to catch our plane. Speaking of our plane, I still wasn’t quite sure why Professor Snape sent us tickets. He’s supposed to be mean and cruel! He’s the head of Slytherin house, though. Boy, I hope I’ll be a Slytherin. I’ve always thought I’d be a Slytherin, but I bet it’s impossible, because, you know, Slytherin is for purebloods. Well, perhaps I’ll be a Ravenclaw. That wouldn’t be so horrid.
*~*MR*~*
“At least none of us have to ride in the trunk!” I grinned excitedly as we shoveled our luggage into the Volvo by the ton.
“Hey… HEEEYYYY!” I warned my friends as they advanced on me.
“Thanks for the suggestion, Mel,” Sniggered Rachel as she reached out her arms.
“No! Linda’s clown suit is in there! I’m afraid of clowns!” I squealed loudly as they chased me around the car.
“All right, all right,” Grumbled Meryl, “Car it is.”
So in the end, we were obliged to all squish in the Volvo, very uncomfortably, if I might add. Linda sat in the driver’s seat and Ellen was lucky enough to claim shotgun; Meryl, Rachel and I were scrunched in the back, suffocating under a mountain of duffel bags. I’m the smallest, so I was in the middle. I think I broke a few ribs, actually.
“At least we don’t have trunks yet,” Muttered Rachel, being quite disgruntled as she shoved aside a suitcase devoted entirely to Meryl’s various hair care products.
“What?” Asked Linda absently as she pushed a Bloodhound Gang CD forcefully into the drive. She must’ve been thinking about Dave, I thought, and smirked. Dave is Linda’s boyfriend. He’s the drummer for the high school band.
“Nothing, nothing!” Ellen said quickly, smiling widely, obviously trying to hide something, but Linda didn’t notice.
“It’s five-thirty in the morning, guys,” Mumbled Meryl, “Let’s get some sleep on the way.”
“ARE YOU INSANE?!” I shrieked at her, “How can you think about sleeping?! We’re going to Hog - ” Oops, “GIRL SCOUT CAMP!”
“What’s Hog Girl Scout Camp?” Remarked Linda, adjusting the volume as we cruised down Emmaus Avenue.
“Slip of the tongue,” Meryl assured her, now fully wide-awake, shooting me daggers out of her eyes. “Just watch the road, Linda. The plane takes off at… when?”
Rachel pulled a crumpled envelope out of one of her gigantic Jnco pockets, “Let’s see. According to the tickets, we leave on British Airlines at six-fifteen.”
*~*MK*~*
“ARRRGHH!” I yelped, “That means we have to get there, find our gate, drag all this luggage through customs and get on our plane IN FORTY FIVE MINUTES!”
I was panicked. Extremely panicked. We had been given free plane tickets and apparently were expected to be on a certain plane, and we would never EVER earn enough money for plane tickets in a week. A week was how long we had until the start of the school term, and we had been planning on staying in Diagon Alley.
We were all wide-awake now, staring anxiously at the clock on the Volvo’s dash, with our hearts thudding with every minute that clicked by.
5:35.
5:41.
5:49.
“We’re not going to make it!” Groaned Melanie as we got stuck in yet another traffic mess, “We’ll miss our plane…” She sounded like she was about to cry while my heart plummeted through the hole in the floor of the Volvo’s backseat, was squashed on the road and was then hit by a bus.
“Nooo…” I trailed off. “Why didn’t we leave earlier?!” I demanded. No one answered me. The four witches in the car had extremely depressed looks on their faces, and my shoulders slumped even further as the clock switched over to 5:51.
All of a sudden, and quite unexpectedly, I felt a slight bump.
“Did we hit a poor little squirrel?” Rachel squeaked in the middle of a loud sob.
I was about to shrug when my eye twitched toward the window and I gasped for breath, “Guys… I think… I think we did it again…”
Ye Olde Crapmobile had lifted right off the road, out of the traffic jam we were in, and was cruising toward the airport at an alarming rate of speed.
“How fast are we going?” I ground out, gripping the seat and trying not to let last night’s chicken fajitas make a reappearance.
“Dunno!” Smirked Ellen, “We broke the speedometer,” She indicated the dial. The needle had indeed broken right off.
“Er…” Broke in Melanie, “Linda? Linda?”
“I don’t believe it… Yes, she’s asleep at the wheel,” Returned Ellen, grinning so hard that her eyes were reduced to slits.
After having a good laugh about that, we noticed that the clock said merely 5:55 and we were almost at LVA already. This, of course, made me forget my nausea from being in a flying Volvo and I yelled to Ellen over the whoosh of the air through the hole in the floor, “Turn up the music!
*~*MR*~*
One fast-asleep sixteen year old and four head banging witches later, the car, renamed Ye Olde Miraculous Flying Crapmobile, touched down in a remote area of the LVA parking lot, as if automatically. We decided to just leave Linda asleep in it by Ellen’s suggestion and lugged our duffels and suitcases into the airport through the first gray misty rays of dawn.
