For all the folks at home that are interested in hearing about my life, the beginning of it anyway. Where history was made and all that jazz, I suppose like any story –unless authored by JD Salinger I might as well introduce myself. My name is Monique Nightingale and most would say I wasn't an ordinary girl, at the ripe age of 11 I found out I was a witch. This wasn't a wizard of odd type witch where my skin was green and there was a wart on the end of my nose –or my chin (Thank you universe for making me feel like a bigger joke.) So forget now all those stereotypes you have painted in your mind and picture this.
It was Tuesday and a damn cold one considering Spring, but what were you expecting when you lived in London, England. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom, mother downstairs baking when something hit hard against my window. I dropped the pencil that was dangling somewhere between my mouth and the paper where I was sketching. My eyes darting over to my window, assuming it was a bird I walked over read to use my years of playing doctor with Lily to work. Reaching the window and opening the hinge I found an owl of all things looking up at me wide eyes. Having to blink and hold it for a few moments before opening my eyes again; however they did not deceive me. At 1:23pm on a Tuesday there was an owl at my window. And by at my window I mean now inside of my room.
Unsure of what to do I stood there by the window, this brown spotted owl flying in through the gap and taking residence on my dolphin printed doona. My eyes awkwardly darting between the window and the owl a few times before I noticed there was now a letter on my bed. The owl seeming to have noticed flew back outside leaving me staring in amazement over the whole situation. Staring into the centre of my mattress where the letter was situated I tentatively made my way over to where it was. Poking it a few times (assessing the situation having to know if it was about to explode or not.) I picked up the letter and read, the letter shockingly enough was addressed to me, freaky part being it was down to the last detail of where my room was; top left of the stairs across the bathroom. Flipping it over there was no return address but a wax seal with four animals distinctly pressed into it circling the letter H. Carefully I pealed the wax seal off and placed it on my bed, around the same time I was pretty sure my jaw had it the floor.
Miss Monique Nightingale
I would like to formally invite you to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for your extraordinary behaviour one would have to associate with magic or madness and it is always the former. Please find attached a list of supplies you will need to bring for the start of the school year.
Yours Dumbledore
I must have missed my mother yelling up the stairs that the cake or biscuits or whatever she was making were ready because suddenly she was before me taking the letter out of my hands and reading it over and over and over and over. I had it for five minutes and didn't touch it for 4 minutes and 15 seconds. "This can't be real, someone must be playing a joke. That boy you and Lily are always hanging around of course that makes sense." My mother mustered out fiddling with strands of similar red hair to mine.
"I'll be back," I said bolting out of my room and down the stairs with the letter before my mother could even stop me. In what was a quite fast run and some form of magic I didn't trip...maybe magic wasn't the right word. I was across the street and knocking loudly on the Evans' door. Lily Evans my best friend since she saved me from a life time of embarrassment when I slipped into the mud when I was 5 at school, she had a change of uniform like the nerd she was, well is. But once you save me from slipping in mud, you're bonded for life. I walked up the stone steps to the egg shell coloured door and knocked, barely a second past when the door opened with the sound of the wind and I was caught up in her emerald green eyes. I guess in my blue ones something said I was worried, sick or scared; maybe all three. And she grabbed me by the hand and took me to her garden, opening her palms I watched as she grew a flower out of thin air.
"So the letter wasn't a joke?" I said with a awkward laugh.
"You got a letter to!" Lily practically screeched in her excitement. "Ah we're going to Hogwarts and we're witches. Oh this is so exciting, Min why aren't you jumping about the place?"
"Huh," I said removing my gaze from the withering flower that had been cast to the floor in all the haze of a shiny new adventure. With Magic. "I mean woooo."
A cup of tea and cake later I decided it was time to return to my normal life, if my life could ever be normal again. I was 11 and felt like I was having a midlife crisis and I didn't even really know what that was. I had learnt from TV that most people in this situation are males and buy sports cars. But I was living on 5 pounds allowance a fortnight and couldn't reach the floor when I sat in the passenger seat. I was a bit short, but mother always said I would blossom one day. Who knew that meant turning into a witch.
