My Brilliant Ginger

Chapter One

I'm finally eleven.

That's all I can think as I slowly slip my feet out from under the covers of my soft, twin size bed with a wooden bed frame. I sit for awhile, observing my room as I try to wake myself up.

My bed sits in the middle of the room against the wall opposite of the door. My grey walls are nothing special and do nothing to compliment the simple brown furniture. The cabinet that holds all of twelve articles of clothing that I own, sits to the left of my bed, sitting so close together they're almost touching. There's a small wooden chair in the opposite corner which I love to sit in most of the time when I'm not tidying the kitchen or weeding the front garden. My favorite part of the room stands to the right of my bed. My bookshelf is my pride and joy. Many books with old, rustic covers are sprinkled in with the new, slightly modernized stories. But my absolute fvorite books, are the magic textbooks.

Even though I'm a non-magic human - or a muggle, as people in the Wizarding World would call it - I've always believed in magic. So when I was younger, my parents and I did much research and found old books from the Wizarding World. We eventually learned about a school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry which is a seven year school for students who wish to become witches and wizards. Almost immediately after I learned about the school, I convinced my parents to let me apply. At first they were cautious since they are muggles and know hardly anything about magic and the potential dangers that could be lurking. But I told them it was completely safe and they wearily agreed.

Now, the day of my eleventh birthday, is exactly one week before I depart from Platform 9 3/4 and make my way to Hogwarts. But today, August 25th, my parents and I are going to Diagon Alley to buy all the things I might need for the upcoming year.

I turn my head to look at the old brown clock on my wall and read the time as 9:15 AM. As I tiptoe put of bed, my feet hitting the rough carpet, I hear my door creak open and watch as my small calico kitten crawls in. The corners of my mouth creep up and I walk over to him, picking the little creature up to pet his furry head.

That's when I hear it. A low humming noise coming from outside the window above my small bed. I carefully drop the cat to the ground before I creep over and pull the dull canvas curtain away just slightly enough to where I can sneak a glance without being seen.

Since our small and peaceful two story house is in the middle of nowhere, not a lot happens. So whenever I hear or see something out of the ordinary, my curiosity spikes. It can be both a blessing and a curse.

I peek out of the dusty window, and peer around, searching in the quiet morning light. Finally, against the sunlight, I spot a small, blue - actually I'm not sure what that is. I squint, trying to distinguish what in the world it is. I eventually give up, unable to identify the shape. All I know is that it's blue. Blimey.

I wait for a minute, carefully studying the object in the air, only to
establish that it's moving closer. I wait for a while longer, until I can finally see the shape. My breath hitches in my throat in anticipation as the object nears. Finally, I see it. My mouth gapes in awe as I stare.

It's a flying car.

Oh bloody he-

My thoughts are suddenly cut off as my mother calls my name, alerting me that breakfast is ready. I turn around to look at my door, but the very moment I look back to the flying car, it's gone. It just disappeared. My thoughts run wild as I change into my favorite light blue button up shirt with a pair of tan corduroy pants. I then carefully brush my soft and straight deep and dark brown hair, while deciding to leave it down for the day.

I stare in the mirror hanging next to the wardrobe and study my reflection. I don't have any siblings, which means my looks are unique, although I have a little bit of genes from both sides of my family. My wide and soft green eyes compliment my dark brown hair which carefully lines my face, just barely falling past my shoulders. My small nose is sprinkled with light freckles from spending warm summer days in the sun, and my rosy cheeks make my lips look more pink than they really are. I've never tried to make myself different from what I look like. What's the point anyways? Why care what people think? I've read somewhere that self-confidence boosts morale and lifts others up too. For that reason, I try to do the best I can to be happy with my appearance so maybe my parents won't be so downhearted all the time. I just want them to be happy. But sometimes I catch my mother crying to my father. Something's troubling them but I don't know what...

"Daisy Heartwood you best come down before your food gets cold." My mother says as she opens the door to my small room.

"Alright I'm coming." I tell her with a small smile. She grins in response before shutting the door with a click. I gather the list that Hogwarts kindly provided with the acceptance letter that contains a list of the needed supplies for the year. After I scoop up the kitten, Frankie as we like to call him, I carefully open the door and step down the stairs, shutting it behind me.

I skip the last step as I reach the bottom and I set Frankie on the floor before he swiftly scurries behind the sofa. I turn left to enter the small kitchen, and my nostrils thank me. The sweet scent of caramelized apples and cinnamon scones fill the air around me as I waltz to my seat at the circular table in the corner of the kitchen. A plate of food is suddenly set in front of me and I turn to see my father smiling at me.

"Happy eleventh birthday my Daisy." He sweetly says.

"Thanks. I'm really excited for today." I state as I take a bite of scone with clotted cream. My mother's face drops ever so slightly as she sets down a glass of orange juice behind my plate before sitting down next to me.

I don't know what my parents are so worried about. The Wizarding World is very safe for there are many, many good witches and wizards. One of them being Albus Dumbledore who is known as the most powerful wizard. He also happens to me the headmaster at Hogwarts so it's perfectly safe. Nothing bad can happen, and I've made that perfectly evident to my parents. So what's bothering them so much?

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Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you have any feedback, I'm completely open to suggestions to improve my writing skills.

And after each chapter I'm going to ask questions about what I should do in the next few chapters and give you shoutouts if I use your idea :)

QUESTION ONE: Which character should Daisy meet in Diagon Alley?

QUESTION TWO: What do y'all think the Weasley's car was doing in Daisy's part of town? :)

Okey that's it haha... thanks again for reading I really hope y'all enjoy it, and honestly y'all reading this
means a LOT to me, like you don't even know haha...

*DISCLAIMER* All of the recognizable characters and storyline/plot belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I only own characters such as Daisy and her parents. Thanks :)

Word count: 1339