Hey! This is my FIRST ever fanfiction, so please don't be too harsh on me. The chapters are kind of short, but I have no idea how long to make them- so this will have to do. Please send me any feedback, I am looking forward to any response I get on this. And tell me if I should continue it... please? To you it's just one click and to me it's like heaven's broken loose. LOL. ENJOY! :)
CHAPTER 1: An inexplicable event
Penelope sighed. It would be no good to try to run from them now. As always, a group of evil-looking cloak-wearing men were chasing her. She didn't know who they were, or why they tailed her, but it was a mystery she was determined to solve.
Breathless, she turned round the corner of the street and ran into a dark alley. She soon wished she hadn't.
It was a shabby, poor place. Torn posters clung to the walls, which were lined with dirt. It was hardly in the best part of London. And facing her was the most ferocious black dog she had ever seen.
Struck with terror, Penelope stopped in midstep to contemplate the circumstances. A group of mysterious men? Or a big, black dog? She couldn't decide which was worse. Suddenly, she heard a sinister squeaking sound, and lifted her head to see a chipped wooden sign dangling above her head reading: The Leaky Cauldron.
Not one nor the other, she thought, and barged into the place.
One could not say who was more astonished.
Penelope was stunned as the crowd in what seemed to be a bar hushed and stared at her. They were all dressed in dark robes that brushed the ground as they sat.
The customers, in turn, were also shocked by Penelope's sudden appearance. Her punk style chestnut hair, Sex Pistols T-shirt and neon painted fingernails clashed dramatically with the old-fashioned aura of the bar.
It was the bartender who broke the silence.
"Who are you?"
"I'm P-Penelope J-Jones."
The bartender stared at her. Then, a woman who had stopped drinking what seemed to be beer and still held her mug high in her hand finally collected enough courage to speak up.
"But...how did you get here? I mean, you're a muggle aren't you?"
Penelope stared. "No-ye-er-a what?"
An old man gave the woman a warning look. The latter hesitated for a bit before adding, "You...you're not a witch are you? I mean, you come from a non-magical family?"
The young girl felt offended. A complete stranger, calling her a witch? Had they no respect for her?
"Excuse me, I must leave now. And I'll tell you that I'm no witch, magical or evil or whatever you mean by it. I only came in here because some men in cloaks were following me."
Tension filled the air. Some of the clients started whispering hurriedly. Others glanced worriedly at Penelope, murmuring things under their breath every now and then. But eventually, one spoke as the girl was about to leave through the old termite-eaten door.
"Look here, Poppy or Petra or-"
"Penelope."
"That. Well, your mother wouldn't happen to me Libby Jones, would she?"
Penelope stopped and withdrew her hand from the doorknob. Who was this stranger to know her mother's name? A man of forty-odd years whose shabby blond hair fell over his eyes.
Penelope hesitated before responding the affirmative.
The blond man nodded at the bartender, who instantly relaxed, and the bar returned to its normal atmosphere again. The blond man the turned to Penelope, and told her, "Come with me, I'll take you home. You'll be safe. The men won't harm you with me, don't worry."
The girl didn't want to go with the man, who the hell was he anyway? But he had known Penelope's mother's name without her ever mentioning it and- no, it was a risk she couldn't take. What if he was allied with the creepy men? But that just didn't seem to be possible. So the girl reluctantly agreed.
They disappeared onto the streets and into the dark evening.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK- Oh. It's you."
The blond man smiled.
"It's been a while Libby. We need to talk."
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