Last Demons: The dreary Staircase

Chapter 1 ~ Cold October

A/N: If you're not here for quite obvious Danti/Antiseptiplier/Antisepticeye × Darkiplier or povs, I advise you to not read.

October thirty first, my birthday.

I lay in the brightening warm and purple hue of the early morning twilight, twisting in my sheets to avoid its light on my face. Finally, I opened my bleary eyes, blinking away the dry eyes feeling. My legs swing out of bed and right into my grey slippers, my matching pyjamas rustling as I moved. It felt like I was the only one awake, but the glow of the landing light creeping under my door said otherwise.

I left my room, trying to shield my eyes from the, oddly bright, old gas bulb, sighing in discontent. I stumbled down the rickety stairs, the last one creaking as I ambled off it. The hall was dimly lit by a few flickering red candles, highlighting the stretch to the living room, it's door a jar. I followed to the living room, Ma seated it Dad's usual arm chair, staring at the TV. We had an unusually high tech muggle TV my Dad had bought, it clashing with the aesthetic of the rest of the house. “Yer awake now, aren't ya? Excited for yer birthday, Vin?” My Ma asked, looking at me from the show he was watching. “No…” I mumbled, staring at the floor, “I'm just going to be overshadowed by Halloween and Voldemort's first death, again.” My newly eleven year old and small body ran up to my Ma in the armchair, climbing onto his knee and whimpering, staring at his odd and quite interesting eyes. “My sweet boy, you're more important than those festivities.” He mumbled into my hair as he kissed my head. I lay against his chest, eyes glassy and tearing up.

Dad came down an hour later, cursing and holding one of his wands between his fingers. Back then, his two wands thing was a mystery, but now I understand. He was holding something, a letter addressed to me in emerald green writing. “I think this is for you.” Dad said, holding it out to me. I snatched it, greedily, practically tearing it open, the wax seal lost on the carpeted floor, probably to never to be seen again. There were multiple pieces of paper inside, so I read one.

Dear Mr Mcullen (They had only written one of my last names, I have two)
I am writing to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Please read inclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.
Terms begin in September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st of July.

Yours sincerely
Minerva McGonagall
Current Headmistress

My black eyes lit up in excitement and awe at this peice of a large step in my life. My Dad took the other paper, it was a list of equipment and books I needed, including a wand. Little me was pumped, I always wanted a wand. I knew the details of my Ma's wand; Blackthorn with augury feather, 9 3/4 inches, and my Dad's two; Ebony with Rougarou hair, 11 1/3 inches and Rosewood with phoenix feather, 8 3/5 inches. I started to wonder what I was going to get.

The three of us got there by floo powder, my Dad trying to shake the Ash and dust from his hair. I'd been here before, the fireplace of the leaky couldren. It was pleasantly warm, despite the cold air that'd puncture your lungs outside. People pleasantly chatted around us as we shuffled out into the back, a few bins and a wall boxed us in. “Hold on!” the voice of my father rang out in the cold, the muffled sounds of the room we were just in behind us. He tapped at the wall with one of his wands, the rosewood one, and the wall turned into an archway to the bustling street of Diagon Alley. It was a beauty.