" now think about what to do, think about what to say, think about how to think before voldemort comes and takes that away from you, harry. "
" how did we end up here, in the undying chaos, when we started out with a simple piece of chocola...
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"wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathe in your dust."
-artic monkeys, "i wanna be yours"
-
The fourteen-year-old was late.
Truth be told, she was late to everything she did. Everyone knew she would barely make it to the train station, not going to give her parents a proper goodbye. They would push her onto the train, ignoring the judgmental looks from other parents at the station - that was just how they were. Her friends wouldn't judge, though. They would laugh when she entered the compartment, red and out of breath, panting to them another random reason she was late that year.
Second year it had been how her cat, Sergio, was hiding from the family because he hated to be put in his carry-on bag. She had made it with five minutes to spare. The year after that was the breakfast fiasco. Her younger brother had done accidental magic and blew up their breakfast of pancakes and loads of syrup. The first year and the third year showed up with sticky hair and two minutes to spare.
This year was different. Of coarse, there had been an accident. Only this time it was her own fault. She was trying to find her dress, the own the school had required for them this year. She had left it hanging by her window. Because nothing ever went right on the first of September, the gorgeous black floor-length dress was ripped to shreds by her brother's brown owl, Jacques. His owl was a menace; nothing ever went right with Jacques, he would rip the letter with his talons, or just peck at the person that he was delivering to. Jacques had flown in through her open window, and when he saw no one was in the brightly colored room, he dropped the letter and started scratching at the pristine dress.
She began crying when she saw the expensive dress on the ground, and no one could blame her. The black floor-length dress had cost too much money to end up on the floor - the girl had worked all summer at their local art store to save up for it. Her brother and mother had raced to her room to see what the matter was, it was then that her brother almost started crying. He recognized it was his fault and was apologizing profusely. She accepted them, but continued bawling into her mother's shoulder. The woman was trying to console her daughter while encouraging her son to finish his packing in his own bedroom. It wasn't working for both were hysterical about Jacques and the black floor-length dress.
Their father came into the room, then. He looked over the scene and shook his head. Every year he would ask himself why they even bothered, and every year he would watch as his son and daughter's faces brightened as the long red train tugged them off to a school he never heard of. His wife had gone there, being like their children. But he wasn't like them, he was ordinary.
"Berkley, go finish packing your things," he scolded his son. The twelve-year-old had prolonged packing for school too long and now it was coming back to bite them. Berkley continued crying as his father pulled him to his room to hurry along the packing.
