Another Chosen One-A Harry Potter Fanfiction

1

"ANIKA, IF YOU'RE NOT DOWN IN TEN SECONDS-"

I hurried down the stairs, standing face face with my mother. "I'm one step ahead of you, Mum."

My mother sighed, adjusting her navy blue robes as she grabbed her matching purse. "We'd better get going-the Ministry doesn't like stragglers using the car service..." I matched pace with my mother, which should have been relatively easy, considering the fact that she was in heels. She was, however, a Ministry official, and Ministry officials could walk speedily even in hazmat suits. So, as usual, I was sprinting to keep up with my mother, grumbling under my breath. 

"Mrs. Patil-Evans! Miss Evans! You both look lovely, as always," commented the balding man standing by the sleek BMW which would actually take off into the air. My mother nodded politely. "Thank you, sir." He nodded warmly at her, taking in the clothes she wore, bold and imposing as always. In comparison, I wore a pair of blue acid-washed skinny jeans and a black spaghetti top, paired with a cropped white jacket reading 'American Dream'. Ironic, since I'd never been to America.

"So, sir, is it fun?" I inquired, leaning forward in my seat as the car took off, soaring above an expanse of suburban England. 

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, Miss Evans."

"I mean, is it fun, zooming about in your flying car?"

The man chuckled, keeping his eyes firmly on the land below us. "It certainly changes your perspective on things."

"Can I have a go driving it?"

My mother slapped the back of my hand, giving me a pointed look. "Actually, never mind." I slumped in my seat, annoyed. "I assume you're a Gryffindor, Miss Evans?"

"Yeah. Hang on, how did you know? Are you, like, psychic? Can you tell me which house is going to win the Quidditch Cup this year?"

"You do ask a lot of questions. I'm not psychic-it was just a guess, based on your enthusiasm about my rather mundane life."

"No way! I would kill to drive-no, fly-around in a BMW all day! Of course, I would probably crash it like Mr. Weasley from the joke shop did in his second year, but that's the fun of it! The rush of crashing into the Whomping Willow... now that's what I call living life to the fulle-"

"We're here, Anika. Get out of the car." My mother tugs on my hand and I reluctantly bid the driver farewell, realising I never asked for his name. 

Turning toward the boot of the car, my mother whipped out her wand, checking to see that no Muggles were watching, before whispering, "Wingardium Leviosa." My luggage floated overhead before landing neatly in a trolley. "Well, what are you staring at? Hurry!" she demanded, bustling along toward the entrance to Platform 9 and 3 quarters. Once we'd passed through the gateway, the Hogwarts Express let out a final toot, the steam engine still not changed to a more modern train. My mother groaned, sending my luggage zooming toward the compartment in which all the students' luggage was kept. She handed me a duffel bag containing all the items necessary for the train ride.

"Run, Anika! You'll miss the train!" I jumped onto the Hogwarts Express, frantically waving goodbye to my mother. She waved back, a relieved expression passing across her face as she turned and left. I hurried down the aisle, looking for my friends when someone screamed, "Taser!" from behind me, sticking their index fingers into my sides. I let out a high-pitched scream, earning me some very irritated glances from some fifth-year Ravenclaws. I turned around to see my best friend, Patrick Finch-Fletchley, laughing along with James Potter, another friend of ours. 

"You idiots!" I yelled, laughing. Patrick put an arm around me, grinning. He had grown about a foot during the summer, looking lankier than ever. As usual, Patrick's golden blonde hair fell across his eyes in a Leonardo DiCaprio-style wave, his brown eyes twinkling and his already bronzed skin layered with freckles from his family's vacation in Bali. "What else are friends for?" James replied, smirking. James had always been exceptionally tall, which was why it didn't surprise me to see he had also grown quite a bit over the summer. I pushed back James' messy brown-black hair, allowing for his chocolate brown eyes to glitter in the dancing rays of sunlight.