story18

Theo and the Beginning
By Maggam

         "Dad! The championship game starts in 10 minutes! Get down here NOW!" Theo was dressed almost entirely in black; her baseball uniform consisted of entirely that color, except for the writing and numbering, which was white. She was standing at the bottom of a flight of stairs, tapping her cleat-covered foot impatiently.
          "Just a second, hun, I'm getting the camera ready." Her dad had lost his ridiculous British accent and was replaced by a typical California accent, although sometimes when he got excited he let words slip.
         "Well hurry up!" She turned away impatiently and stalked to the kitchen, muttering about weird English people. Her dad was the only English person that she had ever known, and he was weird enough to leave a very distincet imprint on anyone. The first thing you noticed about her dad was the lightning scar on his forehead, he was always vague and mysterious about how he had gotten it, the other thing you noticed were his eyes. They were a bright green, a happy green, but they hinted sadness and regret. Theo's eyes were almost exactly the same color, but her dad's past had not effected their sparkle. That and her height were the only things that resembled her dad, her hair were pure white in color, something she had gotten from her mom.
           She reached for the keys on the counter and glanced sideways at the picture pasted to the fridge. Her dad was in it, her mom too, but there were people she didn't recognize in it also. One of them was a tall man, with flame red hair, and a face almost dipped in freckles. Another was a woman with frizzy brown hair and dull hazel eyes. They were all standing in black robes, Theo had thought that they were graduation robes but her dad said that they were not, and each one was holding a stick, a long lightly colored stick. It was the only picture with her mom in it, so Theo left it on the fridge when her friends came over, her mom was smiling and hugging her dad with her left arm while her right hand, with the stick, waved above them.
           Theo grabbed the keys and walked over to the fridge, bending over so she could see it better. Her dad was holding her mom with his right hand; his left was holding the stick.
           "I could have sworn you were holding it in your right hand yesterday," Theo frowned but kept looking at the picture. The tall red-headed man was laying his right hand on her dad's shoulder, smiling and winking at her, while the frizzy haired woman was holding a book in her left hand, stick in her right, and leaning against the stone wall behind them. Theo's eyes went back to her dad and she gasped.
          "Dad! Dad come here!" She backed away from the picture and dropped the keys.
         "What is it?" Her dad sounded alarmed while coming into the kitchen.
         "That picture just moved! You were holding your stick in your left hand and then when I looked back at you, you were moving it into your right!" Theo watched the picture closely, and could have sworn that her dad in the picture seemed a bit nervous while the frizzy haired woman seemed a bit more annoyed.
          "I told you it would never work!" The woman yelled out of the picture.
          "If you had just given me a few more seconds I could have thought of something, now I'm gonna have to tell her!" Theo whipped around and stared at her dad. Was the picture actually talking? Was her dad talking back?
          "Now honey, there is a little something I need to tell you...."
          "Does this have anything to do with your pet owl and that morning when the bathroom was glowing?" Theo hadn't removed her eyes from her dad, afraid that if she looked back at the picture they would still be moving. Her dad grinned and rubbed the back of his head.
          "Heh, heh, well yeah, you see I'm not really what you would call a normal--" the ringing of the phone cut him off.
         "You stay right there, I'll get it." Theo eyes her dad then walked over to the phone on the counter. "Hello?" A pause, then
         "Right, I'm heading out now." She put down the phone then turned to her dad.
         "You know what?" she asked.
         "What?" he looked at her expectedly.
         "One of us is crazy, and if it's you I'm not letting you drive. But I have a game right now, so I'm going to take my bike, stay here and keep talking to the picture." She slowly backed her way out of the kitchen then into the garage, jumped on her bike and sped down to the ball field.
         "Well, that went well enough." Ron said, patting Harry on the back in the picture.
         "She's gone, you can come out." Harry said gloomily. There was a pop, and then Ron and Hermione stood before him. In the picture Harry and the gang waved to them then left, leaving the picture empty.
          "There is still time left for you two to move back to England," Hermione commented, biting into an apple left in a bowl on the table, "she would have to start late, but she's a smart girl, she'd catch up easily."
          "One problem," Harry pulled out his wand that he kept in his shirt and summoned a chair to him, "my job here." He sat down heavily.
          "Don't worry about that," Ron said happily from behind him, "I'll take care of it."
           "And I can talk to Dumbledore and get everything ready." Hermione was getting excited.
           "And who, pray tell, will deliver the blow?" Harry reached across the table and grabbed an orange.
           "She is your daughter after all, she wouldn't take it as well if one of us were to do it." Hermione pointed out annoyingly.
           "I guess you're right, like always." Harry smiled weakly up at his long time friend.
           "Of course I am." She grinned then sat down next to him, studying her half-eaten apple then tapped it with her wand, turning it into a pear, then biting into it again.
           "And that is why she became a teacher," Ron commented, leaning against the counter.
           "Because I'm always right?"
           "Because you will never let anyone forget it." The kitchen filled with laughter, the air played around with it, bouncing it off the polished marble and white walls, making it sound like old times, sitting together in their common room, joking about the same exact thing. For a moment all three friends had gotten the problem at hand, forgotten the enemies they had made, forgotten the fate they had chosen.

Author's note: So, what do you think? I want, I need, I implore you to be a good critic and send me some honest (but gentle) email (gsadie@hotmail.com) telling me what you think about it and wheither I shoudl continue with it. Anyway, I left a lot of disturbing holes in this part, to the frustration of anyone who reads it and actually likes it. The next chapter will probably be a bit longer, including the Hogwarts train, my other characters, and some questions answered about this chapter, that is of course if you people out there want me to finish this series. I leave it in your capable hands my fellow Harry Potter addicts and I hope to hear from you soon!