Chapter 2

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I don't own the lyrics used in the song "Riot" by three days grace. Nor do I own the video, I'll link here, in case you want to hear the full song. Harry do the disclaimer:

Harry: MrsDarylDixon5094 does not own any of the characters from J.K Rowling's Harry Potter series. She only owns the OC's Clara and Jamie Black. She also doesn't own any of the songs used in her stories. She has simply heard them and decided to use them in a chapter.

*Clara's POV*

Ten years later.

I was hanging around the apartment, waiting for my friend, Hanivila, to come over.

She's a muggle unlike me, so I unfortunately can't go to Hogwarts this year with her.

Hanivila and I have been friends since kindergarten, where I stole her juice box at snack time and she skipped me in line for kickball.

The very next day we were best friends. Life is strange, I guess.

That's a good thing, I don't really have any muggle friends, due to the strange stuff that happens when I'm really excited, mad, or scared. Hanivila. has gotten used to it over the years and has accepted it as part of the best friend package.

At the moment, I'm rocking out in my bedroom, (used to be a study until mom fixed it up for me, when I turned three) to the song "Riot" by Three Days Grace. I jump on the floor, air guitar and singing at the top of my lungs;

"Let's start a riot, a riot.

Let's start a riot

Let's start a riot, a riot

Let's start a riot."

As you probably guessed, the neighbors don't like me much. Because I'll do this even at midnight. Did I mention the stereo was on max volume?

Mom came into the room and shouted over the stereo, "Vil's here, Clara!"

I turned off the stereo and pulled Vil into my room. Mom turned around to go back to the kitchen. She was baking cookies for us and, hopefully, going to receive my Hogwarts letter.

"Hey, C.A." Vil said, cheerily. She always abbreviated my name like that. Either, C.A. for Clara, or C.B for Clara Black. She used the second one when she's mad at me. I didn't mind. It was just how Vil talks. In return, I abbreviated her name to Vil.

Hey, Vil." I said, turning to face her. She and I were total opposites, she was blonde, I was black-haired, she had curls, mine was straight, she was tanned, I was pale, She had brown eyes, I had grey, her hair was textured, mine was silky smooth, She was covered in freckles, I had none, she was a little on the shrimpy side, I was tall, She was shy, I was brave, she was artistic, I was logical, she was an open book, I was reserved, she was sweet, I was cunning.

We were the half the other needed to be a whole. Ying and Yang and all that jazz.

"I heard you all the way down at street level, and that's ten floors down." She flopped on the bed next to me.

"Yeah, the neighbors hate me." She shoved me, and chuckled.

"That's not true. You're such a helpful person to them, that't they put up with loud music blaring from your room at midnight."

"Say what you will. I don't believe it."

"So, you get into that boarding school your mom went to when she was a kid?"

"Not yet." She heard the anxiety in my tone.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the letter."

"God, I hope so."

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