by Pandora Gotham
Screams rang out; terrible, high-pitched screams. The ash night flickered with red and green light and rained soot. Houses were on fire and were burning their inhabitants.
“Please!” a small voice sobbed out, curled in a ball in a small corner of their home’s attic. Black cloaks closed in around her, snickering, murmuring, taunting.
“Please what? There is nobody here to save you!” The cloaked man in the front spit out, laughing maniacally. “You’re going to die, little girl. And no one will hear your screams.”
A woman from behind them cackled and muttered, “Crucio.” A red light shot out of the woman’s wand and headed straight for the small girl, but as it got closer, time seemed to slow down and everything froze.
As the world around the small girl stopped, she looked around with big violet eyes. Everything was frozen: the fires burning, the billowing smoke, the jet of terrifying red light. Everything but her.
She stood up on shaky legs and seemed to wobble forward toward her attackers in black cloaks. Her eyes widened, and she caught herself before she fell onto them. She hunched over, her
“Please!” a small voice sobbed out, curled in a ball in a small corner of their home’s attic. Black cloaks closed in around her, snickering, murmuring, taunting.
“Please what? There is nobody here to save you!” The cloaked man in the front spit out, laughing maniacally. “You’re going to die, little girl. And no one will hear your screams.”
A woman from behind them cackled and muttered, “Crucio.” A red light shot out of the woman’s wand and headed straight for the small girl, but as it got closer, time seemed to slow down and everything froze.
As the world around the small girl stopped, she looked around with big violet eyes. Everything was frozen: the fires burning, the billowing smoke, the jet of terrifying red light. Everything but her.
She stood up on shaky legs and seemed to wobble forward toward her attackers in black cloaks. Her eyes widened, and she caught herself before she fell onto them. She hunched over, her
breaths coming out in pants; she needed to get away, far away, for she didn’t know how long this would last.
With that thought in mind, she ran as fast as she could, out of her home and down the street, passing the carnage of the attack. The girl looked down to the pendant around her neck and smiled. She had her mother’s necklace and nothing else mattered.
With that thought in mind, she ran as fast as she could, out of her home and down the street, passing the carnage of the attack. The girl looked down to the pendant around her neck and smiled. She had her mother’s necklace and nothing else mattered.
~OoO~
The girl had run far, very far, and she didn’t know exactly where she was. All she knew was that she was in the middle of Muggle London alone, and without any money. She looked around, trying to find something that looked familiar, but all she saw were strange faces and even stranger places. How was an eleven year old supposed to know where she was? She had only just gotten her Hogwarts letter.
A sob escaped from her chapped lips and she crept over to a small alley, curled up into a ball, her knees pulled up to her chest, and her skinny arms wrapped around them. Her small stature shook with her sobs, and tears ran down her dirtied face, leaving odd lines down it. She buried her head into the nook of her knees and cried.
She was so scared. The sun was rising, she was in London, her parent’s were most likely dead, and she had almost been killed. What more could happen to her?
Though she had only been running for a couple hours, the girl was very dirty and dusty, her clothes covered in soot, and the light faded from her once bright violet eyes. She heard footsteps approaching her form, and she curled up tighter, hoping they would go away. She was wrong.
The footsteps got closer, until they were in front of her, and she heard the sound of robes rustling as someone bent down. “Genevieve Logan?” She heard her name, in a gentle tone, she peeked her head up. Who would know her name?
Her eyes hardened as she looked up, only to see an old man in midnight blue robes and long white hair crouched in front of her. He had a long snowy beard and kind baby blue eyes behind half moon spectacles. Genevieve’s amethyst eyes, drank in the sight of the wise wizard, memorizing every detail she could.
The man, despite his age, sat down next to her on the hard ground, and smiled kindly at her. “My name is Professor Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts.” Genevieve let the words sink in before she flung herself at the aged man; she was safe.
A sob escaped from her chapped lips and she crept over to a small alley, curled up into a ball, her knees pulled up to her chest, and her skinny arms wrapped around them. Her small stature shook with her sobs, and tears ran down her dirtied face, leaving odd lines down it. She buried her head into the nook of her knees and cried.
She was so scared. The sun was rising, she was in London, her parent’s were most likely dead, and she had almost been killed. What more could happen to her?
Though she had only been running for a couple hours, the girl was very dirty and dusty, her clothes covered in soot, and the light faded from her once bright violet eyes. She heard footsteps approaching her form, and she curled up tighter, hoping they would go away. She was wrong.
The footsteps got closer, until they were in front of her, and she heard the sound of robes rustling as someone bent down. “Genevieve Logan?” She heard her name, in a gentle tone, she peeked her head up. Who would know her name?
Her eyes hardened as she looked up, only to see an old man in midnight blue robes and long white hair crouched in front of her. He had a long snowy beard and kind baby blue eyes behind half moon spectacles. Genevieve’s amethyst eyes, drank in the sight of the wise wizard, memorizing every detail she could.
The man, despite his age, sat down next to her on the hard ground, and smiled kindly at her. “My name is Professor Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts.” Genevieve let the words sink in before she flung herself at the aged man; she was safe.