The pain in my side was overwhelming. The cold wind whipped around me and pressed against my skin like knives. Every breath I took resulted in a stabbing side ache, but I did not slow down, I could not slow down.
As I made my way through the forest, there was only one thought in my mind, "Dumbledore."
I knew after everything I had gone through, Albus Dumbledore was my only hope.
It had been almost a week since I had left my home in the United States. I will never forget that night. The night where I was asleep in my bed, only to be awoken by screams and shouts of terror coming from the living room.
I jumped out of my bed and I heard a voice, a strangely calm voice, ask, "Where is she?"
I heard the voice of my mother respond, "Where is who? I don't know what you are talking about?"
"Oh, I think you do know." Before I could react, I heard the same man bellow, "Avada Kedavra!"
Though I had never heard those words before, I think that deep down I did know what they meant.
The flash of green light was visible under my bedroom door. I heard my mother's shrill screaming and I wrenched the door open so I could drink in the scene before me. My father lay a crumpled heap on the floor as my mother sobbed over his lifeless shell of a body. There were four cloaked people each covered, each covered in silver masks.
My mother looked up and screamed, "Run!" The four strangers all turned towards me, and, as instructed, I took off like the wind. I ran towards the back door of our small home, all the while hearing shouts of "Stupefy!" and seeing flashes of light jet by me. I didn't look back once to see if they if they were behind me.
I felt their presence. I sprinted out of the house and that is the last real image I remember of that night. I must have ran for miles without stopping.
Fear of getting murdered will do that to you.
So, here I was; making my way through dense forest. I knew I had to be getting close. Then I saw it, a light in the distance. Moving through some more trees, I saw my sanctuary, Hogwarts. I could no longer run and slowly limped my way down a grassy hill. My jacket was in tatters and my short white nightgown was shredded at the hem.
I kept limping down the hill. It must have been around midnight, so there was no one walking on the grounds. The pain in my side was becoming too much to bear. I couldn't even stand up straight anymore. I crawled on my hands and knees the last half mile or so to the wooden doors that marked the entrance. It must have taken me a half hour to crawl the seemingly short distance.
I was in so much pain up to this point. I finally made it to the doors and, with some sudden burst of strength, I managed to pound on the door. I beat on the wooden doors again and again. It seemed like hours passed, but in reality it could not have been more than ten minutes.
My vision was starting to blur and my surroundings were spinning. The large doors slowly creaked open to reveal a rather ugly, older man holding a cat. He reeked of alcohol.
I gasped out the words, "Dumbledore…Dumbledore…Please…Help."
My body could take no more and everything was abruptly covered in black.