Sammie woke the next morning with a sharp pain in her shoulder.
“Well its about time you woke up,” said her extremely bossy twin, Christy, who had been prodding her.
“What day is it?” Sammie asked sleepily as she did on most days.
“It’s dad’s birthday you troll! Get up!”
“Aye Aye captain,” Sammie said as she saluted her sister and rolled out of bed. She stood up and looked in the mirror. Her dark shoulder length hair stood out in odd places and was filled with knots. Her bright green eyes stood out in her freckled face. She quickly combed her hair and threw on a t-shirt and shorts, ran downstairs, and knocked Christy down a flight of them.
“Sorry Christy, I didn’t mean to!” she sang mockingly as she skipped down the stairs.
“Yeah right Samantha,” spat Christy, using the first name her sister despised. “You only meant to know me down six flights of stairs!”
“True statement Christina! Happy Birthday Daddy!”
Harry laughed, “Thanks Sam. Now since you’ve made your entrance, please go get the mail.” His daughter groaned, and reluctantly thumped up the five flights of stairs until she reached the little owlery on the sixth floor.
She picked up the bunch of letter that the family owls, Hedwig and Go, had left and looked at the addresses. She mumbled about who they were for quickly.
“Mom, Dad, Dad, Dad, Christy - Christy gets mail?! - and... ME?” She ran to the mail shoot that lead to the kitchen, and threw her family's mail down.
She sped up the stairs to her room. She plopped down on her bed and looked at the envelope. It read,
Ms. S. Potter
44 Westbury Ave.
London, England
United Kingdom
She tore open the heavy yellow parchment and read,
Dear Ms. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
She scanned the rest of her letter and started running, but tripping over Christy’s pet cat Starlit, she fell down the stairs and landed on her face. Her nose felt numb, and she could vaguely feel warm blood gushing from it.
Harry rushed over to her and helped her into a chair. Ginny immediately began healing charms to mend the broken nose, and clean up the blood. “Are you OK honey?” she asked Sammie sympathetically.
“I made it to Hogwarts,” Sammie said thickly, holding up the bloodstained letter.
“That’s great Sam,” her dad said cheerily, “Christy made it too.” Sammie just noticed that Christy was laughing uncontrollably. She scowled at her sister. Christy wiped a tear off her cheek.
“That wasn’t funny Christy. You better not bring that stupid animal to Hogwarts.”
“Hey, don’t call Starry a stupid animal,” said Christy in defense of the white ball of fluff in her arms. “You’re the animal here.”
“Well then you’d better not be bringing that attitude to Hogwarts.”
“Attitude? Me? Who’s the one who purposely knocked her sister down the stairs this morning?”
“You’d be best off not being so clumsy when you march down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeons!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Harry was glaring at the bickering girls. “No one, and I mean NO ONE, is going to have to suffer from house rivalries under this roof.” The youngest Potter, Felix, dropped his bottle with a wail. Harry’s expression softened. “No matter where the Sorting Hat puts any of you, you are a Potter and mum and I won’t love you any more, or any less. It’s not our houses who determine who we are, it’s our personalities.” He glanced from girl to girl, “Alright?”
Sammie and Christy both nodded.
“Ok then. Who wants to go to Diagon Alley for a wand?”
--------
Using floo powder was nothing big for Sammie and Christy. They had used it at their house, all their cousins houses, in sores, at Grandma’s, almost everywhere. After Felix had finally finished his wailing session enough to hold a bottle, they were finally able to approach the fireplace.
“Mum first,” said Harry.
“Alright,” Ginny answered, grabbing a tiny pinch of floo powder. “Here goes.” She stepped calmly into the fireplace and shouted, “Diagon Alley!” With an eruption of green flames, she was gone.
Sammie stepped forward into the wispy smoke, grabbed an enormous handful of powder, thrust it into the flames and. . .
“ AAAAAACCCHHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!”
A gigantic sneeze pushed its way out of her nose. She started spinning and spinning, faster and faster, going upwards and down through swirling blackness. She was knocked out cold as she hid her head on the hard brick walls that surrounded her. Spiraling lifelessly towards the earth. Landing on hot flames, bouncing from wall to wall.
Suddenly, she was yanked out with such a strong force, that had she been conscious, she might have broken her neck.
A few hours later, she half consciously stood up, but fell flat on her face with a sickening crunch. She immediately regained consciousness, and felt that her nose was once again dripping in warm blood. She didn’t recognize where she was at all. Obviously, she was sitting on the hearthrug of someone’s living room, but she couldn’t say whose.
“What on earth are you doing here?” said a voice from the doorway.
The Son of the Grim by James Jameson
Chapter Notes: i don't own this world :(