Feathers (A Hogwarts Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: The Letter and The Alley

August, 1987

"Mum, Mummy, the letter- I got it! The owl- letter- it's here!"

Now eleven-years old, Heather dashed into the kitchen from the back door holding her Hogwarts letter in her right hand, and her sister's in the other. The past few years were boringly filled with her mother teaching her how to control her metamorphic abilities as much as she could, and her father teaching her what she could've learned in a Muggle school.

"Are you sure you weren't seen by anyone dear?" Mrs. Holland anxiously asked as she took a bite of her toast.

Heather snickered. If it were not for the fact that they lived right beside the edge of the neighborhood's wood (which no suburban man, woman, or child in their right mind would dare to explore), she would have taken her mother seriously. "No, mum, unless someone was hiding up in the trees."

"Right, love. Now can you please turn your hair back to its natural shade of brown, the color's making my eyes hurt."

Heather looked up and saw that, indeed, her hair had become a screaming shade of neon yellow. In a blink, Heather had managed to fix it back to brown (and had decided to keep her colorful excitement located in the irises of her eyes- a good thing Heather had learned from her lessons when she really couldn't contain her emotion).

Jumping up and down (for Heather had been waiting for her letter even before the sun had fully risen), she carefully opened the envelope and gave her sister, Abigail, the other. Folded neatly inside were Heather's booklist and her invitation.

Heather sat down as calmly as she could and nibbled on her toast. Scanning the parchments, Heather exclaimed,

"Ooh, I wonder which House I'll be Sorted in!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Abigail replied, "you'll be in Slytherin, like me."

"I don't know, doesn't seem like me, does it?"

Heather, as her eyes turned green and silver, took a great bite from her piece of toast.

"Am I a Gryffindor?" She asked herself, and her eyes instantly turned scarlet and gold. "Hmm, I don't think I'm very brave."

"Ravenclaw? Maybe..." And Heather's eyes became blue and bronze.

"I seem a lot like a Hufflepuff." She said, after finishing her first piece of toast.

"Oh please," Abigail rolled her eyes, "Hufflepuffs are losers."

Mrs. Holland replied, "Now, now, Gail- I was a Hufflepuff."

Abigail looked down at her plate and murmured, "Sorry, mum."

Mr. Holland was busy reading the newspapers to say anything- and what could he say, since he was not a wizard?

"I'll let your father bring you to Diagon Alley. Then you could treat them for ice cream in Florean Fortescue's Parlour, George?"

George Holland looked slightly nervous, but nodded his head in reply. He was never much of a talker.

The Hollands finished their breakfast and began piling their dishes in the sink. Heather ran upstairs to her bedroom, all the while daydreaming about her first day in a Wizarding school.

Heather woke up to her mother lightly calling her name. She never was a heavy sleeper- Heather would wake up if someone had murmured her name in their sleep from another room (which caused a lot of problems when she was a needy baby).

Heather Holland got her clothes and practically ran to the bathroom. Today's the day, she thought. It would be her first day to step into the Wizarding world- Diagon Alley, to be precise.