“Whoooo!” Said Meryl, dropping her luggage and rubbing her arms and legs vigorously. “It’s COLD out here! Shorts were NOT a good idea!”
I ignored her. After all, I was smart enough to be wearing pants. In fact, I was wearing my historic ones. She’d declared that she was going to change into her historic ones as soon as we set foot in Diagon Alley, but for now, she was covered with goose bumps.
“Hey, Rachel,” I said, “what time is it?” Rachel pulled up her sweatshirt sleeve and looked at her watch. I noticed that it was that nasty pink one she’d found in our school’s locker room – ‘scuse me, our old school’s locker room – and I groaned loudly.
She glanced at the crystal display and declared, “Six oh five.” We stared blankly at each other for about five seconds before grabbing our luggage and bolting for our gate, which was, of course, number 13.
We flew panting through the hall, lugging our bags, attracting some very strange looks from some other early morning travelers, and finally arriving at Customs. Figuring Meryl would know more about this sort of thing, since she’s been out of the country before, I stepped back and let her take over.
“Destination?” The suited man questioned.
“London, Dia – King’s Cross,” Meryl said, looking at me.
I hissed to her, “You were going to say Diagon Alley, weren’t you?” She elbowed me in the ribs, and that hurt. Quite a bit.
The guard continued, “Are you carrying anything to declare? Is it a plant specimen, animal specimen, biological specimen, or anything that you are planning to sell? Any imports?”
“NO!” Meryl replied impatiently, “As a matter of fact, it’s only clothes and our wallets.”
He grabbed the duffels, passed them through the metal detector, and then waved the wand over each of us. Rachel, of course, continued to set it off because of all her loud and heavy jewelry, so the guard finally gave up. “Identification?” He sighed wearily.
I looked at the clock on the wall. Six-ten.
We fumbled for our wallets and Meryl snatched them anxiously. The guard studied our school IDs and passports and handed them back, and we shoved them clumsily into our pockets as he tagged our luggage.
“You may go,” He said, “Have a nice - “
We didn’t hear him. We had shouldered our carry-ons and were sprinting down the connector to the plane, and we hopped aboard just as the call echoed through the airport, “Final boarding call, Gate Thirteen, Flight Seven Thirty One to King’s Cross, London.”
We wound our way past first class, trying to catch our dropping jaws, and past most of coach, still panting exasperatedly when we found our seats. They were near the back of third class, and the fuselage was very narrow; the windows were only six feet apart.
“Aisle seat!” Shrieked Ellen and Rachel at the same time. “I get sick on window seats, and trust me, you do NOT want to see what I had for dinner last night,” Rachel assured me as she elbowed her way past and shoved her backpack into the overhead compartment, followed by Ellen’s Knicks bag.
“You’re right; I don’t,” I told her, “And I wanted a window seat anyway.” Meryl was making herself comfortable in the seat next to me, taking her CD player out of her bag, and looking like she was going to eat the next thing that came in contact with her, whether it was food or not.
A/N: In part 4, a week before the school term started, Ellen’s sister drove us to the airport to catch our flight. Kind of. The four of us accidentally (we sure do a LOT of stuff accidentally) made the car fly, and Linda fell asleep at the wheel. So, it turned out that we just barely made it to our flight, after all of the chaos we went through getting there.
*~*MK*~*
“Hey!” I yelled, pausing my CD player and startling my three friends, “This is flight 731! Seven thirty-one! Harry Potter’s birthday! The day we got the letter!”
“Wow,” Ellen observed absently.
“Ouch!” Yelped Rachel, utterly ignoring me, “I’m squashed. How do they expect normal people to fit into these seats?!”
Melanie smiled angelically. “I’m perfectly fine,” She remarked sweetly, earning her three murderous glares from the rest of us. Then, the little seatbelt sign clicked on, and all around us were sounds of buckling from the other coach passengers.
“I wonder what House I’ll be in,” I remarked dreamily, staring at the mesmerizing seatbelt sign.
Ellen was struggling with her own belt, which she had somehow managed to entangle herself in completely. “Well,” She ground out, unwrapping it from around her neck, “We know one of us for sure.”
Melanie giggled and nodded. “Yup. Rachel,” She affirmed, grinning wickedly.
Rachel looked around in an alarmed manner, “Me what? Did I miss something?”
“Hufflepuff,” We three others remarked simultaneously.
“What was the description?” I muttered to myself, flipping through the book I’d been reading, “Oh, yeah. A load o’ duffers.”
This caused Ellen to burst out into hysterics, and Melanie had to calm her down by reaching over me and clapping a hand over her mouth.
“Mmmmfffflug!” She said, attempting to voraciously bite Mel.
