Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or 150 things I'm not allowed to do at Hogwarts. Very clever people do.
I was staring at my cute little nose in the mirror, and I had been all day. I recently got it pierced for my thirteenth to magnify its beauty. It was absolutely flawless and cutely convex. Physically, it was one of the few things that set me apart from my mother. I was surprised she actually let me get it done, her not having any piercings of her own.
"Adhara, dear!" I rolled my eyes before fixating them once again on the silver stud, fawning over the way it made my eyes pop.
"There is someone down here who would very much like to meet you." I glanced at my bedroom door in shock, having no problems removing my eyes from my reflection this time. My mother never brought anyone home. Then again, she herself was never home.
I sighed and with caution, made my way down to the living room. There my mum sat, looking timid with erect posture. She looked tired as usual, but it bordered on miserable actually. Across from her sat an older man in my favorite rocking chair. I looked between the two and I could tell my mum had great respect for him. Maybe she worked for him, down at the Ministry. And if that was the case, I didn't like him already.
With hesitation, I sat next to my well poised mother, not having the option of sitting in my sacred chair. My mum crossed her slender fingers in her lap before speaking.
"Adhara, this here is Albus Dumbledore and he's come to talk to you about school." I bit my lip, trying to smile over my flashback of that hellhole I once attended.
Instead, I set my sights to this 'Albus' fellow and I must say, there was something completely endearing about him. He was definitely one of us, a wizard I mean. I guess he could be a classy hippie as well. His robes were long and billowy and he was wearing half moon glasses. Behind them, his eyes twinkled in content. My favorite part about this ancient stranger was that his beard was massive, yet neatly tied near the end with a golden tassel. His hair was long too, which was the basis for my hippie comment.
"Adhara, I have been informed of your expulsion from The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for brawling with another student in front of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mum cringe at that. I remember after it happened, she gave me the silent treatment for fighting in front of her boss, which is far worse than reprimanding. Believe me.
It honestly wasn't my fault. A French tart named Ameile called me a putain for hanging out with guys more than girls. I had to put her in her place, so what better way to do so, than violence?
I nodded at Dumbledore after my reverie, prompting him to continue.
"That leaves you to either transfer to Durmstrang…" I cut him off, speaking for the first time in this conversation.
"NO! First French, now Bulgarian? No way! I can't tolerate learning another language. I'm only thirteen. I am not the Mozart of tongue."
"Or you could make my school Hogwarts your new home." I perked up at the name and turned to my mum.
"Hey, mum! You went there! And this is your headmaster no doubt, soon to be our headmaster." I didn't take in her vacant expression before turning back to Dumbledore.
"Yes, I'll go to your school…wait…they do speak English, right?" He nodded 'yes' and I sighed in relief. "I'll start packing."
I slapped my hands on my knees and ran up to my room, eager for a clean slate.
Ok, this story is pretty much my masterpiece. I worked my ass off for this. I've never spent more time and more effort on a story than this one. It's my baby.
I wrote this to follow the exact plot of the Prisoner of Azkaban and plan on doing the same for the sequels which will follow every book after POA, in order of course.
It's pretty much the Prisoner of Azkaban through an OC's eyes. She's far from Mary Sue and very well developed. And she will gain a love interest down the line, so stick around for that.
I hope you like it.