It was early October and the signs of Autumn were setting in. There was a sharp nip of frost in the air, making for quite a cold a dreary evening. Rain pattered on the window still, warping the glow of the moon in the inky black sky, visible through a crack in the curtains. I sat in my normal, comfy sofa, just like old times, scrolling through Instagram on my phone with one hand, and absentmindedly twirling my wand with the other. My wand, made from Beechwood with a Hippogriff feather core, was meant to have no strengths or weaknesses, an outstandingly average wand for an average guy. The Hippogriff feather core means the wand demands constant respect, which meant it backfired many times when I was younger and had little confidence in my abilities, which could be the reason why I was never as good at school as my older sister with her fancy Unicorn Hair and hazel wand, overall, however, it was a good wand which barely let me down. Furthest to my left was my sister Gemma, curled up on her sofa amongst blankets and a cat perched on her lap. She was using magic to turn the pages of her book she was so absorbed in because her level of lazy was unreachable by any other member of this household. Between us on the larger couch sat my mother's husband, and my stepfather, Robin, doing his ritual nightly reading of the Daily Prophet, probably the only newspaper my name had never appeared in, a feat which I would like to keep that way. Next to him was my mother Anne, crouched over her laptop, trowling the internet for perhaps and a new recipe for dinner, or a potion to keep the gnomes away. The television hummed in the background, almost un-noticeable, background noise. It was about 10:30 when Robin lifted his gaze from the paper and addressed the household. "Anyone heard anything about those kids down in Liverpool?" he asked, his voice hinted with a tone of concern. "Nothing of it" replied mum "Just some kids stirring trouble, isn't it?". "I hope so," he said in a gruff tone. "Aren't they planning on storming the ministry in London?" asked Gemma "At least that's what I heard" "It says here that they are nothing to worry about, just a bunch of kids trying to gain the attention of the media?" said Robin. "What are they protesting?" I asked, curious as to what everyone was on about. "Don't you lot be worrying about anything, it's just a few rowdy kids who don't know what to do with themselves now they've graduated from Hogwarts, what's the worse they can do! their parents will find out soon enough and that will be the end of that" said mum matter of factly. "It's getting late anyway I think it's time for me to head to bed." And that was the end of that, not another word was uttered about the 'rowdy kids' from down south again. Not for a while at least.
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chapters are a little short and sweet, I hope they are ok. Vote and comment feedback if you'd like more
- L xx
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FRAMED - A One Direction/ Harry Potter Crossover fic
FanfictionThe rise of radical wizards wishing to follow in the footsteps of Grindelwald and 'finish his plan' has led to the Ministry of Magic to crack down on all young wizards aged 15-25, calling each and every one of them in for questioning. However, the M...