“Wow, you ARE hungry!” Melanie exclaimed, wiping her hand on her jeans. Ellen turned to me and smirked, “That description certainly fits Rachel,” earning herself a loud and painful burn from the apparently disgruntled Hufflepuff across the aisle from her.
*~*MR*~*
There we were, finally on our way. The plane had lifted off and we’d been in the air for about, oh, ten minutes before the first “incident” occurred.
We were about to eat our breakfast, unwisely dubbed “eggs benedict.” The stewardess said that it was supposed to be poached eggs on an English muffin with Hollandaise sauce, but Meryl’s culinary review was “Tastes like a tennis shoe covered with paste.” Rachel and Ellen were the only two people on the whole plane to be able to shovel it down.
“Ewwww!” I commented disgustedly, poking it tentatively with a plastic fork, “How can you two eat this stuff?” I noticed that Meryl was dumping hers discreetly into a potted palm behind her seat until my view was obscured by someone coming out of the bathroom. Bathroom… speaking of which, it was time for me to take a potty break.
“’Scuse me,” I said as I stood up and dumped my portion of tennis shoe onto Rachel’s plate. “Be right back.”
I was in the bathroom, making a futile attempt to lock the door when I heard a scream of “DAAAADDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYY!” This, of course, caused me to think, Oh, great, I wonder what Rachel’s gone and done now.
I burst out of the bathroom to find Rachel trying to hide under Ellen’s seat, which was humorous in its own right, but nevertheless, I was immediately alarmed. “What happened?” I questioned Meryl, who was beet red and slouching down in her seat.
She replied, “Stupid over there let it slip to some little five year old that we’re witches. Can you believe it?!”
“WHOMP!” I smacked Rachel with the hardcover book that Meryl had been reading and hauled her off the floor, no small feat for someone my size.
“What were you thinking??” I demanded of her loudly, “We’ve been on the plane for fifteen minutes and we still have six hours left! Who’re ya gonna tell next? Would you like a bullhorn, perhaps?!”
“Chill!” She said, annoyed, “Sorry!”
I sat down and crossed my arms. “Blockhead!”
“Dorkus!”
“Crapweasel!”
“Wart!”
“Cheeseball!”
“Quit it! I’m trying to get some sleep here!” Interjected Meryl, throwing a barf bag filled with ketchup packets in our general direction.
*~*MK*~*
After Rachel’s little act of indiscretion, we tried to lay low. What comfort would it have been for anyone else on the plane to find out that we’re witches?
“I wish they could show a good movie,” Mel grumbled from the seat next to me.
I tried to stretch out my legs, but it was fruitless. I’d be stuck in this position forever. I sighed, “Stop complaining. Be happy there’s any movie at all!”
“But it’s in black and white! And I can’t even hear what the actors are saying!”
“IT’S A SILENT MOVIE, YOU IDIOT!”
“Oh.”
*~*MR*~*
One hour gone. Five more left. I hope we can all just stay out of trouble for that much time. I hope that we can stay out of trouble in London, too. I don’t want to get deported. I don’t even want to imagine getting in trouble at Hogwarts. I shudder to think what kind of detention we’ll have.
I pulled my cherished copy of Michael Crichton’s Sphere out of my bag and flipped it open to a random spot. It was the chapter called “The Power.” I closed the book. Too freaky for me.
Hmm… What’s this? A pillow? Didn’t know we get pillows in coach… Boy, am I tired… I thought before promptly falling asleep.
A/N: In part 5, we were on the plane to England. Finally. We established that Rachel would almost definitely be a Hufflepuff, right before she let it slip to a little kid that we’re witches. That led to a bit of a fit of name calling, which Meryl ended by throwing a barf bag full of ketchup packets. And then I fell asleep after deciding that silent movies are NOT entertaining.
*~*MK*~*
I attempted to look on the bright side. We were being served boiled tennis shoes, watching a silent movie, and every few seconds someone would clomp past our seats to get to the bathroom. Not only that, but Rachel was snoring like a buzz saw. HOW could Melanie be sleeping? On ME! I am NOT a pillow! At least I wasn’t yesterday. Of course, 4 weeks ago I wasn’t a witch, either, nor did I have someone DROOLING ON MY SHOULDER!
Figuring I might as well bone up on the basics, I pulled my ragged treasured copy of Sorcerer’s Stone out of my bag and began reading.
I couldn’t concentrate. I could feel my nerves frying - How were we going to get to Diagon Alley? What’s more, WHY did I have a bank vault? How were we supposed to do stuff, having missed three years of school? I got a funny feeling it hadn’t been such a swift idea to sacrifice my algebra book to the fireplace gods.
*~*MR*~*
I felt myself floating through the air. I knew it’s a general rule not to look down, but I did. Instead of seeing the ground, I saw a Nimbus Two Thousand beneath me. Not too shabby. Not quite a Firebolt, but still good.
I looked at my hands, and in them I held a club that was a cross between a baseball bat and a field hockey stick. Could that mean… Yes, it could! I’m a beater on a Qudditch team! Oh, happy day!
