A/N: Man, I haven't written an Authors Note in a long time. Well, here's one of the stories I've had hidden in a flash drive. I'm still unsure about uploading my fanfiction. I don't know if I'll be able to devote myself to it. I have several chapters written already, so if I get distracted or lose interest in the story, I'll still be able to give you guys something. I'll try my best to stick to it (I kinda like the story) but we'll see. Thanks for reading! -LB

Oh, and I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. Except for Sophie, her parents, and Mr. Dent. Okay, continue.

Panic Attack

Death. Proof that no matter how much you love someone, you can't stop the imminent from happening. You can't stop death in it's tracks or stop cancer from ravaging a body. You couldn't stop anything. You could only watch. Watch, wait, and weep.

I stood quietly as I watched my father's body lowered into the ground. I had no control over anything. No control, and everything was spinning out of it. I blinked, and everything was gone. My mother, my father, my life. Vanished. Poof. Vamoose. Gone.

A tear trailed down my face. I hastily wiped it away. Father wouldn't have liked me crying. He taught me that courage was important, that courage gave off the aura of control, knowledge. But I had no control over this. I had no courage. I was an orphan now. An orphan at nineteen. I wasn't even twenty yet. I was still a child, still indecisive. I didn't know what I was going to do with all of the money that was left to me.

I threw my rose into the grave. I had to let go now. I had to move on. I couldn't hold on to the past, but look forward towards the future. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to be all alone in a house. To eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner all alone. I didn't want to fall asleep by myself. I wanted the security of knowing that my parents were right down the hall, ready to help me if I have an asthma attack in the middle of the night. I didn't want to be alone when I get sick and needed a doctor. I wanted my parents.

Funny how we want the things we can't have, right?

I walked back to the car. I didn't know what I was going to do now. I didn't want to go back to the empty house and pity myself. I just wanted to go somewhere where no one knew me. Where no one cared if I had no family anymore.

There was a man waiting for me. He was wearing a black trench coat and bowler hat. He was not at the funeral, even though he was dressed like it. He held a manila envelope and was staring right at me. I clutched my umbrella handle tighter.

He introduced himself as Howard Dent and he wanted to discuss my parents last will and testaments with me. I ignored him and stepped into my car. He stopped my door from closing. I acknowledged him.

"What?" I hissed. My emotions were all over the place and I was in no mood for talking.

He said that the contents of my parents will were extremely important and should be addressed as soon as possible. He wanted to show them to me at the house. The empty house. My house. My back tensed. He wanted to go now.

I glared at him from under the rim of my black sunhat. Then, I gave in. I said that I would meet him there. That I was heading there right now. I knew that if I didn't do this now, then I would never do it, ever. Dent smiled in victory, and then wiped it off his face. He nodded and walked back to his sleek and shiny car and drove away. I sighed and started my engine. I would need a drink after this.

The drive home was quiet. I had the radio off and the pounding rain was a soft tapping inside the car. I was trying my best not to cry, but I was failing miserably. I was all alone now with only dust bunnies and the crazy maids who did nothing as company. I wiped the warm tears from my face and focused on the road. I could barely see five meters in front of me and I didn't want to get into a crash… or did I? I didn't have to go back home and see that everyone was missing. I didn't have to be alone… I shook the crazy thought out of my mind. I didn't want my freedoms restricted to a hospital bed.

I arrived at the manor, my manor now, twenty minutes later. Howard Dent was waiting in his car. When he saw me pull up in the driveway, he got out of his car with his umbrella and the manila folder. I got out of my car and ran towards the door while pulling out my keys. I walked inside the manor without waiting for Howard. I left the door open and took off my black coat and gloves. I sulked into the parlor and found that the maids had started the fire. I slipped off my heels and sat on the sofa, waiting for Dent. He showed up half a minute later, hatless and coatless, looking around the house in awe, manila envelope still in hand.

