Haunted

Potter the Squib?

"Shut up!"
"I will not!"
"Yes you will!"
"Smooch, smooch!"
"Shut up!"
"Will not!"
"You will too Albus!" Mum marched in, hands on hips, "your father has had a horrible day at work, I think he at least deserves a calmer environment to return home to!" I stuck to the shadows, not wanting to get involved in yet another argument about James' 'girlfriend'.
"Go to your room Albus!" Albus stomped out of the room and stuck his you tongue out at me as he passed my hiding spot. I put my middle finger up at him, and re-engrossed myself in my book. "LILY!" Mum had finally noticed I existed. "GO TO YOUR ROOM WE WILL HAVE NONE OF THIS MUGGLE SWEARING NONSENSE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!" I picked up Beedle the Bard and skipped up the stairs. Being sent to my room didn't seem like a punishment. I loved my attic bedroom.

In one corner was my desk, with my laptop, radio and phone. Surrounding the room, under the eaves, tucked away in every nook and cranny were my books. Muggle books, Wizarding books, books, books, books. Resembling the one in Narnia, there was a large wardrobe by the door, packed full of clothes and shoes. A dressing table sat under a large mirror, framed by hundreds of stickers, but my favourite thing was my bed. I slept on a window seat, looking out into the forest and it was the most romantic thing. Every morning a bird perched on the branch just outside my window, meaning my alarm still sat untouched in its packaging in the wardrobe, and every night the sounds and whispers of the forest sent me to sleep. I sighed as I sat on my bed and continued to read. Opposite my bed was a calender, Quidditch players zoomed in and out of the picture and the word JULY sat in bold lettering underneath. Two dates were circled in red, 25th and the 31st. The day I was supposed to be recieving my Hogwarts letter and the day I should send my reply. I felt bile rise in my stomach, it was the 24th, was I even going to Hogwarts?

No-one else thought I was. So far I'd shown no sign of magical abilities and Muggles didn't find me strange at all. Nothing was ever said to my face but last birthday, my ever tactless Uncle Ron had given me 'How To Cope With Being A Squib' and this morning, before he went to work, Dad had sat me down and told me that no matter what happened I would always be his special little princess. I knew I wouldn't be able to bare many more years staying at home whilst James and Albus went off to Hogwarts having all the fun. I needed comfort, and my only comfort came from books, shows, movies or food. I stared at the empty chocolate wrapper lying discarded on my bed, wishing I hadn't been so gluttonous and eaten in all in one. Then it happened. There was a soft whooshing sound and suddenly, lying on my bed was a full, untouched bar of chocolate. I gasped and grabbed it, storing it safely in my pocket. Running down the stairs, I forgot completely about my punishment, I had to tell Mum and Dad. Might I be going to Hogwarts after all?