Then I heard the disembodied voice of Meryl, “Mel, we’re going. NOW!”
At the same time that I heard her, I saw a bludger flying at me out of the corner of my eye.
*~*MK*~*
Mel fluttered her eyes after her head, no longer supported by my shoulder, hit the armrest, “So, you FINALLY decided to wake up? We’ve been trying to rouse you through all of the landing!”
She wiped the drool off of her mouth, “I slept?” She smiled, “I had a dream. A good dream.”
“That’s nice, but we’ve got to get off the plane and go through customs,” Ellen said. With that, she, Mel and Rachel started to walk away until I yelled after them, “Where are you going? You left your carry-ons in the overhead compartment!” I then proceeded to open the compartment. To my horror, Mel had come back to get her stuff, which buried her, along with mine, Ellen’s and Rachel’s.
“Oh no!” We all exclaimed while desperately pawing at our stuff. Suddenly, Mel threw Ellen’s bag at me, knocking me backward. Obviously, she wasn’t very pleased by the avalanche. I reached up to rub my forehead, which felt like it had the imprint of a Knicks logo. Great. Just great.
After once again shouldering our carry-ons, we stumbled out of the plane and through customs. We tried to suppress our laughter when we heard the British people talking, but we slipped a few times. Mel absolutely beamed while they were talking. She must have been thinking of Notting Hill, her absolute favorite movie.
“Sod a dog!… You daft prick!” She absently and dreamily mumbled. I had to apologize on her behalf when a large, scary man thought she had called him a daft prick. Even though he said it was okay, we ran away from him and towards the baggage carousel as fast as we could.
Mel found her stuff right away, which caused us to glare at her contemptuously. “What did I do?” She badgered, “Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things until it’s too late?” We just ignored her. I swear she can be so naïve sometimes.
What was taking so long? Ellen, Rachel and I had put our bags right next to Melanie’s when we were back in the States, so why weren’t they here yet? If I would’ve said that, I knew Mel would reply with a cheesy smile, “Just lucky, I guess!”
Watching the people around us since there was nothing to do, we spotted a giant man looming in the corner of the room, watching us. It was really creeping us out.
“I’m bored. There’s hardly anyone around, so do you think it would be okay if I’d go for a ride on the baggage carousel?” Mel inquired, half-serious.
Ellen, Rachel and I shook our heads disapprovingly. I then burst out, “LOOK! THERE’S OUR BAGS!” As soon as I said that, the three of us ran towards the carousel as if it were a race. We all ended up tripping each other and landing flat on our faces right in front of the carousel while Mel looked on, laughing demonically.
Then Mel froze, staring fixedly at something behind us. I turned around with my backpack strap in my mouth, which then fell to the floor. The giant was walking toward us.
*~*MR*~*
“Took yeh long enough!” The ground shook as the giant spoke to us. Meryl was picking up her backpack, which she had dropped when the oaf was lumbering towards us.
“Huh?” We unanimously uttered.
“Didn’ yeh know I was goin’ ter meet yeh here?” He demanded.
“No, sir, we, uhh, we didn’t,” I stuttered.
“Yeh didn’ get the owl?”
We looked at him blankly.
“Blast that owl! I paid good money fer him, but does he do what I tell him ter to? ‘Course not!” We stared at him in a very confused manner, and he explained, “Call me Hagrid. Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”
“You’re Hagrid! Wow!” We all exclaimed.
“Well, who did yeh think I was? Surprised yeh didn’ recognize me,” Hagrid said.
“Well, we’ve never seen you before. We’ve only imagined you from reading the books,” Rachel clarified.
“The books! Though’ they was fiction, didn’ yeh?”
“Of course we did! Though many times we wished they weren’t…” I trailed off.
“Now yeh know they aren’t. But yeh don’ know why they was written, d’yeh?
We shook our heads.
“Yeh see, yer the first American witches. We didn’ know how ter get yeh over here to Hogwarts. We had to brin’ yeh over while yeh were sleepin’! Learnin’ witchcraft in yer sleep! Yeh had ter know a ‘lil bit abou’ Hogwarts, so that’s where the books came in. We knew yeh’d find ‘em. Enough abou’ that. Yeh’ll hear more abou’ it soon enough. I’ll get yeh ter the Leaky Cauldron. Yeh was plannin’ on stayin’ there, right?” He was good.
Our group stood out like a sore thumb as we trudged through the streets of London. We were busy concentrating on lugging our bags, so we didn’t have the energy to converse. When we reached the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid hurried ahead of us to get us a room so we wouldn’t have to bother. He was waiting inside with the key, and handed it off to me, since I was smart enough to carry my bags so that I’d have a free hand.
“Wait a second,” I said, stopping in my tracks, “If Hogwarts is real and you’re real… the REST of the characters are real, too. Right?”
Hagrid looked at me strangely, “’Course.”
