Uprooted: Myrtle's Story. Year One

"Myrtle honey, will you come down here?" Brooke Chester called up the staircase.

Myrtle was sitting on her bed in her room, a hand absent-mindedly stringing through her long hair that was styled in two thin pigtails. Hearing her mother's cry, she put down the well-thumbed volume about Frank Norris and got off the bed.

Frank Norris was Myrtle's hero. He was a travel writer. Went around the world and wrote stories about human life. That was what Myrtle wanted to be when she grew up. She already planned out what college she would attend; what sort of clubs she would need to join to get a better chance of acceptance; what she could call her first novel (The World Over, by Myrtle Chestnut).

Her parents did not like that idea for their daughter. They wanted something with more class, something that would get her out interacting with people instead of studying and scribbling away in her notebook.

10 year-old Myrtle didn't have many friends at school, spending most of her time either reading, or planning out her trip around the world, or writing. Her parents tried to encourage her to work to be an artist, actor, anything that would get her nose out of the books. It was hard for extroverts to have an introvert offspring.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Myrtle looked at her mother. She was a tall, stern woman with straight brown hair, like Myrtle's. Only Myrtle's was black, like her dad. Both Brooke and Myrtle had the same facial features: Large eyes and thin smiles. But where Brooke was a tall woman, Myrtle had inherited her father's shorter stature and weak eye sight, forcing her to wear thick glasses over her green eyes.

As soon as Myrtle saw the thick, odd textured envelope clutched in her mother's hand, Myrtle became worried. She knew nothing good could come from that.

"Oh Myrtle, you're a witch," Brooke cried out, sweeping her daughter into a large hug. Myrtle was used to hearing nonsense flowing freely from her mother's mouth, but this was a first. Myrtle was too shocked to even try to squirm out of the death grip.

Finally she released her, and Brooke looked down at her daughter with adoration.

"You get to go to Hogwarts School and learn to do magic. Oh, think of the friends you'll make, the chances you'll have to show off, and you'll learn to do magic," Brooke gushed, handing Myrtle the letter.

Reading it over, Myrtle groaned. Her mother didn't seem to hear her as she continued on her plans for Myrtle to grow up as a witch, getting a nice job as an enchanted painter, and living in a humble flat near London.

"But Mother," Myrtle said, trying to sound as formal as she could, "I don't want to go."

"Nonsense Myrtle. Of course you do. You want to go to that school and develop your gift. Do you know what I would give to have a gift like the letter says you have?" Brooke insisted, narrowing her eyes down at her. Myrtle pursed her lips. She knew she'd go nowhere arguing this with her mother. She would be forced to go to Hogwarts, even if she was hogtied.

Frank Norris was strange, but not this strange. Myrtle suspected he would not have gone to some Magic School. Myrtle only wanted to grow up and be normal. Was that a crime?

With a sigh, Myrtle looked back down at the letter.

At least it was a school. It couldn't be that bad could it?

~*~*~*~*~

"Platform Nine.... Platform Ten. Where is Platform Nine and Three-quarters?" Brooke Chestnut asked exasperated, staring from the ticket in her hand, to the signs up on the wall.

Myrtle stood next to her father, clutching her new orange kitten to her chest. The feline was the only thing good out of this entire ordeal Myrtle thought. At least now she'd have a friend to complain about her parents too.

"Maybe we could ask someone," Jericho Chester suggested, shrugging his small shoulders as he stood next to his daughter, leaning against the handle bar of her trolley.

As Brooke's green eyes swept the area, Jericho brushed some of his unruly black hair out of his eyes. Myrtle looked over at him and his soft brown eyes smiled at her. Myrtle's head turned back to look at her mother.

"Surely they would give us directions, or some sort of explanation to get onto the platform." Brooke cried out, her knuckles turning white from clutching the paper so tight.

"I guess not. We might as well go home," Myrtle told them brightly, pivoting on her heels and turning to go back they way they came.

"No you don't," Brooke protested, grabbing Myrtle's elbow. Automatically, Myrtle twisted her arm to aid her in breaking from the grasp. In the process, her kitten dropped from her grasp and promptly sprinted off into the crowd.

