Imperfectly Perfect

Chapter One - Freak

Yeah, I am a freak. But you know what? Someday, I just might grow out of that. But you, you will never stop being a jerk. -Mia Thermapolis; The Princess Diaries

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"...I'm sorry, Tunney! I'm sorry! Listen," I grabbed my sister's hand and held on tightly. She tried to pull away. "Maybe once I'm there- no, listen Tunney! Maybe once I'm there, I'll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind!"

"I. Don't. Want. To. Go!" My sister insisted. She wrenched her hand from my grasp. "You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a-a-"

She looked around Platform 9 3/4. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I realized what she was looking at. She saw the cats wriggling and struggling in their owners' arms. She saw the owls fluttering in their cages, and her eyes quickly glanced at my barn owl, Doctor. She noticed the students greeting each other after the summer holiday, some of the older ones already wearing their long black school robes, helping each other load large, bulky trunks onto a beatiful red and black steam engine that had to be the Hogwarts Express.

"- you think I want to be a- a freak?"

Those words still haunted me. I wiped away a salty tear as I remembered the first time I stood where I was standing. Seven years ago to the day, my sister, Petunia, uttered the last words she would ever willingly say to me. Freak.

I didn't even get invited to her wedding this summer. But I had swallowed my pride and showed up anyway, because Mum was still convinced that we were just having a little sisterly bicker and could not grasp the idea that our relationship might have been permanently damaged a long time ago. Petunia reacted just as expected. She threw a fit and demanded that I leave immediately before I "infected" the rest of her guests with my "freak" germs. Of course, my mother was horrified, but my sister refused to budge. I was escorted out my her new sister-in-law who, if you ask me, may have needed some serious psychiatric help. The entire time she was dragging me out of the church, she was talking about her dogs. I have never met some one who knew as much as she did about pittbulls and their aggressive habits, including ripping your limbs off if you irritated them.

As I stood on the platform for what would be the last time I went to Hogwarts, as I had decided that since I was Head Girl this year *squee*, I would stay at school over Christmas holiday.

I took a deep breath and looked around Platform 9 3/4. I knew I was going to miss the rush of going back to school when I graduated that year, but it would be worth it. I already had The Interview lined up for next summer. If I received the proper N.E.W.T.S., the job was practically mine. Well, that is, after I completed the required year of training and if I still actually wanted to to do it(I mean, it is one of the hardest jobs in Britain) afterwards. What if my coworkers (it sounds so weird saying that) don't like me? What if my boss is mean? What if- I'm getting off track. What I mean to say is that I was going to be an Auror, which is the wizard equivalent of a policeman, or, more accurately, the MI6, which had been my dream since I discovered the wizarding world.

Nothing could ruin this year.

I waved to my parents, who were speaking with Albert and Sarah McKinnon. Mum saw me and waved back, then elbowed Daddy and wispered something softly in his ear. He turned and smiled at me. He touched two fingers to the corner of his right eyebrow, then to his lips, then pointed them at me. I returned the gesture, our customary back to school salute. Yes, I'm a Daddy's girl, sue me.

Mum blew a kiss. Mr. and Mrs. Mckinnon waved, distractedly. Marlene, their daughter and my best friend, saw me and ran over, lugging a huge trunk that I knew only contained her clothes. She stopped to catch her breath and to wave over another one of our friends, Mary MacDonald, a Ravenclaw in the year below us. Mary hurried over to help Marlene carry her monstrosity, I mean, trunk, to where we would load it onto the scarlet and pitch steam engine. Marlene, ever the bubbly one, was already talking a mile a minute by the time she got over to where I was standing.