While we slogged up the steps, Meryl went into chanting mode once again. “We’re gonna meet Harry Potter! We’re gonna meet Harry Potter!…”
After we had put our bags in our home away from home for the next week, Meryl was still repeating the same phrase over and over. As we went back down the steps, I was pushed over the edge by her incessant chanting. “I’d think you’d be more interested in Draco Malfoy,” I snapped at her, shutting her up right away.
Hagrid, who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, thundered, “Yeh stay away from the Malfoys, the lot of yeh. Bad blood, that is. Steer clear, I would.” Meryl nodded seriously, but when Hagrid indicated that we should follow him and then turned around, she gave me a smirk that said very clearly, I intend to do nothing of the kind.
That was when I REALLY started to worry.
A/N: In part 6, I had a dream about being a beater on a Quidditch team, until I was awoken when the flight was over. When we got off of the plane, in England (of course… no, Pakistan!) baggage was a problem. Actually, it was a problem while we were on the plane, too. There was an avalanche of it, and Meryl came out of the incident with a sore forehead. When we got our baggage from the carousel, a big scary guy approached us! But it was okay, because it was just Hagrid. He explained that we were the first American witches (I know, it’s farfetched, but MY STORY! NYA!). And so, we established that the Harry Potter books were not fiction at all, but a reality.
*~*MK*~*
Hagrid had taken us to Diagon Alley and left us there to meander by ourselves, after, of course, pointing out the stores we’d need to go to. I couldn’t contain myself when he pointed out Eyelops Owl Emporium and cackled very evilly. He would soon find out that it wasn’t very wise to leave us by ourselves.
Oops, I’ve gotten ahead of myself. Sorry about that, but I really like owls! Anyway, before Hagrid showed us the stores such as the owl emporium, he took us to Gringotts.
The four of us dashed to the counter with Hagrid trailing behind. I declared, “We’ve come to take some money out of our safes.”
“Do you have your keys?” The goblin replied.
“Ah, er, uhm,” I smiled sweetly and looked back, “Hagrid?”
“Yer dad left yer key with me, and I’ve got Rachel’s and Ellen’s, but I don’ have Mel’s. See, Mel was Muggle-born, so she don’ have a vault.”
This struck me as odd, and I began, “Mel’s Muggle-born? We’re ALL Muggle-born! We - ”
Mel looked crushed. I shut up, hugged her and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll let you use our money. Right guys?” I gave Ellen and Rachel a look so that they couldn’t help but agree.
“Oh, thank you so much!” A single tear slid down Mel’s face, but from the look on her face it was a happy tear. Confirming this observation, she said, “Oh, just look at me! I’m such a crybaby!”
“Sometimes it’s okay to cry, Mel,” Rachel consoled her while patting her shoulder.
“I’ll pay you back someday, somehow,” Mel looked determined. Our little puffy-eyed princess smiled at us.
I shifted my attention from Mel to Hagrid, “Wait a minute, you said my dad left my key with you? My dad doesn’t know I’m a witch! He doesn’t even know I’m out of the country!”
“He did leave the key wit’ me, he did. No matter, step ligh’ly, we’ve got ter go ter yer vaults,” Hagrid commanded, and we were guided into a cart by the goblin.
The cart zoomed down the track, and we screamed like five year olds, enjoying it immensely, all except me. I was gripping the side of the cart so hard that my knuckles were turning white.
“Viva le Canyon Crew!” We shouted, “Waaaaaaaaaa!”
When we got to our vaults, I was amazed at how much money we all had. Ellen, Rachel and I took more money than we’d need, remembering that we’d have to share with Mel. Some of the extra was also just in case we wouldn’t be able to stop ourselves from buying stuff like wizard chess sets, fireworks, Bernie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans and Hawaiian-print robes.
After going for another wild ride out of the Underground, Hagrid proceeded to show us around Diagon Alley. Just before he was about to leave us on our own, he said, “Yeh know where everythin’ is, yeh’ve got yer key, yeh’ve got yer money, so I’ll see yeh at Hogwarts.” I turned to get on my way, remembered something and turned back.
“Hey, Hagrid,” I called, “you never explained about my fath - ”
He was gone.
*~*MR*~*
When we left the wizarding bank carrying our bags of gold, Ellen was consulting a map. “Where’d you get that?” I asked idly.
She continued studying the piece of parchment and replied, “In the bank. Mentioned to the goblin dude that we don’t have a clue. All right, let’s go in order. Robes are first.”
I guess we were so preoccupied when we entered Madame Malkin’s Robe Shop that we didn’t notice someone else about to enter it at exactly the same time. Meryl had her head half-turned back to talk to us when she bumped heads with someone. It was a very hard impact yielding a loud “CRACK!”
“Ouch!” Yelled a pale boy, stumbling a step backwards and rubbing an egg forming under his spiked silver-blonde hair. “Watch where you’re going, you idiot! Get out of my way!”
