Chapter 2.

"You have no business here. Get out of my pub." Safia Brooks, at all but rather plump woman with short blond curls atop of her aging face, orders sternly, the threat clearly there even as she’s refusing to look me in the eye.               

I scowl at her as I get to my feet, walking out of the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade where I’m now in my long purple robes. I get told to get out a lot.

Can't really go anywhere apart from with the Muggles, but they bore me. I see no need to go through the boredom of that when the Wizarding World calls so very clearly to me.

I look up at and see the magnificent castle which is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardary. I smile up at it slightly, excitement in my eyes. I've drawn this castle so many times, always in the dark like it is whenever I see it. Always empty. But this year it's going to be different.

This year, I, Lexie Destry, am going to Hogwarts!

It will be my first year there but I am entering the fourth. I've just moved from my old school, Beelractiars, where I have been taught since I was 9.

Now I am 14, going on 15, and this year will be better then previous; I hope.

I slowly walk out of Hogsmeade, taking in all of my surroundings. Once I'm at the familiar hill that overlooks the Shrieking Shack, I sit down on my normal place on the cold ground. The villagers say the Shack is haunted, but that rumor only started three years ago, due to all of the unearthly wails that come from it at certain times of the year.   

Personally, I think it's just some kids from nearby messing around. Coming out of school, making noises, mucking about, just so no one goes near their 'den'.

It is funny how gullible, the villagers from Hogsmeade, and everyone else can be. The Shrieking Shack isn't the only stupid rumor they believe in. They believe in many, many, more. Some of these rumors are the reason why I get told to get out of places like the Three Broomsticks.

After a long time sitting and looking at the Shrieking Shack I get to my feet as my stomach rumbles. Next time I come here, I must remember to bring my sketch pad; here the view is perfect for my sort of drawing. And some food.

I dust myself down and head home at a hurried sprint as my stomach gives out another growl.

The End

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