Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, minus Annette (my little OC). All rights go J.K. Rowling, that wonderful author we all know and love!:)
Strong winds terrorized the shores of an eerie beach. An increasingly horrid downpour made the fine sand of the beach a theoretically impassable wasteland. Long grasses fought their way out of the sludge like sand. Yet, a pair of delicate, bare, dainty feet danced across the sand's top surface.
A young girl, around eight years old, let her ash brown hair soak in the in monsoon reminiscent weather, lines of water streaming down her pigtails equally. She has porcelain skin that shines with water droplets that graze her petite form. Her deep green eyes darted, around attempting to see what was in front of them, and her face wrinkled up with a giant grin plastered on it. She hummed a tuneless melody as she leaped, skipped, and hopped through the treacherous landscape. She wore a leather backpack that got thoroughly soaked, but the opening was sealed so tight, the contents stayed nice and dry.
She arrived at the foot of a cliff, whose edge extends to cover a large patch of the beach. Her grin dipped down into a simple smile as she walked underneath its cover. She shaked off the rain, similar to that of a dog after receiving a bath, and settled down in the driest area of the coverage. She looked around for a second and then dumped the contents of her bag onto the dry sand. It appeared to be only a small loaf of bread, a couple of thick, round stones, and what seemed to be a small collection of sticks. Though the rest of the sticks appeared to be nothing special, one stick stood out, with detailed carvings,and was about a foot long.
The little girl set up a few of her twigs in a pyramid form, and surrounded it by her stones. She turned and plucked a handful of thoroughly soaked grass,and tucked it neatly under the sticks, along with some other broken pieces of thin wood for kindling. She carefully picked up the decorated piece of wood and pointed it at the center of the little structure, and whispered something intangible.
Suddenly, sparks flew from the tip of the stick and set the rest of the wood ablaze. She tucked her instrument back into her backpack for safety and took the loaf and stuck it onto the end of one remaining broken tree branch and slowly began to roast the bread over the open fire.
Sadly, the peaceful retreat from the rain was almost immediately ended by the sound of a faint pop! in the distance. Before the little eight year old girl could realize what was about to happen, an evil form, adorned in pink fabric, loomed over her.