Meryl rubbed her own head, annoyed. “I suggest you follow your own advice, moron.” They both went to enter the robe shop a second time and crashed into each other yet again. There was a short and yet very loud shouting match accompanied by a large amount of shoving while Ellen, Rachel and I looked on numbly.
“Ladies first!”
“HA! You? A lady?”
“Shove off! Get out of my way - ”
“Stick it.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Grrrr…”
The pale boy’s hand strayed to where a wand was stuck through his belt. “Care to make it interesting?” He asked casually.
She grinned. I recognized it. I’d seen it before when she was about to fly into a rage. “You know,” She said in a cold drawl, the one usually reserved for Kris Fried, “I’d love to.”
Before the boy could whip out his wand, however, she lunged forward and slapped him neatly across the face. He staggered back into the wall of the shop and slunk away with several poisonous glares.
*~*MK*~*
I stormed into the shop with my fists clenched and hopped onto a stool in the back.
Ellen climbed onto another stool. “Don’t let whoever that was get you down. We’re shopping. You love shopping.”
I screwed up my face. “I know who that was, you dork. Don’t you? She looked at me, confused.
Melanie shouted at her, “Oh, honestly, did you read the books or didn’t you?”
I thought I caught a whiff of smoke as Ellen’s mental capacity ran this over, and she exclaimed, “That was Draco Malfoy, wasn’t it?”
I smiled sourly. “Yeah,” I affirmed, “I think so. Yeouch!” I yelped as the stocky witch measuring me for robes poked me with a pin.
“Sorry, dear,” The witch said absently.
A/N: In Part 7, we went to Gringotts and we discovered that I don’t have a vault because I’m Muggle-born. After getting enough money for the four of us from three vaults, we continued onward to Diagon Alley, particularly the robe shop, where we had a bit of a run-in with Draco Malfoy. A start of a lovely relationship, if I might say so.
*~*MR*~*
We were exiting the robe shop when it happened. Actually, I’d been wondering when this particular event would occur, and was looking forward to it, as a matter of fact. Still…
“Heh heh. You sure ruined your chances with HIM!” Ellen was snickering nastily as we plodded out of the robe shop through the fading light. The shops were beginning to go gray in the twilight, and we didn’t have our wands yet. Or our brooms. Or our owls!
“Just my luck. And he was cute, too!” Meryl replied glumly.
“Cheer up. I’ll treat everyone to ice cream,” We all looked at Rachel like she had gone mad. She saw this and added, “For all the money I owe you.”
“You’re buying us a lifetime supply?” Ellen remarked. Rachel pretended she didn’t hear that and strode towards Florian Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.
We heard a male voice from behind us calling, “Hey, aren’t you the one who slapped Malfoy in the robe shop?”
Meryl cringed, “Er, yes,” She turned around to face her interrogator, “What’s your na- You’re… you’re…”
“THUD!” She passed out.
“Don’t mind Meryl; she’s a bit strange,” I clarified. “Hey! Aren’t you… ELLEN! RACHEL! LOOK! SCAR!”
“THUD!” In triplicate.
*~*MK*~*
Ellen, Rachel and I came to almost immediately, though we almost passed out again after seeing the company that we were in. Oh, did I mention that I was lucky enough to wake up in a chair at the ice cream parlor with Mel still unconscious in the one next to me, while Ellen and Rachel woke up on the cold, hard gravel in front of the robe shop?
“You carried me here?” I asked delightedly.
“No, we dragged you,” The redheaded boy joked. He pointed at sleeping beauty…er, Mel, “What’s her name?”
“Don’t you want to know MY name? I’M THE ONE THAT’S AWAKE!” I bellowed indignantly.
“I know your name. She said it after you passed out. Again, what’s her name?” He persisted.
“It’s Mel,” I grumbled.
“Well, Meryl, don’t you want to know OUR names?” The dark-haired boy finally spoke up.
“I KNOW YOUR NAMES! HOW CAN I NOT KNOW WHO HARRY POTTER IS?!” I exploded, “And you’re Ron Weasley, right?” I added, offhandedly waving my fingers at the redhead.
“MERYL! That’s no way to treat the people who were nice enough to put you on a chair while you were out cold!” Rachel scolded.
“Hmph.”
*~*MR*~*
I opened my eyes to see a very freckled and redheaded boy anxiously swabbing my forehead with a wet cloth. I screamed.
“Is she going to be okay?” He turned to Ellen, Meryl and Rachel, who were disgruntledly trying to pretend that they didn’t know me.
“Yeah, Ron,” Meryl looked pointedly at me when she said his name.
“Ron?” I blinked.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got amnesia, Mel,” Ellen sarcastically hissed.
I smiled at her, then at Ron. “Thanks.” He smiled back. Meryl rolled her eyes. She must have been thinking, Now Mel’s going to need to come up with a new code name.
