Magic, Mischief and Mayhem

I sat down on my new bed with my leg's crossed. My new room was bigger. Much bigger. But that only made it smaller. 

It felt very empty, and smelt of sawdust and a Herbicide potion gone wrong. 

My possession's lay strewn across the room; clothes half-pulled out of boxes and books thrown across the room in a way that would make a librarian faint. My hand-sewn stuffed toy of a sniget sat next to me. 

'Nim! Come meet our neighbours with us!' My Mum yelled from the bottom of the ridiculously long, and winding staircase. I grunted in reply before stuffing a pair of battered green sneakers onto my feet sluggishly. It'd been a long and tedious drive down to the middle of England and I wasn't in the mood to go try and decipher what on earth these new people would be saying with their silly accents. 

'Mam, when's me letter from Hogwart's comin'?' I enquired, my drawling voice echoed throughout the quiet mansion. 

'Should be coming later this week, poppet.' She replied, tugging on her coat and boots. 

'Is dad not coming?'

'No, Nim. You know he has to go apply for his job at the ministry. I'm going next week, too. There's not many good magical job's in England, you know.' She explained to me, opening the door. I walked out after, pulling the creaky pile of crap after me. 

'Oh.' 

Half an hour later, we came back home sopping wet with our arms laden with jam and maps. I hate it here. Back in Wales, it was normal to speak like this and there were plenty of magical creatures to go hunt down in the woods. But, here, it was all muggles and plastic toys. 

'Where's Rima?' I asked, swinging open the fridge door, peering inside to see nothing of interest. 

'I just sent him out to suscribe to The Daily Prophet.' Mum sighed, leaning back on the kitchen counter, flicking her wand in the direction of the kettle. 

'Where's Kestler?' 

'In the attic. He wouldn't shut up, so he's going to live up there now.' I stared at her for a while and she finally cracked a smile, 'I'm joking. But he is in the attic.'

'Can I send a letter to Gwen and Miranda?' 

'Sure.' 

'Thanks.' 

I trudged up the long, twirling staircase once again, smearing mud all over the new carpet and I scrambled up the attic ladder. I was instantly greeted by the screeching of my dad's barn owl, Kestler. I made a lunge for him, and was unsuccessful. After several more attempts, I finally wrestled him to the ground; tugging a soggy scrap of parchment from my pocket and slipping it inside Kestler's leg pouch.

'This is for Gwen and Miranda, Felinaherb's Magical School for Girls. Please send it to the right person this time, you prat.' I sighed, pushing open the attic window, letting Kestler fly out noisily.

I sat on the floor, maybe I should just hide in here until my letter from Hogwart's came...

The End

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