❝ such an anomalous view from what should be mine ❞
⟶ 𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱
an anomalous girl
attends a school
for witches and
wizards, and catches
the eye of the most
famous one yet. . .
❝ and yet i am nothing but anomalous ❞
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Art. That's what Avery Sterling thought of whenever her mother ─ Pandora or Delia ─ was brought up. Both of them loved to paint as if it was their last day. As if the paint was their words, and the canvas was the sentence. In some forms, yes, it was. It was their way of speaking the things they couldn't, the things most people wouldn't get. They turned their words into beautiful and torturous paintings, that would later rest in the room belonging to Avery. She'd wake up, and think about the morning sun that rose, the morning sun that shone through the windows of the peculiar room. And then think about her mother ─ Delia Sterling ─ and her paintbrush, nestled between her forefinger and thumb, dancing across the canvas.
Then she'd remember that Delia had said goodbye to her. That Delia had left her in a cylindrical home with her close cousins. One that looked like a rock and one that felt cold. Her old cottage that she was comfortable in was sold. It was given to a happier family, one that was not broken. One that did not have an abnormal child, that would skip home each night with a basket of daisies, rambling about the beautiful sparks that would fly from her fingertips.
All her parents saw was an imaginative little girl who wished magic was real. And she did. She really, really did. She saw magic as an escape from the real world. If it existed, maybe she could've changed her mother's mind about separating the last two Sterlings. Nobody ever told her that it did exist, though.
So when a creme-colored letter appeared outside of the cylindrical "home", Avery couldn't have been more excited. She had loftily made her way outside, stopping by the wall of house as she watched a bunny hop through the tall grass. She gave the owl a small pat on the head, accepting the letter with care.
"Xenophilius?" She called as she stepped back in. Xenophilius ─ a weird and sophisticated man ─ was Luna's father, and was also the editor of the Quibbler. He had bleach blonde hair that stopped just at his shoulders, and he kept it nice. He wore odd clothes that definitely earned him a few extra looks, but Luna nor Avery would love him any less for it.
"Yes?" He asked as he walked into the round sitting room, holding a tray of tea. A bouncy ten year old Luna Lovegood followed her father in, sitting next to Avery. "Is that your letter to Hog-a-warts?" She questioned.
"Hogwarts. And yes, it is. I can make a smart guess that I've been invited to attend─ Xenophilius, may I?" She asked, looking away from Luna's large glassy eyes.
"May you what?"
"Oh, attend Hogwarts of course," smiled Avery. She could only dream of the large castle. Her mother had told her many stories, of course, but it was the main reason she had used fantasies as an escape from reality. She had imagined the ancient castle for years now, and now she finally had the chance to see it with her own eyes.
"What do you need for the year?" Asked Xenophilius as he slurped on his tea. Luna was looking around the room as if she was a special guest, seeing the abnormal house for the first time.
"Just a couple of things. . ."
▆▇▆▇▆
The train started its journey along the tracks, and Avery stared out the window, waving softly at a small Luna, who stared wide-eyed at the trains, her pink spectrespecs resting on her head. Avery walked along the slim walkway, her trunk and owl cage in hand. She opened up a compartment door, staring at the two kids inside of it.
"Hello," she said, placing her trunk in the luggage rack above, sitting down with her owl's cage next to her. The ginger haired boy looked at her in slight shock, while the raven haired boy looked at her with happiness. "I'm Avery Sterling," she introduced.
"Ron Weasley," the ginger boy said to her, eyeing her slightly. She nodded, a small smile on her face. Sure, he thought that she was abnormal, but she didn't really mind. Her mother had always taught her that it not matter what others will think, but the only matter is what you think. That was when her speech started to get worse.
"Harry─," the raven haired boy started.
"Potter. Yes, I know. It's quite hard to miss as you are more than less famous," she nodded, opening up her teal blue Quibbler article. Harry nodded slightly.
It was silent for a bit as the two young boys just watched her read. She placed her Quibbler down in her lap after a while. "If you two are staring at me with the question of what I'm reading, it's highly interesting. It's about Wrackspurts."
"Wrackspurts. . .?" Harry wondered aloud.
Avery sighed. "They're small little creatures that float in one ear and out the other. They make your brain quite fuzzy." Her voice was soft and lofty, music to Harry's ears as he listened to her explain it to him.
"Enough about wackysports ─ what house are you guys hoping to get in?" Asked Ron, speaking up as a licorice wand hung from his mouth. "I hope I'm in Gryffindor. It's by far the best house. My whole families been in it for a long time!"
"That's very prejudice of you to say. All the houses are equal in greatness," Avery spoke to him, folding her Quibbler up into her lap.
"Slytherin's the worst! All the bad people in the Wizarding World are from Slytherin!" Ron argued.
"Don't be silly. My mother was in Slytherin and she was a great person. Besides, Merlin was in Slytherin and he was a great man," Avery countered, turning away from Ron. "What house do you hope to be in, Harry?"
"Uhm. . . I don't know," he spoke, not knowing the houses or what their purpose is.
"Well I hope to be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. As I've said, my mother was a great Slytherin, and my uncle was in Ravenclaw. They both had a great way with magic," Avery said kindly as she looked at them both.
"Speaking of magic, my brothers ─ Fred and George ─ taught me some!" Said Ron, reaching into his hand-me-down trunk and pulling out a battered old wand. He scooped up a fat rat and placed it on his lap. "Stay still, Scabb─"
The compartment door flung open, revealing a bushy haired girl with abnormally large front teeth. "A boy named Neville's lost his toad, Trevor, we haven't had any luck with finding him. Have you seen it?"
She looked around the compartment, landing on Ron and his rat, along with his crooked old wand. "Oh, you're going to do some magic? Let's see it then," she said, crossing her arms as Ron swallowed.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!" He jerked his wand towards the sleeping rat, which stayed sleeping and didn't change a bit.
"Well that's quite disappointing. All of the magic I've done has worked out great," smirked Hermione triumphantly. "I'm Hermione Granger."
"I'm Avery Sterling," she spoke, smiling softly.
She simply nodded, turning away. "Holy crickets! You're Harry Potter!" She gushed, her eyes turning wide as she stared at Harry, he lifted his bangs, showing her the scar. Her smile disappeared slightly as she turned to Ron.
"And you are?" She asked as she stared at a chocolate-eating Ron.
"Ron Weasley," he spoke, tilting his head up slightly so as to not let the chocolate drop.
"Pleasure," she spoke with articulating disgust. She sighed. "Well, if you happen to see a toad, return it to Neville Longbottom." And with that, she walked off.
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it. . ." Ron muttered.