The other boy, who I’m assuming was Harry Potter since that’s the only person who could have a lightning bolt scar like the one he had, said while glaring at Meryl, “See, at least SHE’S grateful.”
“I couldn’t help it! I had just woken up! Aren’t YOU cranky when you first wake up?” Meryl protested.
Harry shrugged, “I guess.”
“Of COURSE you are! By the end of last year I was afraid to wake you up!” Ron chided. “By the way, which one’s Rachel and which one’s Ellen? And did you, in fact, slap Malfoy?” He asked interestedly.
I pointed, “Rachel, Ellen, Meryl did, yes,” Meryl grinned proudly, and I added, “I would’ve, too, if I was the one getting in a shoving match with that goon.” Meryl glared at me.
“What do you expect? It’s Malfoy,” Harry said disgustedly and shuddered, “A Slytherin.”
“Speaking of which, you don’t go to Hogwarts, do you?” Ron asked us.
“As a matter of fact, we do,” Rachel smugly announced.
“You do? What year are you in? What house?” Ron gave us a confused look, “I’m going into my fourth year and I haven’t seen you around before.”
“We’re fourth years…” I trailed off and looked to Ellen, Rachel and Meryl for assistance.
“But we didn’t find out until a few weeks ago,” Rachel added.
They looked even more confused than before.
“See,” I started off my explanation, “Since we’re from the States, it was a bit of a problem getting us to Hogwarts for schooling. Somehow we ended up going there in our sleep and learned that way. At least, that’s what Hagrid told us. I think this is the first year we’re actually going to stay at Hogwarts, so I guess we’ll have to be sorted with the first years.”
“So, uhh, you didn’t know you were witches until just recently?” Ron found this hard to believe.
“Would we lie to you?” Meryl snapped irritably.
“Well, considering the fact that we just MET YOU, we aren’t really at the liberty to say, now ARE WE?” Harry practically had to hold Ron back. Ellen was doing the same for Meryl.
“We better get going. We’ve got a long day of shopping ahead of us,” Rachel said warily, grabbing Meryl by her hair. Ellen and I agreed.
We were shuffling away when Ron called after us, “Hey, you don’t even know where you’re going, do you?”
“I don’t want to help THEM!” Harry whined grudgingly.
“Suit yourself,” Said Ellen a little sadly, “’Bye.”
“Don’t worry, we know how to get back to The Leaky Cauldron,” I walked backwards while talking, “We may be new at this witch thing, but we’re not completely clue – OWWWWWWWWWWW!”
*~*MK*~*
Melanie was unconscious for the second time that day. It was probably the second time in her LIFE, too. The first time was justifiable, since, well, I passed out, too, but this time she freaking WALKED INTO A WALL! So, there I was carrying Mel back to The Leaky Cauldron. Well, not entirely me; I had her by the arms and Ellen had her by the feet.
“Are you sure you don’t want one of us to carry her?” Harry asked, “You are a - ”
“Girl?” Oh no, now he was going to get Rachel going on about discrimination, I thought. She stepped menacingly towards him.
“Maybe you should go now.” Ellen said.
“Well,” Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged, “I guess. Hey… wait; you don’t really know where you’re going, do you?”
“No, not really,” I muttered incoherently, going redder than Ron’s hair.
“Well, er, uh,” Harry began brokenly, “how ‘bout we, eh, show you around tomorrow? We can meet you for breakfast - ”
“Sure!” I interrupted him brightly, “Of course. We’d love to.”
“Great,” Said Harry and Ron and the same time, looking pleased with themselves. I thought to myself, Ha, I knew they’d warm up to us! At the same time, Mel groaned and I finally handed her to Ron, claiming that my arms were broken.
“I just remembered something,” Ron blurted out as he took her from me, “We’re meeting Hermione tomorrow, too! Do any of you mind?”
“Not at all. The more, the merrier, right?” Rachel replied, wanting to get back to the Leaky Cauldron.
I forced a smile. “Of course it’s all right. We’ll see you then, OK?”
Harry actually grinned. “Sure. Well, g’bye.”
A/N: In Part 8, we met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Of course, that was after all passing out at the sight of him. A bit of hostility between them and Meryl, but nothing that means anything. And, oh, *sarcastically* there was nothing going on between me and Ron. Nothing at all! By the way, we established a rendezvous in Diagon Alley with the guys for the next day. The part ended with me being unconscious. Again.
*~*MR*~*
When I came to, Meryl was admiring herself in the mirror, holding up her new robes, while the mirror showered her with compliments. She must have loved that.
I watched her for a moment with a growing sense of annoyance, and then yelled, “HEY!” She jerked around, tripped on her robes and fell on the floor. “I’m hungry,” I informed her. “When’s dinner?”
“You missed it. Actually - ” She stood up, stuck her head out the door and hollered, “RACHEL! ELLEN! GET YOUR BEHINDS UP HERE!” I looked at her quizzically. “They still can’t get the whole money concept. One of the maids is explaining it to them.”