Opening the blue door and stepping into the front room there was an elderly man sitting on the weather red couch with my mother. I saw her tense up as I walked back into the room, (maybe mentioning I went to Lily's and not run away would have been a good idea.) The man had a ling silver beard and a warm smile with blue eyes to match when he met mine. He gave off such a nice vibe, like trust was oozing out from him. Okay that sounds a bit gross come to think of it. I sat down on the table in front of my mother and the bearded man who promptly informed me his name was Albus Dumbledore, he went on a spiel about magic and Hogwarts which he was the headmaster of. He taught me the difference between being a muggle and magical. My mother having no magical gifts was a muggle, me apparently being a witch –which hadn't really sunk in yet) was a muggle born. My father had been absent since I was 5 years old and after questioning once I never pressed again. I was fascinated by the whole subject, but time came for him to leave making me wonder if he needed to do a trip over to Lily's though promised to be back in September when the school year formally begins and help me shop for school supplies. Apparently pencils and notebooks weren't going to cut it for a school built on witchcraft...and wizardry.
True to his word and proof I didn't have a far to vivid dream for some at just at age 11, Dumbledore was back on my doorstep and taking me to Diagon Alley. Stepping through a bar and heading to the backroom before knocking on a few bricks which separated and as embarrassing as it was my jaw hit the floor, my eyes nearly jumping out of my head. Quickly putting myself back together, not wanting to act like a complete dork when I made my first entrance to the magical world. Suddenly I was surrounded by large crowds, a few people flying over head on brooms I felt myself duck even though I was far away from where they were flying and they would have a larger chance of hitting my escort than myself. Collecting a few basic supplies (books, parchment, quills, cauldron, potion ingredients you know the usual) Dumbledore told me he had business to attend to and left me with only two more things to obtain a pet of my choosing out of the list of an owl, cat or toad. And there was no chance I was getting a toad, instead favouring to take a raggish looking black kitten and going over the road to get what I was most excited for a wand.
I was standing just inside the doorway of Olivanders making wands since 382BC, so it seemed to have a long running family line considering the man behind the counter looked 50 at best. No one lived that long did they?
There was a boy with shaggy black hair in front of me, he was just taller than me so I was thinking we were similar with age. Thinking to myself maybe he was just as in a state of shock and awe with the whole magic element now in his life.
"There you are Mr. Black," the man said handing the boy a black box. "Time to break the family line." He added with a wink and a warm smile, before he finally turned his gaze and eyes landing on me. Getting a closer look at him his hair was stark white and a few wrinkles were working their way where his smile was and above his white eyebrows. The man defiantly couldn't move as quickly as he still did and be from BC. I had wonder if religion was correct considering I was about to buy a wand where I would perform magic; at a school for witches and wizards; where other magical people would be; and learn about all things magical. Or maybe they had things right in Salem. Should I be offended and/or scared by that now? My head was starting to hurt.
In all the mind rambling i hadn't noticed the boy was now staring at me hand stretched out and all. He was kind of cute honestly, "Sirius Black," he said. "Hate to be repetitive but you are?"
"Monique Nightingale," I said taking his hand a slight heat coming from the back of my neck and surely tinging my cheeks a light pink.
"Hogwarts?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied not bothering to fight the smile that was appearing on my face. "Are you?"
"First year," he said with a proud grin and I had to resist the urge to laugh at his stance. It was like the cover of a comic book or an action figure. "Guess I'll see you there, enjoy the process of letting a piece of wood choose you." He said leaving a few coins on the counter and giving me a wave, leaving the shop like he had been here a million times. For all I knew maybe he had.
The man I assumed was at least one of many generations of Olivander's returned my attention. He was now holding a tape measure which quickly made it's way around every inch of my body. I stood there like there was a strong pole stuck from my toes to my top of my head unsure of how to go about the measuring.
"It's okay," he reassured me taking my gaze away from the wooden walls and to kind eyes. "New aren't you?"
I nodded a small smile finding its way to my lips. "It's okay to be nervous, not everyone was brought up with the knowledge." Not bothering to hide the my ever growing grin, he finished with "Time to get you a wand."
And boy did i try quite the selection, all different types of wood and cores I would have never even thought of. During this time I managed to knock down three separate shelves of wands, shatter a glass and set fire to the flowers in the cornor of the store. "Sorry," I apologised for what felt the hundredth time.
"You're quite difficult aren't you?" He said phrased in a way that wasn't quite a question –was the word rhetorical? I'll have to ask Lily later – I was started to get nervous that maybe the world had made a mistake and I wasn't a witch, and then I would have to be killed or tortured to make sure I wouldn't tell anyone about the magical world. Or maybe I had early onset mental health issues. "No need to worry, I think I may have just the one." One of twenty-seven, would 28 would be my charm?