He complimented the crown molding and sat down next to me on the sofa. I scooted away from him a bit, but he took no notice. He opened the envelope and pulled out several official looking documents and a necklace. He set everything out in front on me and I peeked a little. The necklace was made of some silver metal with chipped gold paint and a lion pendent hung in the middle. It looked new, yet old. I picked it up, ignoring the questioning look I was getting from Dent. Looking at the necklace, I sensed something about it. Something familiar. I stared at it, hoping to get some sort of memory, but none came. I sighed and sat it down.

Dent got straight to the point. He was a Wizarding Lawyer and that my parents had contacted him through the mail. I nodded my head at this. My parents were Muggles, while I was a Witch; a Muggleborn. They didn't exactly understand the whole concept of 'owls' as mail carriers.

Dent continued about how there were some serious issues that he was going to talk about. Issues that dealt with my early childhood. He handed me the documents on the table, saying that everything I needed to know was in there. There were three papers. One on them was my parents Will and the other was a paper that I had to read last. The last paper was a letter addressed to me. I read the letter first.

"Dearest Sophie,

If you are reading this, then your mother and I have passed away before we could tell you everything that needed to be told. We want you to know that we loved and have always loved you with all of our beings and have always considered you a blessing. You were the gift the angels gave us late in life and we made sure that you were loved and pampered. You were our little princess. But, you were not our princess. We may have raised you, but you did not come from us. Sophie, you were adopted.

I'm sure that this information is overwhelming. I know that you may feel light-headed and you want to think of this letter as a dream, but Sophie, it is not. We adopted you from an orphanage that was not well known. It was our last choice. We found you covered in dirt and grime, but we saw the angel underneath. The woman in charge of the orphanage said that you were getting ill, had fainting spells and that you developed asthma, but we didn't care. We wanted the miracle. We wanted the perfect daughter, and we got her. You were the perfect daughter, Sophie, and we were blessed.

Sophie, as time passed, we noticed many odd things with you. You had always gotten almost everything that you wanted. Even when your mother and I didn't give it to you. We also noticed that whenever you didn't get what you wanted (which was rare, darling) everything in the house went absolutely bizarre. The lights flickered on and off, sometimes exploding, dishes flew off the shelves, and a few things even disappeared. We knew that we had gotten a very special child.

We have not regretted anything considering you, Sophie. We raised you well, a little spoiled, but well nevertheless. You know courage and loyalty, the line between right and wrong, and to never judge a book by it's cover. We taught you the joys of reading and learning and witnessed only a few times being your sly, mischievous self. You were shy and quiet most of the time, Sophie, but we knew that a fire raged inside you. That there was another person waiting to burst out. I hope she does. You deserve to be yourself, your whole self. Not just the person who is out of the way. We saw her in you as a child and we hope everyone else gets to see her now.

We loved you with all of our hearts, Sophie, and we knew that you loved us with all of yours. Don't be afraid to let go and love again. Your real parents are out there somewhere, waiting for you in some way, and if you want to know them, it's alright. You won't be betraying our memory or replacing us. We will always be with you in your heart.

Good-Bye, Angel. Live your life to the fullest and don't regret anything. Life is an adventure, so treat it that way!

All of our love, in your world and the next.

Edgar and Penelope Walsh."

I felt light-headed after I read the letter. I- I was adopted? I wasn't Sophie Walsh? I wasn't Edgar and Penelope's daughter? I was… Adopted? I began to hyperventilate and collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

I woke up disoriented. I had the weirdest dream. Mother and Father were dead and they left a note, a letter, saying that I was adopted. But I couldn't be adopted. There was no way. Father had red hair and Mother had blue eyes. Like me. But… Father didn't have the exact shade of red hair I had, and mother's eyes were more silver blue than ocean blue… But-but that didn't mean anything, did it?

I looked around and blushed. A man was standing over me, his eyes wide and uncertain. I slowly stood up and looked around again. Papers were on the ground and a necklace was on the coffee table. A lion necklace… I assumed my face held a mask of pure horror. My dream was real; it was all true. My parents were dead. I was adopted. I… I really was alone. I allowed a few tears to fall before I regained my composer. A certain Howard Dent was still in the room.