"Norris!" Myrtle cried out. Brooke dropped hr elbow in shock as the young girl rushed into the crowd after the swift feline.

The kitten was heading towards one of the brick walls. Now Myrtle had her cornered. Just as Myrtle reached down the grab the rushing kitten, it disappeared.

"Mum!" Myrtle cried out, standing up with a jolt.

"What is it?" Brooke asked, getting closer.

"Norris disappeared," Myrtle told her, waving a head towards the wall her beloved kitten had gone through.

"Into the wall?" Her father asked, joining the ladies.

"Apparently," her mother answered. Three sets of eyes studied the wall. Finally Myrtle reached out to see if maybe she could pass through the wall.

Nope, solid.

"I guess we found the platform at least," Jericho finally said, glancing up. The other two looked up and saw the platform signs for 10 and 9. The spot the kitten disappeared into was about ¾ across the wall.

"But how do we get through?" Myrtle asked. She would not have cared if they gave up there and then, but she couldn't abandon her cat like that.

"Maybe you need to run into the wall," Jericho finally suggested, taking off his wide brim glasses to clean them.

"What?" Myrtle asked, but Brooke seemed to take this idea to heart.

"Yeah, wasn't your cat running when it passed through the wall?" she explained. Myrtle narrowed her eyes at her.

"Yes, Norris wa running when she passed through the wall," Myrtle corrected. Brooke didn't' seem to notice this as she continued to study the wall.

"Why do I need to run into the wall?" Myrtle finally asked her father, who had replaced the glasses to his face.

"Well, I would think it would have something to do with trust. You are more likely to trust it to let you through if you are at a sort of run than if you just put your hand up to it," Jericho explained. Myrtle and Brooke both nodded to show they understood. As soon as they realized the other was also nodded, they promptly stopped.

"So, you run at the wall. If you pass through, we'll bring your trolley in after you," Brooke informed her. If Myrtle noted before stepping back.

The young girl took a deep breath before closing her eyes and charging at the wall. The bounce she expected did not come. In fact, she opened her eyes and looked down to find her body intact. Not to mention Norris sitting at her feet, grinning a cat grin up at her.

Myrtle bent down and picked up her cat, stepping out of the way as her father comes barging in behind her, nearly hitting her with the trolley.

"Watch out," he cried, swerving the other way at the last second.

"Sorry," Myrtle said, holding Norris with a strong grip. She didn't want to loose her again.

"Wow, isn't that lovely," Brooke said, coming through the barrier behind them. Myrtle turned to look at the train for the first time and let out a slight gasp.

So many people crowed around the large scarlet train. Swarming masses of students tried to get away from parents as last minute kisses were being issued.

"Well here you go," Brooke said taking the trolley from Jericho and passing it to Myrtle.

Myrtle nodded, pushed the trolley one handed towards the train, the other still held protectively around Norris.

Myrtle carefully placed Norris on top of the trunk before lifting it up. Myrtle hoped to get a compartment towards the front. She didn't think she'd be able to carry the heavy trunk very far.

Climbing up onto the train, she opened the first compartment she got to. At first Myrtle thought it was empty but then she saw a blond girl sitting near the window. Myrtle felt a pang of jealousy. She looked so pretty with her thick hair resting on her shoulders and her icy sea-green eyes looking back at her.

"Hello," Myrtle said, straining at the weight of the trunk.

"Hi," the girl said calmly, watching Myrtle with her sea green eyes.

"Mind if I sit here?" Myrtle asked, hoping the girl says yes.

"That's fine with me," she said, not moving to help Myrtle lug in the trunk. Resting the trunk edge on one of the seats, Myrtle moved Norris onto the other before lifting up the trunk.

Once it was secure, Myrtle moved to sit down but stood up when she saw Norris jump off the seat and scurry out of the compartment.

"I'll be right back," Myrtle said, leaving after the cat.

"Norris, Norris come back here," Myrtle called out. The orange kitten turned from the main corridor and into another compartment.

Myrtle stuck her head in. Norris was sitting in the lap of a young girl with dark brown hair.

