Author's Note: Hi there! After reading some fics here, I was inspired to try and write my own. I'm still not sure about what dimension they have here. I might stick with the book (Order of the Phoenix), or I might decide on making it AU. Oh well. We'll see. So, here we go! First story and fanfiction ever. I hope you like it! Do let me know what you think. Thanks!
I've reuploaded this chapter. I thank 'Rhiose' for being my Beta for it. :)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter :)
Chapter One
She scanned the shrubs beneath her tree. To an average person, nothing seemed to be down there, but to her she could hear the leaves crunching under his feet.
There you are.
It was futile really. He wouldn't be able to out run her. After all, she's a witch and he's just one.
Filthy.
Useless.
Muggle.
She quickly made her way down without a sound. She uttered charms in the vicinity. Waving about her wand, she murmured. "Silencio… Protego totalum… Repello Inimicum… Salvio Hexia…" It went on.
You wouldn't be able to make your escape now. Now… Where are you hiding?
He put his hand over his mouth. She mustn't hear him. He tried to stabilize his breathing. He was panting too much. He had been running and hiding from that demented lassie for about three hours now. It all began this morning.
It was quite a nice day today, actually. A gentle breeze, plentiful harvest, and it felt good to bask under the sun. You could smell the earth, and the fruits that were nearly falling off their twigs. Everyone was in a good mood, until the fire started.
The villagers tried to put the fire out, but they just couldn't. No matter how much water they poured, the fire didn't ebb away. It seemed to grow stronger and hotter as a high-pitched cackle pierced the chaotic air. They searched for the source of the disturbing laughter. One didn't expect it to come from a frail-looking girl.
She was wearing a dark cloak over a deep blue dress that reached just above her knees. She had auburn hair that seemed to glow with the inferno surrounding them. Her porcelain skin looked more fragile. Grime streaking her cheeks accentuated her high cheekbones and gave her a regal look. Her brown eyes were so intense that she looked quite mad. Standing there in the middle of the ring of fire now trapping them, she looked so eerie but at the same time like an angel sent to kill them all.
Brushing her curly hair away from her face, she raised her arm and pointed a twig at them. It was an odd looking twig, but as she started to brandish it, sparks flew out of it. Then it happened.
She was poised so gracefully that everyone seemed to be entranced by her in that moment. However, in the next, she started shouting—shrieking rather.
"Avada Kevadra!"
Green light constantly moved past them, and one by one, they fell to the ground. They became motionless. Some still had their eyes open. They're dead.
Bloody Nora. They're dead.
She kept on saying that phrase, no one understood it, but they do know that they must avoid it. People ran in panic. She didn't spare anyone, not even the children; she toppled in laughter every time one of them fell down. As the mayhem ensued, he ran towards the woods.
She was mad. He was a coward. A selfish coward at that.
Now he has to pay. He could feel it in his bones.
Someone whispered in his ear. "I. Found. You."
His heart stopped. He turned around and came face-to-face with the person he was running away from. HE knew he couldn't run. She was too close for comfort. So, he decided to take a shot in the dark. Taking a deep breath, he also took in her scent. Honey and cinnamon.
"Wh—who are you?"
She stared at him for the longest time. She was like baring her tainted soul to him. Lost in those beautiful brown orbs, he failed to notice how she pressed her wand to his chest; the one near his heart.
"Avada Kedavra," she whispered. "Goodbye, John."
Green lights.
He fell. She laughed.
She twirled, holding up her cloak as she did. She ran through the fields and assessed the damage she did. The flames were licking up every available space that it could burn. The soil was already blackened with soot and burnt blood. Its scent was sickening, but she loved every bit of it. It made her feel alive.
Perfect.
Making her way back to the last person she took, she let herself lay down beside him. She faced him as her fingers slowly traced his face, and then she gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
"I'm Charlie, Luke. I am her."
She giggled.
She gripped her sheets. Cold sweat peppered her forehead and her arms. It was that dream again. She still couldn't understand any of it. An odd feeling crept up on her. Somehow, it felt like it settled in her gut. She didn't like it one bit.
She drew her curtains back. She wasn't surprised at the redhead poking out of her own four-poster.
"Are you all right, Charlie?" Ginny Weasley asked. Worry was evident in her face, but she was slowly getting used to all of it.
"Yes. Don't worry about me, Gin," she said. Sweeping her auburn hair over her shoulder, she motioned for her friend to get back to sleep. "Let's just go back to sleep."
"Okay. See you in the morning."
"Good night."
"Night, Charlie."
Burying herself in her blankets, she stared at the ceiling of her four-poster. If she sleeps, she'll have that same dream yet again. If she doesn't, she'd be left haunted by questions and musings. Either way, it wouldn't be nice.
Oh yes. Welcome to the life of Charlie Wood.
Short. I know, but it's all I've got at the moment. A plot is intact, so... Review? :)