“But I’m hungry!” I complained.
She looked at her watch. “Well, you’ve got about nine hours until breakfast. Let’s see if Rachel brought anything.” She moved toward the pile of backpacks and duffel bags chucked in a corner of the room.
I sighed, “We have so much to do. We don’t even have our trunks yet… or books… owls… brooms… you know.”
However, I don’t really think she heard the last part. She was slowly backing away from the pile of bags, one of which was emitting a loud, annoyed yowling.
I think she would have made a break for it if Rachel hadn’t come bounding in at that exact moment, followed by Ellen. Rachel ran over to the bag and shrieked, “Andy! Oh NO!”
“You brought your CAT?!” I asked, “In your duffel bag?
“Oh dear,” She replied sadly, holding up the shredded remains of several Hawaiian shirts. “Bad Andy! Bad!” The cat shot out of the duffel bag and Ellen slammed the door just in time. After that, Andy resorted to rocketing around the room, shredding things at random. Meryl rescued her robes just in time and stuffed them into one of her own duffel bags. “CATCH THE CAT!” She screamed as Andy discovered that the room had, in fact, another door.
Five seconds later, we were sprinting down the hall at a very frightening rate of speed, chasing the feline culprit who was still yowling like mad, and, now, waking people up, too.
“Sorry!” I called as we ran down the hall after the cat, apologizing to various sleepy people who were bursting from their rooms bleary-eyed and looking very disgruntled.
*~*MR*~*
We stopped running for a second and stood around panting. I said between ragged breaths for air, “Why… are we… bothering… she’ll come… back.”
Meryl caught her breath, “Don’t they eat cats in England?” We all exchanged worried glances and were off like a shot again.
*~*MK*~*
We heard Andy’s screeching, but oddly enough, it seemed to be coming toward us, and not running away from us. A familiar pale face stepped around the corner, holding Andy, who was spitting wildly, by the scruff of her neck.
“Keep this filthy demon cat away from me, or you don’t even WANT to know which spells I’ll use on it!” Malfoy shouted, disgustedly heaving the “demon cat” at Ellen.
Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank God you’re not going to eat her!”
Malfoy gave Rachel a sharp look and huffily walked away, picking the cat hairs off of his clothing. Andy was clinging to Ellen in fear with her claws dug into Ellen’s beloved fleece. Rachel had to peel the cat off of the fleece.
“Think it’s too late to get a pet carrier at the magical creatures shop?” Rachel asked.
“I don’t know. I hope not. I’ll go with you,” Ellen said.
We all then went back up to our room, where Rachel and Ellen gathered some of their money and then left. I looked miserably around the mess of our room. “I guess we should call one of the maids.”
Mel, who was the only person left with me, whined, “After that, can we look for vending machines or something?” All she ever thinks about is food.
*~*MR*~*
Pumpkin Pastries. Chocolate Frogs. Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. Delicious!
I sat on the bed, devouring my tasty treats ravenously. Meryl had resumed looking into the talking mirror a while ago. More food for me!
Then Rachel and Ellen came back, each holding an animal carrier.
“Ellen,” Meryl said disapprovingly, “You just couldn’t wait.”
Ellen grinned. “Nope.”
“What’d you get?” I inquired with the curiosity of a child.
She continued grinning. “A toad.”
“Ooh! What are you going to name it?”
“Hmm… I don’t know.”
“How about…” I started off.
“BOB!” We all shouted decidedly before collapsing on our beds in fits of hysterical laughter.
A few minutes later, we gained enough composure to get our pajamas on and brush our teeth. I was wearing my purple cheetah print pants with a soccer shirt from who knows when, Rachel was wearing one of her tank tops and her banana pants, Ellen was wearing a soccer shirt quite similar to mine (I think the fact that we play soccer on the same team had nothing to do with it, not at all) and her plaid cargo PJ pants and Meryl wore a t-shirt and her monkey pants and repeated evilly, “Monkey pants for everyone! Monkey pants for everyone!”
When the lights were finally out, we were snuggled under the covers of our huge beds, but nowhere near being able to fall asleep.
“Wow. We’re witches!” Rachel said.
“And we thought the books weren’t real,” I mused.
“Not me!” Everyone else countered.
“Okay, okay, so I was the only one. But really, didn’t it seem a bit farfetched?” I defended, “But, WOW!” We giggled.
After a bit more babbling similar to that, the room fell into silence. I laid on my side, with the covers pulled securely around me, and more importantly, over my ears. I can’t sleep with ANY noise at all. I’ve been known to whomp people in the face with pillows just for breathing loudly.
“Owl… owl… owl… owl…” Meryl broke the silence with her chanting.
I moaned and pulled the covers away from my face so I could talk. “Yes, Meryl, you can have your owl tomorrow. But for now, SHUT UP!”
“Owl?”
What did I DOOOOOOOOO?