Harry, Kat, and Spellbound ➩ Book 1 [Harry Potter] | #Wattys2016

[CHAPTER 3] New Home

Kataleen

I couldn't help but feel different in a new environment, especially a -- literally -- magical one. The Beryls seemed nice, which eased my discomfort by a quarter. And knowing that they're my godparents makes me feel way safer, safer than I actually felt with Hagrid.

We arrived at a rather simple house in a small community. All houses there looked the same, except this house, which had a bright orange fence and colourful ribbons surrounding the chimney rather than the plain white fence and simple chimney.

"Well, this is our place," Mr. Beryl said, knocking on the fence gate. "Junior! You there?"

There were some stomping sounds before the main door of the house went open, revealing a boy with straight brown hair and a stature just a bit more than mine. He unlocked the gate.

"Hey, Mum. Dad. And... who are you?"

I looked at him with a rather sheepish smile, extending my hand. "Hi, uh, I'm Kataleen. Kataleen Wilton. Mr. and Mrs. Beryl are my --"

"Godparents," he cut in with a smile, his hands still clasped behind his back. As I let my hand fall down to the side, knowing he wouldn't shake it yet knew he was friendly just the same, he said, "Come on in."

We walked inside. Just as I was about to turn around to close the door, it closed by itself, even if it wasn't windy. I took a step back, then turned around again to face the Beryls. On a stove was a pan making hot cakes by itself.

"Whoa," I couldn't help but say upon seeing it, and Mrs. Beryl giggling as she placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry about our place. It's not really what you'd call pleasant," I heard Arlin, the younger one, say, making me turn around from looking at the stove near the doorway to the main house.

The place was a bit messy, with couches in random alignments and some bits of clothing thrown carelessly on the banister. On the floor there were black footprints that slowly faded, and some powder on the side, as well as some bread crumbs not too far from my feet.

"Well, nothing a bit of cleaning up can't fix, I guess," I said with a smile, looking from the crumbs to him. Only then did I realise he was wearing some sorta long, yellow and red robe and holding a broomstick.

He must've noticed me looking at it, as he said, "I'm a member for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. My friends and I practiced earlier."

Seeing my puzzled look again he added, "Quidditch is a sport. You'll find out more when you get to Hogwarts."

"Oh. Apparently I have a lot to learn," I said with a small smile.

"Yeah. Apparently. The day sure is pleasant, isn't it?" Arlin said, looking out the window. The trip to the Leaky Cauldron had me dozing off, and Hagrid woke me up when we reached the place. I woke up, actually, when we were resting under a tree and the sun was rising.

"Now, Arlin. If you plan to invite me to one more of your Quidditch games, I have a guest to attend to," Mr. Beryl chuckled, looking at me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Aw, come on, Dad! Just admit that you don't want it rubbed in the face that your son's better in Quidditch than you were," Arlin teased, poking his broom handle at his father.