Chapter One

Rising from a slumber of deep sleep, I self-consciously went through the motions to ensure that I resisted the call to return back to the arms of Morpheus. It was not moments later that I heard the sounds of a banshee-like shrill.

"Anastasia, Anastasia! Are you awake yet, you lazy girl? You need to come down immediately to make breakfast."

"Yes, auntie, I'm awake. I promise I'll be down in a minute," came my rather swift reply. Though I'm sure even if I was still blissfully asleep it wouldn't have been for much longer, I spitefully thought.

Bringing myself to leave the eternal comforts that the small, skinny bed provided was excruciatingly painful. Yet I knew that I could not keep Aunt Petunia waiting for much longer. 

Absentmindedly, I grabbed the wooden hairbrush from my bedside table to run it down my long curly locks. Despite my Aunt's constant attempts to style it, it still persisted to remain exactly as it were. It was quite humorous in a way, almost as if it were- magic. 

Chuckling the amusing thought out of mind, I strolled past the ornate mirror placed in the middle of the hallway. 

Automatically, I glanced at the image of the gangly girl with pitch black hair. The only redeemable feature she possessed were her eyes. 

A shocking colour that immediately made anyone that meets her gaze feel as if their very soul was being judged before them. 

It was truly unnerving. 

Eyes of glittering emerald sparked with hidden intelligence, humour, mischief and with just a hint of curiosity only found amongst young children. for that is what she was: a young child of only 10 soon to reach 11.

"Anastasia… where are you girl? I'm not going to wait forever you know."

Tumbling down the soft carpeted stairs, I was moments away from banging into a human shaped pig with clothes - I mean my delightful cousin who I just absolutely adore.

"Whjaaatt … uoou …. wauughhinn aaaatt?"

Sad to say that this was the hope for humankind- the so called 'future generation'. Haa!

"Oh nothing much Dudders, I gotta go make breakfast now," I replied while sidestepping my cousin to get past him which was a task in itself.

Casually strolling into the kitchen, I looked left then right as if I were just about to walk across the streets not a kitchen, though no less dangerous. 

Lo and behold, Petunia Charlotte Dursley, my Aunt. Standing akimbo with her back towards entrance, which is precisely where I was standing, a tall middle aged mother announced ...