I entered my room and threw my bag on the floor, along with my mess mountain. Breathing in the sweet, perfume smell of home, I climbed into my soft bed, ready for a night of rest. A long, tiring day of school and stress from projects, tests, and quizzes lifted from my shoulders. I yawned happily and pulled my purple blankets over my head.
Harry Potter, my all time fantasy hero, filled my dreams. Flying cars, running, and odd contraptions swirled around in my mind as I began to wake up.
I threw off the scratchy yellow and red Gryffindor quilt and glanced around the room, a terrible feeling brewing in my stomach. The room was neat and orderly, not a sock out of place. It smelled like my grandma's house, like dirt and forest. I was not in my room!
My heart pounding a million times a minute, I froze. I was scared to move a muscle and tried to remember. Was I kidnapped? Where am I? I took a deep breath and wiped my sweaty hands on my leggings. Whoops, I forgot to change last night. I stood, causing the bed to sigh in relief and took in my surroundings. I looked at the picture on the wall and blew the dust off. It was an aging man with a mix of red, gray, and white hair.
"Thanks," the picture said.
I jumped back and screamed.
"Oh, do stop," the man complained, covering his ears. "I may be a picture, but I have feelings, too."
"I-I," I stuttered. "Where am I? Who are you?" I asked.
"You are at the burrow, and I am the Weasley grandfather, Arthur Weasley the first. I named my son after myself," he chuckled.
I stared, openmouthed. The Weasley family is in a book! Am I in another universe?
