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Harry Potter Fan Fiction

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I am sorry for the lengthy posts recently! However it just happens when one talks about their obsession I suppose. For my tribute to the Harry Potter series I decided to write up an introduction to a story that could be a spin off of the Harry Potter series. Really this story is about Clara, the Great-Grand daughter of Harry Potter himself. However the introduction doesn’t mention this, because it is in fact an introduction. ;) Now before you critique me for composition and English-major type things, just be warned I am not an English major! I just like to write stories. Sometimes I think that people over analyze stories and in fact forget that they were originally meant to be a story. So I hope that if you read this, you can enjoy it as a story. Enjoy! :D

Miss Wells was a very well to do neighbor. She knew everything about anyone and possibly more than what they knew themselves. Every afternoon at precisely 3 PM she would take a leisurely stroll through Privet Drive to watch the families which lived there. Miss Wells lived for any information which might have passed her ears. Normally there was not much which changed on Privet Drive. However today was different. There was a new family which had just moved into Number 4 Privet Drive. The Doyles. They were an odd lot she had heard, kept to themselves. They also had a little girl with a mess of dark hair and bright green eyes. Miss Potts commented that she looked like one of those tree sprites you hear about in fairy tales.

However, Miss Wells knew that it was her duty to properly introduce herself to these new people. No matter how strange their appearance. So she had baked a cake early this morning and was determined to make their acquaintance. She walked steadily up to the house, noticing with pleasure that the lawn was very well manicured. She rang the doorbell and had only to wait for a passing minute before Mr. Doyle opened the door with a surprised look on his face.

“Well hello, my name is Mr. Doyle. As you can see we are still unpacking, what can I do for you?”

“Well hello Mr. Doyle, my name is Miss Wells. It would appear that we are to be neighbors, for you see I live over in house Number 9. I have brought this cake for you and your family to enjoy. For I am sure that unpacking can be quite exhausting.”

“It is good to meet you! Do come in and have a seat. Bri we have visitors!” Mr. Doyle called up the stairs.

Miss Wells was ushered in to a cozy living room still littered with unpacked boxes. There was a plush red couch which sat in front of a large window facing Privet Drive. Normally Miss Wells would frown upon such eccentricities; however this couch seemed to fit into the living room. She gingerly placed the cake onto the bamboo coffee table and walked 3 steps to the fireplace. There were 3 pictures on the mantel. One was an image of a young couple. Presumably Mr. Doyle and his wife. For the young male was a spitting image of the man who had greeted her at the front door. He had the same dark eyes and slicked back hair. His was indeed a handsome face; however it wasn’t a warm one. Which was the complete opposite of the young woman with him. She had such merry eyes, sparkling with some secret that Miss Wells knew nothing about. She also had a head of wild untamable red hair; she wasn’t what Miss Wells would consider to be a beauty. However here spirit more than made up for it. This woman had a passion which stood in such contrast to the man standing next to her.

The second picture was that of six boys, each looked to be a year apart from the other and they all resembled their father. This picture only made Miss Wells wonder who these 6 boys were, for as far as she knew the couple only had a young daughter. The mere thought of there being something she didn’t know flustered her. So after a few breaths she turned to the final picture, only to lose her breath again. It was a picture of a young girl running through a forest. She presumably had inherited her father’s raven black hair, however it was just as wild and untamed like that of her mother. She had the same merriness that her mother held, combined with the handsome face of her father. However, what was most peculiar about her were her eyes. They were such a deep green and they seemed to hold a whole different world in them. Miss Wells was just thinking about the time when she was a little girl running through the meadows early in the morning. When the sun rose it reflected the dew shining off of the grass, creating an almost fairytale world. This world was in the girl’s eyes.

“Ah, I see you found Clara. Unfortunately she is at school right now so you will not be able to meet her. My name is Briana! Would you like some coffee?”

Startled out of her thoughts Miss Wells turned to see the woman from the first picture. She looked to be such a kind hearted soul, and Miss Wells was thankful that she would be the new neighbor here.

“Oh, dearie, I just came by to say hi! Look at the time! I best be off before it gets too dark. It was so nice to make your acquaintance. Do come over to my place for tea and biscuits sometime, I live over in house Number 9. I would love to hear more about where you came from and meet little Clara!” Miss Wells gestured towards the picture of the little girl, for she truly did want to know more about this new family. She already had many things to share with Miss Potts.

“Why yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you so much for this cake, it looks positively delicious.” Briana said as Miss Wells stepped back outside.

“I give you the best wishes on your move in, and do stop by.” With that, Miss Wells was heading back down Privet Drive.

Yes, Miss Wells concluded, the Doyles were a perfectly normal family. She could ease Miss Potts’ worries about them being somehow related to “that wizard scandal” everyone has been talking about. Surely wizards would not be as kind as the dear Mrs. Doyle? As she walked back home she saw an owl fly overhead. Strange, she thought, she has never seen any owls here before. However she just shrugged her shoulders and kept walking. What she did not see was that the owl flew down into the chimney of the Doyle house as if that was in fact, it’s destination.

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