Harry Potter -
A boy lay huddled on the floor, his eyes shut tight, whispering to himself. His clothes were ripped and dark hair brushed over his eyes. He was rocking backwards and forwards, like a metronome, unable to bring himself around to what had just happened. He slowly got up, his heart pounding through his chest. He opened his eyes to see again his dad's lifeless body, with his eyes piecing through his own. Moraz stepped over his dad's body and looked out of the window. Streetlamps flooded the dark, winding road with light, and the moon was covered by clouds. It seemed like nobody had came to Godrics Way, nobody who would be capable of murder and torture, but then again, dark times like these, anything is possible. Moraz hastily went upstairs and grabbed his wand. He needed to find the killer, but knowing that they had Apparated, they could be in Scotland for all he knew. Hopelessness swept over him, and anger filled him, his mission was to find the killer and avenge his dad.
The Snatchers who killed Moraz's father had already taken plenty of his things, so he was left with basically nothing, but a wand. His mother, who he had never met, left him when he was a baby, when she realised her husband was a vampire and a wizard, which he could understand would truly shock her. Sadness would often engulf him when he thought about it, because he was part vampire too, and knew she would disown him. He would often think that if his mother was a witch, she would understand, and he would have grown up with a mother, to look after him while his dad was at work, or buy him Quiddich robes when he was on the team, but this never happened.
For a 17 year old boy, Moraz had plenty of spells up his sleeve and was very clever. He finished his final year at Hogwarts, and was now on the verge of finding a job. His downfall was that he had only four Apparition lessons, and wasn't quite there with it, as he suffered from minor splinching, such as eyebrows, and toe nails. His father had told him a lot of things about vampire magic and skills, so he had advantages over other wizards such as speed and super senses. This used to make him popular at Hogwarts, as people would always want to see Moraz in action. Deep in thought, he ran downstairs again, flew the front door open, and stepped outside.
Cold air blasted him in the face, and his hairs on the back of his neck flew up. Shivering slightly, he walked down the pathways, thinking of what to do next. He thought of going to a neighbour, telling what had happened, but then the Muggle police would flood him with lots of questions he couldn't answer without giving information on the magical world. He then thought the Ministry Of Magic, but realised the Death Eater working there would obviously known the Snatchers had been at work, and would have ignored it completely. He now knew he was on the run, if the Death Eaters found out he was giving information on them, he was dead. Moraz Scrimgeour walked a mile from his house, to an alley with plenty of graffiti and looked like a dodgy place to be. At the end of the alley, he walked along the street slowly. A couple of people were standing near a bus stop, looking aimlessly into the sky. Moraz clenched his hand over his wand, just in case any of the people attacked. Once or twice, he swung his head over his shoulder after hearing a noise that disturbed his thought, but it was nothing that could harm him. He was still shaking, the thought of his dads body, laying of the floor, haunted him. Moraz finally made his mind up and stuck out his wand and thought of transportation that would take him anywhere.
Just then, a big, blue triple decker bus steamed around the corner with a loud BANG. Moraz stood back as it came to a halt, inches from his face. He looked at the driver, who was wearing a mask and a long dark cloak, smoking at the seams. A shock shook him as he realised there were Death Eaters controlling all magical transport, so his flee from London would be so much harder. But he had no choice. Moraz stepped up onto the bus and another masked man appeared, with his wand in his hand by his side.
'What is your Blood Status?' he barked, making Moraz jump. Moraz's mouth was dry; the people in front of him were linked to his father's death, because all Death Eater are informed on death of wizards.
'Err…Pure blood' Moraz replied, a little shakily, which didn't sound convincing. There was a slight pause, and the Death Eater spoke again, in a high voice. 'What is your name?' Moraz knew that if he gave his real name away, he would be dead before he could say 'Joke'. 'My name is James Collins and my dad works in The Department of Disposal Of Magical Creatures, you can check' Moraz said, and this time he was convincing. The Death Eaters scowled at Moraz, but nodded to one another and let him on. The bus was full of beds, empty beds and Moraz sat down on one. The Death Eater asked where he wants to go, and Moraz wasn't exactly sure himself. 'To the Leaky Cauldron pl-' and before he could finish there was a loud BANG and the bus set off again. It was utterly, blindingly fast, and the beds shook around endlessly.
Moraz felt anger strike through him as he was forced to watch Death Eaters hurl curses out of the windows of the bus, hitting Muggles and cars as they walked and drove. The bus got faster and faster, missing cars by inches and loud crashes pierced Moraz's ears as curses collided with cars. Moraz forced his eyes shut, so he didn't see what was going on. Suddenly, the Knight Bus stopped with a bang, and Moraz stood up, eager to leave. Just as he was exiting the bus, one of the Death Eaters grabbed his hand, and Moraz jumped. 'I think I recognise you' he growled. Moraz's heart missed a beat. 'You honestly don't know me, I have never seen you before' The Death Eaters eyes squinted behind his steel mask, not believing in what he was saying. Moraz moved his hand away, and hastily got off the bus, he could still feel the Death Eaters eyes following him as he ventured into the depths of London.