Ok..I am so sorry for the inconvinence (spelling?)

I put up a second chapter and it was "private" and I wasnt able to change it so I reposted the story! thanks for all of you who have read this and if you dont mind you can re-read the chapter and vote again!!   : )


It was chilly for a late august day.  I had to pull my leather jacket tighter around me, so I wouldn’t get cold, though I’m not as sensitive to the temperature as I used to be. The wind blew my now, long wavy brown hair into my face as I stared at the house I grew up in. It is a tall two-story, has quite a few bedrooms upstairs, most of them unused, and a grand staircase.  I haven’t seen this place in almost two years

I could feel tears well up in my eyes. They were usually a deep azure blue, but at points when I get extremely angry or frustrated you’ll be able to see a faint red tinge around my pupil. I wiped at them furiously, I hated crying.

I took a deep breath, trying to push all the painful memories out of my head. It wasn’t working, they just kept flowing through.

The time my brother and I were fighting…we ended up pushing each other down the stairs…I had a broken leg…

The first time I used accidental magic…when I was five…I set my brother’s hair on fire…

 Not all of the memories were bad though.

Our first week at Hogwarts…my brother and I were so excited…we made three new best friends…

The time my best friends and I played Quiddich…and it ended up as a game of flying-tag…around the house…

The next memory almost made me break down.

My mom coming to the orphanage to adopt me…bring me home…meeting my brother and dad for the first time…becoming a part of a family…

I took another deep breath, by this time I was at the front door. I kept wondering if I made the choice. To come back or not. I was thinking of all the things I left behind, and the people, and the places.

‘Yes, of course I have to do this’ I thought

‘No you don’t’ a voice said back

‘Yes, I do, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t’

‘Come on, there’s still time to leave, your mom doesn’t know you’re here yet’ I realized I was arguing with myself.

“Yes” I said aloud as I opened the front door. I had kept the house key with me all this time, never knowing if I would need it.

I stepped inside the brightly lit room; it didn’t seem as if anyone one was home. I dropped my bag on the couch and walked a little farther into the room.

‘This is it’ I thought.

“Mom?,” I called, hoping she would answer, “Mom, are you here?”

I heard a sound come from the kitchen, like glass breaking as if it were dropped. The kitchen door swung open and my mom stood there in a flowery summer dress with an apron over it. She was shocked to say the least. I don’t think she had thought she would ever see me again. Her eyes searched all over my face, wondering if I was actually here, or if it was her imagination.

“Mom?” I asked hesitantly.

She just stood there stunned, as unmoving as a statue. I thought she had frozen and was going to speak again when she blinked a few times and breathed a single word, my name.


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