Taking the box from his hand and hesitantly taking the wand from its place in the box. Unexpectedly I felt a warmth rush from head to my toes and a silver light was starting to flood around me.
"Well twenty-eight that is a new record," he joked. God I hoped he was joking.
Inspecting the wands closer, it had a light grey type of wood I wouldn't be able to place though he soon told me it was whit eoak which turned out not to hard to remember. It's core was a strand of Valkyrie hair and flexible and 12 and 1/5 inches. He soon plucked his own wand out of a shelf behind the counter and returned the store to normal. "Wow," I said whilst handing him the correct amount of money. The not so fun thing about magic, I had to learn a whole new market price and coin values when I could barely tell the difference between pounds and pennies (despite the obvious shape that was.) Having to learn knut, sickles and galleons was causing me a headache. "You are going to be extraordinary." He said to me just before I left the store, waving a goodbye and telling him thanks and apologizing once more I went to the place Dumbledore had told me to meet him. It was by this large fountain where three beautiful woman were made of marble water streaming from their hands. My meeting with the professor was quick, he handed me a ticket and took my back to my home. But it was only temporary.
So what is the outcome when you have lost your best friend and are late for the train to a magical school. A) attempt to find her or B) sit with a bunch of boys that look nice?
"Platform nine and three what?" My mum asked Dumbledore. See I wasn't the most confident person, so while we were walking around the station, people kept staring at me and all I could feel was the heat on my face and a tingling sensation from my hair. "Nine and three quarters," he replied easily.
"There isn't a nine and three quarters," mum stated firmly. "I come here every day three times a week for work and I have never seen that platform. What are you expecting her to do run at a wall between 1 and 2?" she huffed out.
"Well yes," he replied simply as if it was the most normal thing in the world. I wasn't even sure what to believe anymore though, with magic anything was possible. "The wall is similar to a portkey which transport you from one place to another. In this case to a hidden station."
On that note I had no idea which face I found more amusing, the dumbstruck look on a 32 year old woman's face or the smug look on who knows how old professor. "You want her to what!" my mother said keeping her voice both down to a whisper yet full of anger. I felt myself twitch at how she replied, like a memory I've blocked out and there it was again.
"Interested?" Dumbledore asked me, choosing to ignore my mother and focus solely back on the young witch. It was then I chose my mother's face, hers was priceless. I'm pretty sure I could die right now with the satisfaction I have caused her that much distress in a matter of seconds and I'm sure nothing could beat that. Then again what did I know I was eleven!
A few more funny looks carried my way, though I suppose what was I expecting as we stopped in front of a wall. You know I was hoping he was joking about that bit. We were between platform nine and ten, the silver beared man stopping in front of it his hand suddenly disappearing half through the wall. "Good we're not late," he said happily. I myself stood there completely amazed and perplexed by the science of it all. Not science MAGIC.
"As you are a muggle Miss. Nightingale you'll have t say your goodbyes now," he said while my mother dove in and gave me the tightest hug ever. "You don't have to go, we can still get you into Dumbarton's Day College," she whispered. I shook my head immediately, I wasn't going to give this opportunity up for the world...or especially for a school with the word dumb in its title.
"Write to me," she said looking me dead in the eyes. I felt a wave of a feeling I could only chalk up to fear flood through me. Her hands were dug deep into my arms and her eyes quite cold. "Don't get in to much trouble," she laughed her smile softening and grip loosening.
"Does that mean I can get into a little trouble," I joked as she pulled me back into another hug.
"Oh you know what I mean."
"Yeah I do," I said with a smile. "Bye mum."
"Ready," he asked me pointing to the wall.
"So I just go up to it and walk through?" I asked bitting down on my lower lip.
"Run if you're scared," he said before popping out of sight.
I closed my eyes tight and started to run, feet pounding hard against the pavement through my red converse. When suddenly CRASH, and somebody yelling out "OW," of course I had managed to already run into someone. Jesus leave me alone for a few seconds and I was already a clumsy mess. "Sorry," I said finally opening my eyes and apologetic smile on my face.
"All good Red," the boy laughed off rubbing his arm. "Probably will barely leave a bruise."