"Why hello," the girl said, giving the kitten a scratch on the head. Norris purred, kneading the girl's lap.

"Um... excuse me," Myrtle said quietly, raising a hand uncertainly. The girl looked up and smiled. That reassured Myrtle, and she stepped into the compartment.

"Is this your cat?" the girl asked, still scratching Norris's head. Myrtle nodded.

"I always loved cats. What's her name?" the girl asked, carefully picking up the kitten and handing it to Myrtle.

"Norris," Myrtle answered, clutching Norris to her chest. The girl smiled.

"I'm Minnie," she introduced herself.

"Myrtle," Myrtle said, wishing she had a hand free to shake. But also a bit relived that she was holding Norris and wouldn't need to shake hands.

A moment of awkward silence passed between them.

"Excited about going to Hogwarts?" Minnie finally asked. Myrtle just kind of stared at her. She wasn't really excited. She'd prefer if she were not going.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I assumed you were a first year, like me," Minnie said, looking embarrassed.

"I am," Myrtle reassured. She didn't want to make someone feel bad. "I'm just... a Muggle-born." She strained to remember what the shopkeeper had said.

"Oh. But aren't you excited? I know if I just learnt I would be a witch, I would be," Minnie gushed. Myrtle made a slight face.

"Well, I'd much better prefer staying as a normal Muggle. But my parents insisted I attend," she admitted.

"Well, Hogwarts is going to be loads of fun. My mum already told me all about it. My best friend Maggie is coming too. She's off in another part of the train, but she should come back soon." Myrtle frowned a bit, moving a hand to push her glasses up her nose so Minnie wouldn't notice as much.

Myrtle could already see what would happen. Maggie would return and she and Minnie would start giggling over some private joke. And once again Myrtle would be on the outside.

It had happened enough when she was at school and started to make a friend. Who says the Wizarding community would be any different?

"What is Hogwarts like?" Myrtle asked, figuring she'd better get the most out of this chat before Maggie came back.

"Well, there are four houses. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Watch out for the Slytherins. They don't like Muggle-born very much. The Hufflepuff are nice, if a bit slow. I hope I'm in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Maggie says she doesn't think it would be that bad to be in Hufflepuff. She says you would get away with anything," Minnie told her. Myrtle nodded politely.

Before she could request any more information, a voice called from outside the door.

"Minnie, where are you hiding?" A short, light brown and curly haired girl stepped up to the door.

"Minerva Fawcette, did you really think you could escape from me that easily?" the girl asked, putting a hand on her hip and giving Minnie a stern look. Minnie giggled.

It was starting already.

"Margaret Stebbins. Do you really think that I would try to hid from you?" Minnie asked, innocently.

"Yes," Maggie said, grinning. She hopped over and sat down next to Minnie.

While the two giggled, Myrtle picked up Norris and headed back to the other compartment.

"Hello. I'm back," Myrtle said, sitting down. The girl looked up from the book she had begun reading.

"Welcome back," she said, placing a delicate finger between the pages of the books and closing it around it.

"What book are you reading?" Myrtle asked.

"Hogwarts: A History. Not that there is much in there that I don't already know. I've been signed up to go since my parents got married. Pureblooded family. Mum was a Slytherin. Dad was a Ravenclaw. Expect I'll be in Slytherin. My brother is. He's a prefect," the girl said. "How about you? Know what house to expect to be in?"

Myrtle knew better than to admit that she was a Muggle-born. She'd have to do some quick thinking.

"Oh, I don't know. Almost any if you look at my blood. Family is all over. Pureblood, of course," Myrtle said trying to stay as vague as she could and not mentioning that she was a Pure Blooded Muggle. The girl nodded.

"What's your name? You don't look familiar." The girl looked at her, studying her face as if trying to place it.

"Myrtle Chestnut. My father's father was a Muggle. We don't talk about him much," Myrtle admitted. Her father's father WAS a Muggle. And they didn't talk about him much. Not that those two facts had anything to do with each other.

"I'm Olive Hornby," Olive said, accepting Myrtle. "Maybe you'll get into Slytherin. I wouldn't complain."

