Snow On The Beach - Harry J. Potter

The family

     Cassandra Jackson awoke on the morning of September 1st to her cat wiggling her tail into the girl's face and making biscuits somewhere on her abdomen.

"Nyx, get off of me," the 11-year-old mumbled, still half asleep.

The cat in question, of course, didn't listen to her owner, and had instead moved to lay in Cassandra's lap, purring all the while. Deciding that she wouldn't be going back to sleep, Cassandra squinted her eyes whilst they adjusted to the morning light and turned to look at the clock hanging from the opposite wall.

8:37

Still too early in Cassandra's humble opinion. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb the black ball of fur still purring in her lap, knowing first-hand how easily the cat got offended. Looking around her room, she saw the maroon trunk with her initials still standing at her bedside, just how she had left it the night before, full of her clothes and school things. She wanted to bring all her books with her, but, as her mother had kindly reminded her, she wouldn't have any space left for clothes, which are apparently more important.

Needless to say, Cassandra didn't always see eye-to-eye with her mother.

Realising that she was just staring at wall for 10 minutes, Cassandra gently removed Nyx from her lap, apologising the whole time, and timidly approached her dresser in search of her outfit for the day. At least until she changed into her school robes, that is.

If there is one thing that should be known about eleven-year-old Cassandra, it's that she did not know how to put together a decent outfit. Years and years later, she would wonder why her parents had let her go out of the house dressed the way she was.

Now, however, she was rummaging through her dresser hoping to find something that worked well-enough together. She had no such luck and decided then and there that she didn't have enough clothes, despite the fact that she was starting to need a second dresser.

In the end she decided to bypass wearing other clothes altogether and dressed in her school uniform, the black tie and all. Her bathroom trip took a bit longer than expected because her frizzy hair kept getting knotted even after she brushed it, but she managed to come out victorious after all.

Another glance at the clock revealed that it was already 9:25, and that she should really go downstairs to spend some time with her parents and have breakfast.

Taking Nyx under one arm and her trunk with the other, Cassandra turned at the door to take one last look at her room, and softly closed the door behind her.

Already from the bottom of the stairs she could smell her mother's cooking, so she jumped down the last step (which proved to be a mistake as her trunk came barrelling down after her, making her almost trip), left her trunk in the hallway and lowered Nyx back to the ground before entering the kitchen.

"Oh, Cassie dear, I was just about to come up to wake you," Cassandra's mother, Anne, said as she finished setting up the table for breakfast. Cassie's mouth practically watered just looking at it.

Now, Anne Jackson was a woman of many talents, from being an excellent cook to an even better Healer, she also balanced being an exemplary mother and wife. Even on the days that she came home exhausted from working with sick people the whole day, she would insist on doing whatever they wanted for the night. "To show her appreciation", she would say.

When she was very little, Cassie thought her mother had to be a supernatural being of sorts to be able to pull everything off. Turns out she's just a witch. Still a superhero in Cassandra's eyes, though.

"Beat you to it," smiled Cassandra. "'Morning mum, dad." She kissed her mother's cheek before sitting down across her father and doing the same to him, with some difficulty.

"Watch your clothes darling, you don't want to get them dirty before the Sorting," her father playfully scolded while reading the newspaper.

Her father, Thomas, was an owner of a flower shop just down the street from where they lived. Being a Muggle, he didn't get to go to Hogwarts like her mom did, but Anne told them both stories of the magical school and all her adventures during her time there, so he knew almost all there is to know about the hidden world.

Her parents met when her mother walked into the flower shop her father had only started working in, a little after graduation. She started coming back to the shop just so she could see the cute boy working there and soon became a regular, but it took her father three years to pluck up the courage to ask her out. It didn't take him as long to propose and the rest is history.

Cassandra has heard the story so many times now that she thinks she could quote her parents word for word. Not that she's complaining, it's one of her favourite stories ever, and she loves to read, so that's saying something.

"Yeah, yeah, I know dad." Cassie piled her plate with a little bit of everything from the table, hungry as always. Cut her some slack, she's growing.

Her mother sat at the head of the table as she began eating as well, prompting her father to do the same.

"Right, while we're on that topic, are you worried about the Sorting, sweetheart?"

Cassandra slowly lowered her fork back on the plate and thought for a second. No, she didn't think she was, she knew her parents would be proud of her no matter what, they had said so a million times, so she told her mother as much.

"I'm glad," her mother replied. "Now remember, if you do get sorted into Slytherin and you hear other houses bad mothing yours, pay them no mind, they're just saying what they learned from their parents, who were scared during the war. And if anyone uses the fact that I was in Slytherin against you, you have my full permission to try out those curse words I know your father's been teaching you." She sends a look in her husband's direction, who has the decency to look ashamed and quietly mutter "sorry, sweetheart".

Cassandra, on the other hand, feels no regret and nods seriously.

"Great, now that's settled, you two better hurry up and finish your breakfast so we're not late. The train doesn't wait for anybody."

And with that, the family continued their breakfast in silence, only the sounds of forks scraping the plates could be heard.