"Sirius?" I asked looking at the boy closer.
"Yep," Sirius smiled. "Glad you remembered me Red."
"Why are you calling me that?" I asked before putting on a bit of 11 year old sass. "Forget my name already?"
"No you're wearing a startling lot of red, I mean the hair, the shoes the shirt. And yeah you may be right about the name, but always good to have a nickname." He said with a wink.( cgi/set?id=173007290 )
Okay maybe I was, but it's nice to have a favourite colour especially when it went well with my skin. Which was far to pale for my own good, I burnt way to easily. And I came from Australia- granted I moved a to London when I was 5, but I still had a lot of time bathed in sunblock for years. The cold weather was something i found refreshing when we moved. Plus it is how I met Lily after all.
"It's Monique," I said correcting him, though I did actually like that fact I had a nickname, especially one that was more inventive than dork. Which was patronising as well.
"I think I'll stick with Red," he smiled. "So want to go find a carriage?"
"Yes," I said biting the inside of my mouth slightly so my smile wasn't like a crazed person, just a moderately happy one. Obviously I hadn't done the best job if his laugh was anything to go by.
Starting to push both of our trolleys and head onto the train, having to lug my suitcase – one for clothes and one for a serious amount of school supplies – glad my cat was small enough to fit into the pocket of my jacket.
"You mind if we sit here?" I heard Sirius ask, not having even realised we were on the train and bags taken away. Sure as hell told you whole I lost I became in my own little world.
"Go for it," the guy replied. He was by himself in the compartment big enough to fit at least 10 people. He had messy black hair and I wondered if he had started styling it early or he spent a lot of time in the wind. He fixed his square rimed glasses before stretching his hand out, "James Potter."
"Sirius Black," my new friend said taking his hand. "This is Red."
"Monique," I replied though truth be told I really didn't mind,
"I think red suits you," James replied. Shaking my head I took a seat next down to James while Sirius sat in front of me. "So, know what house you'll go in? Personally I think Slytherin would suck, I might transfer or go home if that happens." James asked in a joking tone.
"My whole family is in Slytherin," Sirius stated.
"Reall, here I was thinking you were alright," he laughed off soon joined in by Sirius. I however just sat there, I had no idea what they were talking about realising I was far over my head.
"What about you Red?" James asked once their laughter had died down.
"I don't really know what they are," I mumbled awkwardly.
"Muggle born?" James asked I nodded. "That's okay," he smiled before continuing. "There is Hufflepuff, they're kind of a snore but good if you're friendly and good at finding things. Ravenclaw mostly filled with the brainiest students or ones with the most arrogance. Slytherin mostly populated with gits," he said with a laugh. "Though Sirius here isn't so bad, sure there is a few nice people in there."
"Not in my family," Sirius said, both seriously (I had to laugh a little at that) and in a joking manner.
"And finally Gryffindor, and I think that's the one for me," he finished not giving me any indication why so of course I had to ask.
"Well it suits me," he said with a smile. "Plus it was my both of my parents house."
"So there's like a genetic code along with sorting you out?" I asked, science brain coming into the mix. So it was my favourite subject at school, I was a bit of a dork so what?
"No," Sirius answered before James could. "It all depends on the mind."
And with that the conversation died, though I hadn't realised we had taken half the journey with that small conversation. "I think it's time to change," Sirius mentioned grabbing his small bag down from the railings above our heads and taking out the black robes. I did the same, but moved out of the carriage and finding a bathroom instead of changing in the compartment with them. Because hello awkward.
When I came back they had both changed and were now surrounded by piles of confectionary. "Wow," was all I said dragging their attention away from the food and onto me.
"Well don't you look like a fine little witch," Sirius smiled before offering me a jelly bean.
"What flavour is this?" I asked looking at the yellow spotted blue bean.
"You tell us," James said smiling mischievously at Sirius. Deciding to shrug this off I ate it, before quickly spitting it back onto the ground much to the boys' delight and laughter fit.
"Gross," I finally managed and James handed me a drink to which I just eyed him.
"I solemnly swear this is just orange juice," he said hand that wasn't holding out the "juice" over his heart. "Promise." He said again.
"If this isn't I will never trust you again James Potter," I stated taking the drink to rid my mouth of a combination of soap and old eggs. The juice however was really refreshing, tasted bloody heavenly actually. I really hoped it was just orange in there. "Thank you."