Myrtle knew she had been accepted and beamed to herself, turning her face down to keep Olive from noticing. Pushing her glasses up to her face, she continued to pet Norris.

"Do you have a pet?" Myrtle finally asked, after Olive had returned to her book.

"Hmm?" Olive said, looking up. Myrtle was worried that Olive might be getting annoyed at her, but Olive didn't show it.

"I don't like cats very much. I have an Eagle Owl. Obert," Olive said, looking down her nose at Norris, who only purred as Myrtle continued to scratch her back. "But, at least cats are more noble than dogs."

Myrtle smiled. Olive's lips turned up a bit at the ends before she returned to reading her books.

Myrtle had a real friend.

Neither said anything for a few hours until a young woman knocked on the door.

"Anything off the trolley?" the woman asked with a smile. Myrtle just stared at the cart, her mouth watering. Olive grinned and went over. She bought a seat full of sweets. Literally. The seat next to Olive was covered with chocolate frogs, every flavor beans, peppermint mice, and licorice wands.

"Help yourself," Olive said, gesturing to the load. Myrtle stared at her, wondering if she was just teasing.

"Really?" Olive nodded and Myrtle picked up a chocolate frog.

"What are these?" Myrtle asked, carefully opening the package.

"You're a pure blood and you've never had a chocolate frog?" Olive asked in disbelief. Myrtle froze. Did she just blow her cover?

"Er... My parents tried to raise me like a Muggle," she finally decided to say. That was close enough to being truth. Olive rolled her eyes.

"Parents," she muttered. "They aren't real frogs. Not that they taste all that great. I usually sell the chocolate part and just keep the cards," Olive admitted, her voice low as if it was a sin for a girl to collect Famous Wizarding Cards.

Myrtle grinned and looked down at her card. Glover Hipworth, an old man with a large red nose stared back up at her.

"How do you get on one?" Myrtle asked, turning the card over and reading about the Pepper up Potion.

"Either you do something that's really good for the wizarding community, or you do something really stupid," Olive said. Myrtle's eyes flicked up and stared at her. Olive grinned.

"Sure, there are normal wizards. Creating the Pepper up Potion, the self-stirring cauldron, but then there are some that have no point what so ever. Like one card. A guy blew up half of a town when making magical birthday cakes," Olive said, rolling her eyes.

Myrtle stared at her again, an amused grin.

"There is also Uric the Oddball. He wore a Jellyfish as a hat. His real name is Uric Beaufolle. He went to Hogwarts. But was sorted into Hufflepuff," Olive gushed.

"Wow, it says all that one the card?" Myrtle asked, looking up from the card. Olive blushed.

"No, actually I read that in a book about him. I really wish I brought it, but I didn't want to loose it so I left it at home. Maybe I can lend it to you some day," Olive told her. Myrtle was flattered.

"So what else is there?" Myrtle asked, looking disdainfully at the mess of chocolate that had once been a frog.

"I'm not sure what this is," Olive said, picking up a scarlet bag. "Berti Bott's Every Flavor Beans," she read off the front.

"They look like Jelly Beans," Myrtle said, pulling one out of the bag. She put one in her mouth and grinned. "Apple."

Olive took one out and tasted it. "Cinnamon."

Myrtle took another, ready for another delicious taste and put it in her mouth.

"Ew!" she said, spitting out the bean into her hand. "It tastes like dirt." Olive stared at the spit-covered bean in Myrtle's hand.

"Maybe it went bad," Olive suggested. Myrtle made a face and Olive took another bean out.

"Mmmm, oatmeal. This one isn't bad," she said. Wiping her mouth, Olive tucked the wet bean in her skirt's pocket to be thrown away later. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out another.

"Pickle," Myrtle said. Olive grinned.

"See. They aren't all bad," she told her, putting another into her mouth before spitting it back into her hand.

"Ew! This one tastes like ear wax," she said.

Myrtle picked up the bag and read the tag.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean." She squinted to read the smaller text bellow that. "Every Flavor, and we mean it." She looked at Olive, who looked back at her, and the two broke out in giggles.