Chapter 1 : Of Supposed Best Friends and Extreme Ginger Syndrome
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I'm not sure about this one. So positive feedback would be great, thanks.
Hi there. The name’s Alyssa Nelson. Yes, daughter of famous International Quidditch star Maria Nelson, good-looking, charming, courageous Gryffindor and all that jazz.
Yeah. I wish.
No, here’s my real story. I’m Alyssa Nelson. My mom’s dream is to become a Quidditch player, but she’s a heavy drinker and no one will ever hire her. Actually, her excuse is that the pub ties her down, but I don’t think that’s it.
We live over our pub, The Troll’s Leg, which is located in the worst part of Godric’s Hallow. You know. That area where you get old Death Eaters and drunken hoboes, and homeless teens. That place. We live on DeLancey Street. The worst street of all. Our rent space over the pub is in bad condition. It’s a four-room space. It’s moldy and dilapidated, and I’ve fallen through the floor at least twice. I have a bedroom, mom had a bedroom, we have one small bathroom, and a kitchen. I have the room with the only window in the house
We moved here when I was only ten. My father, Michael Nelson, divorced mom and took most of her money. Then the stupid drunk lost all of it and made mom pay him again. When mom couldn’t stand dad demanding money from her anymore, she moved to Britain, taking me with her, where she slowly deteriorated into a former shell of herself. I got my Hogwarts letter when I was eleven. She had shut herself in her room at this point, only coming out to tend the bar. She drove me to King’s Cross station and I had to ask for directions on how to get to the platform.
Eventually, mom got her wand snapped, so she turned to me. Even though it was totally illegal, she made me refill all her drinks and supplies for the bar, and turned me into the bartender so she could deal out cards and such, so our pub turned into a casino.
And as for being a loyal, courageous Gryffindor, well…I was a Gryffindor, but I had no idea why. I guess I was loyal to my mother, but I had completely cut off all contact with my father. And I was nowhere near brave.
And good-looking? Hah. Hah. Hah. As if. I have long dark hair that tumbled down my back in wild, loose curls that I can not control, no matter how hard I try. I have pale skin, and forest green eyes. My eyes were the only feature I really liked about myself. They were big and framed by thick lashes. I was short and willowy, not a great combination. I wish I was taller.
I try not to dwell on that stuff, but it’s kind of hard to ignore it when you’re stuck at the pub seven hours a day, summer, Christmas, and Easter break. But, when I get out of Hogwarts, I’ll become a writer. It’s my dream. Then I’ll come back and help mom out, and I’ll be so freaking famous that I’ll order dad to be executed for all he did to her.
Not really. But I hate him.
“Pippa!” I yelled over the hubbub of the station. My mother hadn’t even bothered to drive me this year, just told me to Apparate. Even though it was totally illegal. But there’s so much magic at both Godric’s Hallow and King’s Cross that the Ministry can’t possibly hope to track it all.
My best friend, Penelope Anderson, turned toward my voice. “Alyssa!” She screamed, running over to me and jumping on me.
I stumbled, but caught her and set her down carefully. “Jeez, lose
some weight, girl!” I wheezed. Pippa laughed breezily.
Pippa has honey blonde hair and sparkling aqua eyes. She’s my favorite person in the world. Including my mother.
“How’ve you been? Oh my god, you’ve grown!” She said, taking me by the shoulders and examining me. I laughed. “I don’t know about that, but you have.” I said. Pippa towered over me at a staggering 5’7.
Pippa rolled her eyes. “Come one, let’s get an empty compartment while everyone’s still saying goodbye to their loved ones.” Pippa rolled her eyes at this. Pippa came from a rather large family that was extremely religious, but fairly poor. Her parents had this screwed up idea that Merlin wanted them to have children, so they kept having them until he sent some signal to tell them to stop. Pippa has a daunting total of nine brothers and sisters, and her mother’s pregnant.
Pippa and her siblings were not like their parents at all. They were all rebellious and mischievous. They were like a new, larger version of the WWII’s generation of the Weasleys.
At Hogwarts, Pippa had six siblings, not including herself. Joshua Anderson, seventh year Gryffindor, Iris Anderson, fifth year Ravenclaw, Julia and Jack Anderson, fourth year Gryffindors, twins, Percy Anderson, second year Gryffindor, and Vivian Anderson, who had yet to be Sorted.
We wheeled our trunks to the train and after several bruises, crushed toes, and lots of curses, we had obtained a compartment. Our luggage was in the luggage rack, and Pippa and I were flopped down on the seats.
And then the apocalypse happened.
The world didn’t spontaneously split in two. The train didn’t catch fire. Voldemort didn't magically spring from the ground declaring that he was gay.
(but that would be pretty awesome)
No, Albus Potter, Rose Weasley, and the rest of their little gang opened the compartment door and stampeded in, completely ignoring Pippa and I.
It was literally like more than half the Weasleys, with some scattered Scamanders and Malfoys. The compartment was automatically expanding, as it did when there were too many people in a compartment.
I exchanged an outraged glance with Pippa. We had worked hard for this nice, empty compartment! I stood up and coughed loudly.
Nobody paid me any attention. “Excuse me,” I said. They didn’t look. “EXCUSE ME!” I shouted.
Silence. Ah, what bliss.
“I don’t remember inviting you into the compartment! What gives you the right to just storm in here and pollute the air with Extreme Ginger Syndrome! Honestly, I’ll probably have orange hair in a month.”
Oh. They’re turning quite red now. I wonder if it was wise to insult the children and cousins of the man who saved the world.
Someone stood up, a dark spot in the sea of orange. Albus Potter. Oh Merlin, kill me now.
“Why do you think you can challenge us?” He asked, smirking. “Wanna take me on, Nelson?”
Whoa. Stop. Right there. He knows my name? The Albus Potter knows my name? I exchanged an incredulous look with Pippa.
And then she saw someone she recognized and she stood up with me. “Josh! Josh, get out!”
Josh stood up and made his way to his sister. “Come on, sis, you’d let me stay here, wouldn’t you?”
Pippa argued with Josh, then the Gingers started arguing, then everyone was screaming, and my head felt like exploding.
“SHUT UP!” I screamed loudly.
Everybody fell silent, staring at me. “Here’s the deal,” I said slowly. “All of you Gingers—that means you too, Potters—get out. Now. Seriously. I have a wand, and I am not afraid to use it, I don’t care if your father saved the Wizarding World. Get out.”
They all looked fairly stunned. I felt a shadow of a smirk on my lips. And then James Potter stood, and I knew it was all over.
“Nelson, do you really want to challenge us?” He asked. “Do you really want to challenge me, your captain and superior?” My anger flared. “What makes you think that you’re superior to me?” I asked. “Well, let’s think,” James said, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression. “I’m a seventh year. I’m your Quidditch Captain. I’m James Sirius Potter, for crying out loud. What makes you think that I’m not your superior?”
I faltered, and he smirked. “Come on, gang. We know when we’re not wanted.” He said. And just like that, the Potters and Weasleys trooped out, leaving Pippa and I standing in an empty compartment again.
I glanced over at Pippa. Then she spoke the question that had been on both of our minds.
“What. Was. That?”
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