The Cunning and Ambitious

Chapter One

My family is completely and udderly weird. There can't be a weirder family in all of London. My father is a writer, and an obsessive one at that. His books are scattered all across our house, piles of them, some just copies of some of his better books, and others are his precious manuscripts, hidden behind a glass shield. Dad barely does anything but writing. He's trapped himself behind his office, only coming out for breakfast and supper. I've rarely even been allowed in there. Only on special occasions, every other time has been quick peeks before he slams his door closed. His office, however, is not at all what I'd expect, knowing the chaos that is my house. The room can only be described by one color. White. Nothing but it. The first time I remember ever being in the room, the absolute absence of color had overwhelmed me and I started crying. Another thing is the absolute void of messiness. Definitely not something I'd imagine, knowing dad when he does come out of his workplace. There is no dirt, not even a little spilt sauce from his favorite Chinese place he always goes to on Tuesdays. The only objects inside the room is a brown, wooden desk, his silver computer, and a chair.

My mother on the other hand, is nothing like the weirdness of my father. Where as he's responsible for our house's chaos, then his work space is as strange as possible for a man like him, my mother's office at the University is a mess and her behavior at home is like she's become germophobic (which she isn't, as far as I know). Mum's a professor at Brunel University for myths and legends. She deals with all sort of crazy things. She teaches her students on Centaurs and Dragons, the truths on King Arthur, is there such thing of a hammer with similar properties of Mjolnir, the mighty hammer of the Norse god Thor, and well, you get the point. She's a believer in what scientists call fake and 'Just a bunch of old fables parents would tell their children.' She hates most scientists she meets, hense why she married a writer with a passion and an imaginative brain.

I love both of my parents. They are both the reasons I'm alive, am I right? However, up until this last school year, I saw them as inane. Believing in things that people ought not to believe in. Stuff that is completely untrue. And stuff that would insta-kill my life among my friends.

And then there was my little sister, Felicity, who's only two years younger than me. She's not as weird as my parents, but she definitely had her moments. We both did. Kitty, what I call her, wasn't as popular at school as I was. Where as I'm friends with the most popular kids in my class, Kitty only has one friend. I remember once, a boy in her class attempted to bully her. He punched he once and the moment his hand touched her face, he was covered in boils. After that he ran around school calling her a freak. Once I heard of this, I made him so scared he got his family to move to the other side of the country. After that, everyone at school knows that if they hurt Kitty, they have to face me.

"Aran!" Mum shouts for me in the living room, "Come here, please"

What on earth could she want me for? I think to myself, but go anyways. Surprisingly, my father's there too.

"What is it, mum" I ask in my "I'm-not-interested" voice.

"There is something your father and I have been waiting to tell you for a very long time." she says.

Dad picks it up from there. "Now, when I was boy your age, I lived in a household very similar to this. My house was chaos, my brothers and sister fought all the time, and my parents didn't quite know what to do, but since I was the oldest, my parents expected me to be an example. Which I set." he clears his throat, and looks nervously at mum. "Then at this time of year, a letter came to me and my family informing us about a special school that I went to, and where I met your mother. It was Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At first my family and I thought it was all a trick, but nevertheless allowed me to go, I soon found that it was all true. That I was a wizard, and that I could do magic-"

"You're joking. Is this like the beginning of a new book? Are you trying to see if I like it or not?"

"Honey-" Mum tries to explain.

"Magic isn't real. I learned that years ago."

"It is." she stops me. "I came from a family of Wizards and Witches, so I learned right away."

"Fine, if you're really a Wizard, prove it."

My dad moves, pulling out a thin slender rod of wood and holds it in front of me. Then he flicks his wrist. Before me, dad's books begin to rise and I stare in disbelief. It almost looks like he's building a castle of books.

Mum pulls out a similar piece of wood and she lights a candle using it.

I sit there. I knew there were things they hid from me, but I would've never imagined something like this.

"So, if you're telling me this, and if I understand your story correctly, where's my letter?"