Harry Potter x Reader

First Year - Wizards & Witches don't exist

"I'm the one who makes the pranks, not the other way 'round."
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Hey! And welcome to the first chapter! Just a quick message to let you know that I use 3 POV's. (Y/N)'s, Harry's & Third person. Anyways.. enjoy!
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                     (Y/N)'s POV

"Wake up! Come on! We have to sort this out!" she yelled whilst banging on my bedroom door acting as though it were a punching bag.

"Ok, ok, you don't have to wrestle the door!" I reply, fustrated.

"I'm not having your cheek today. I was NOT wrestling the door."

"Oh really? Didn't know that."

I expected a reply but there wasn't one. Maybe she really WAS going to leave me alone this time.

This was my life. I live in Central London and I don't have any parents. Just one framed picture of them, that was all. I was told that they were killed by a mad man and nothing more. But, I did what I always do, pesture them for more info. It was like a habit for me.. to not listen to a word they say.

I walked across the very small corridor and into the bathroom. Washed my face, brushed my teeth and combed my (h/c) hair. I walked back into my room and changed my clothes. That was the only good thing I had around here, decent clothing.

Ready for the exhausting day, I walked down the creaky stairs careful not to trip and fall. I opened the clean glass door to reveal the smell of eggs and bacon.

I sat down on the chair that I usually sit in, or had to sit in, cause it was the only decent place where I could get the view of everything that surrounded myself.

"Ok, you're down. Finally! Now, we're going out to shop and you are going to-"

"Stay here? Nothing new then." I finished off.

She pursed her lips as she straightened her long skirt.

This was my foster mother. Built like a stick if you ask me. She had black hair that resembled the night sky and dark eyes that signified her personality. She was quite tall but only about 5'9. Her hair wasn't as long and only reached to about the bottom of her giraffe like neck. Her name was Prudence Fishers.

"Your breakfast's on the table. Quickly eat so we can chuck the plate and cutlery into the dishwasher before we leave." said the not-so-fat man.

That was my foster dad. He barely had any hair on his head. Ok, I'm exaggerating. He did have hair, but the bare minimum. He was almost as tall as my foster mother but she beat him to it. His name was Claud Fishers.

I rapidly finished my eggs and bacon, though I didn't have that much so it was easy to devour so quick.

"Now, you're to leave our devices alone." Prudence said, waving a finger at me.

"I don't like it when people wave their stick-like finger at me."

"You don't go outside." (she had put her finger down).

"I have no reason to."

"You're not allowed to touch our mail."