Dear Reality... You're Nothing Like The Show

What Fandom?

"What fandom are you in?" The questionare asks. Obviously Twilight. Why else would I be on Pottermore? I personally think it's a strange  question for an online survey, but I type my answer in anyways. "The Harry Potter fandom, the Potterheads." I type. "Why?" It asked. Sure, you would think I would be getting the least bit suspicious about this, but hey. If you get chosen out of all the people who were doing this survey, you get some sort of, "special prize." I'm good with it if the prize was some donuts. "I am part of the HP fandom because the movies are great, the books are AMAZING, the actors are inspiring, and our fandom is lovely. We defend it from the worst kinds of villains, SPARKLING VAMPIRES." I twirl a strand of my wavy, dark brown hair. Ugh. Vampires. Why can't they have normal eyes, normal teeth, and a normal, uh, not craving for blood?
      In fact, I can't believe I even mentioned sparkling vampires in that. Twilight is the worst. The next question pops up: "If someone put a gun to your head and asked if you were part of your fandom, would you say yes or no?" I immediately type in my answer. I totally would die for Harry Potter. Literally, according to the survey. When on Pottermore taking the quiz for what Hogwarts house I'm in, the questionare  thing popped up, luring me in with the mention of "special prize." "DANIEL RADCLIFFE," was my first thought. "Thank you for taking this survey. It will greatly help us decide what features to add to Pottermore."
      That made no sense. How did that determine what features to add to Pottermore? Meh. I type in the required information so they could contact me if I won the prize, and flop down on my bed and submit it. Yassss. It is done. I flick on the T.V. with the remote and turn on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. In the middle of crying when Fred dies, the doorbell rings. Groaning, I drag my butt out of bed and open the door.
"Hey!" My best friend Belle exclaims. She sees me crying. "Fred died, right?" She asks. I nod my head slowly. "Welp, McDonalds should make you feel better!" She exclaims cheerfully. "You brought me a smoothie and a McMuffin, right? No greasy pancakes?" I question. I hate the pancakes there, whereas everyone else loves them to bits and pieces.
"A strawberry banana smoothie and a sausage McMuffin with egg is what you like. Of course I didn't get you a greasy pancake. I got me greasy pancakes!" Belle says. "Ank tou," I say, my mouth full. "You're a pig when you eat, Charlie." Belle looks at me, disgusted. "Oink, oink," I squeal, and we fall into a fit of giggles. "Hey, wanna do what normal 18 year olds do in the mornings?" Belle asks, and I know what she's talking about. "You mean...the thing?" I question. "Yes, the thing," Belle answers with a smirk on her face.
    Getting the message, we head out to Luc's house, across the street from my apartment. We sneak around the back, and crawl through his bedroom window. He's a light sleeper, and thank goodness the window doesn't squeak, so we should be able to wake him up. "GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING, THE SUN SHINES ON A CHEESE MILL, AND HARRY POTTER IS PLAYING QUIDDITCH, WHILE FRED AND GEORGE AND RON AND LUNA AND NEVILLE AND HERMIONE AND GINNY ALL DO OTHER STUFF ALONG WITH THE REST OF THE OTHER HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS. THE SUN'S AWAKE AND WE'RE AWAKE SO GOOD MORNING!" We scream obnoxiously. Luc is awake by the second verse! "WHAT THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" He shouts at us. Knowing Luc, he obviously wanted to say something other than heck. "Harsh," I mutter. "This is America! Are we not allowed to enter  a friends house in Washington?" She questions. "NO YOU AREN'T!" Luc shouts back at her. "Harsh," she whispers to me. "OUT!" He yells. We scramble out the window, and sprint to my apartment, Luc swearing at us. Bruh. He is our best friend, but he loves his sleep. Lots. Breathless, we rush inside, a smile playing on my lips. We start laughing hysterically. "That. Was. HILARIOUS!" Belle says between laughs. "
      "THE SUN SHINES, ON A CHEESE MILL," I repeat. "How did we think of that?" She says, breathing hard. "Duh. My bedroom." We climb the stairs to my room, and look around. The Gryffindor bedspread is neat, and the pillows have the colors of the Houses on them. My robes, scarf, wand, broomstick, and pretty much all the merchandise from when we visited The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is here. Posters are plastered on the walls, and as is too much HP merch to count. I pop an Every Flavor Bean in my mouth and exclaim,"Alas, Earwax!"
      "That's disgusting." Belle frowns. "I think we got the Harry Potter part of the song from your room..." "And the cheese mill part from when you were hungry." Belle wanders around my room, before plopping down on my bedspread, nearly missing my babies. Meaning my Harry Potter books and movies. "GAH DON'T HURT THEM!" I screech. Belle doesn't jump, unsurprised by my reaction. She's done it by accident millions of times. I hit her with my Death Drinker pillow. "DON'T. TOUCH. MY. BABIES," I shriek, repeatedly hitting her with my pillow. She screams, and grabs my Gryffindor pillow. "NOT GRIFFY!" I yell. Yes, I name my pillows. That one is my favorite. Belle sprints down the hall, knowing the danger she's in, and is out of sight. She's probably hiding behind the T.V again; that's her go-to spot. Too lazy to hunt her down, I go upstairs and change into Vans, shorts, and a Harry Potter shirt that says, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Since it's summer, I grab sunglasses as well. I go downstairs to see Belle drinking coffee, watching The Walking Dead, just when a person's guys are pulled out. "That is completely and utterly disgusting," I mutter. Belle doesn't answer, completely oblivious to my presence. She is still holding my Gryffindor pillow. "I'm going to work, you know the rules,"I state.
      "No touching Harry Potter stuff, no eating all your food, and no stealing," she replies, her eyes on the screen. She suddenly bursts into tears when someone dies. "DARYL, NO!" She screeches. "Ok, bye..." I trail off. "Bye," she says through tears. Sometimes I worry about that girl. I drive to work in my convertible, and walk in. The world of... Toys R Us. My shift is 3 hours long, so I'll be here awhile. I almost got fired once for watching Harry Potter in the break room, but Jen, my coworker, bailed me out, saying I was "merely checking to see if the DVD worked." My boss, Richard, still has his eye on me though.
After a long shift, (and a couple angry customers) I finally head home. When I open the door, I see Belle passed out on the couch, a bowl of ice cream in her hand. Her copper-colored hair was sprawled out behind her, and her amber eyes were shut. She was drooling. Typical. Knowing she'll want pizza later, I call Mountain Mikes. "Hello, my name is Joe. What can I get you?" "A large pepperoni pizza with root beer." "Ok, that will be $19.47." I tell him my address. "Your pizza will be there in 45 minutes." An evil idea pops into my head.
      "I DID MY WAITING." I scream into the phone. "TWELVE YEARS OF IT." The pizza guy doesn't respond. "IN AZKABAN." I hang up, hearing the pizza guy mumble about "always having that happen." Classic me.

HELLO!! It's me. I was wonderi- ok I'll stop. So hello. It's Ashlynn! This is the first chapter of a new book (as you can tell) and I am SO excited for it! I've decided my audience will be teens, so I'm writing Teen Fiction! Yay! Comment anything, you loved it, you have tips for me, you died when she sang a song about a cheese mill... And maybe send me some ideas! That would be really cool!
One last thing- please don't be the mysterious SHADOW READERS. Comment, vote, just let me know how it is!
Xoxo
Ash