I sat down on the couch and picked up the necklace from the table. So, what did this piece of jewelry have to do with anything?

I rubbed my thumb over the face of the lion, and something hit me. A memory.

I was staring up at the clouds, trying to guess which cloud looked like a dragon. I was four years old.

"That one!" I pointed at a huge cloud.

"No, that's a goblin!" The boy next to me shook his head and pointed at another cloud. "That's a dragon!"

I squinted at the cloud that he was pointing at. "No, that looks like a bunny!"

"That's not a bunny! It's a big scary dragon!" The boy protested. He sat up and I got a better look at him. He had red, wild hair, bright blue eyes, and loads of freckles. He looked just like me.

"No, it looks like a big soft bunny rabbit!" I sat up too. "It does Ronny!"

Ronny groaned. "My name isn't Ronny, Amy! It's Ronald!"

"Your name is Ronny. Ronald sounds like a grown up name!" I whined.

Ronny stuck his tongue out at me. I stuck mine out too.

"I'm gonga ick ou!" Said Ronny, getting closer.

A bubble of laugher and terror emitted from me as I ran away from Ronny's tongue.

We ran around the yard, laughing and chasing each other.

The memory ended there. I blinked and looked down at the necklace. I was wearing that necklace in the memory. With Ronny. Ronald. Was he my brother? We looked nearly identical.

"Miss Walsh?" Dent interrupted my thoughts. I jumped and picked up my parents- my adopted parents wills.

"The Last Will and Testament of Edgar Marcus Walsh and Penelope Yvette Hall-Walsh

To Sophia Emilie Walsh, we leave everything in our possession, which includes our business- Walsh Trading- our money, and the house and all that it may contain, so that she may live her life with nearly everything she may need.

We also leave Sophia Emilie Walsh ten Private Investigators and ten Magical Investigators, so if she were to ever look for her family, people would always be at hand.

Edgar Marcus Walsh

Penelope Yvette Hall-Walsh"

I wiped my eyes and looked around. The house was officially mine. The money and the business was mine also. I also had Private Investigators in two worlds, ready to find my biological family.

I sniffed and looked at the last document. It was my adoption paper. I dried my eyes and read the paper seriously.

It said that I was dropped off at the orphanage seventeen days before I was adopted, with a necklace and torn clothes on. Two men left me on the door step and ran away into their van. They were chased five minutes later by police. I was five years old.

On my medical section of the legal paper, it said that I had asthma and that I was prone to fainting spells. It was also written that I would not, or could not, talk.

At the top, it said that I had no name.

I wiped my eyes again and put the paper down. I never told my name, so I got a new name. Why didn't I tell them my name? Why would I not talk?

I sighed and leaned back on the cushions. My mind was working overtime with all of this information. I let the paper drop to the floor and closed my eyes. I felt Dent get up from the sofa and cleared his throat.

"Well, then, Miss Walsh. If you have no questions, then, I guess I should be going. Here is my address if you wish to floo me, and, I suppose I'll go now." I heard Dent leave the room.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Everything was mine now. All of it. I stood up, still holding the necklace, and walked into the hall. I headed up the stairs, clutching my neck. It was getting hard to breathe. I needed my inhaler. I needed it now. I ran up the rest of the stairs and into my bathroom. All of the doors in the hallway were swinging on their hinges wildly. I slammed the medicine cabinet open and knocked all of my other medications out of the way. They flew across the room and exploded into showers of pills. I needed my inhaler! I found it, in the very back. I ripped the top off and squeezed. And squeezed. My breathing was getting shallower and shallower. My inhaler wasn't working. But it was. It just wasn't working on me.

I couldn't breathe. I fell to the ground with my medications. I curled into a fetal position. I tried to breathe, but I couldn't. Tears were running down my face like rivers. Like a dam broke and a flood was released. I couldn't breathe. I held on to my necklace as if it was my life. I quickly slipped into unconsciousness with one thought running around in my head.

I was adopted.