Disclaimer: Don't own it. Just play with it.
Summary: People say pictures are worth a thousand words. But this one is worth many more, in the eyes of a 9 year old.
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The picture is old; at least 70 years. It looks brown and faded, and the figures inside are so old and the picture is so badly developed, they have stopped moving. The picture is of a dark room, with what looks like an arch inside it. How anyone got a picture of this moment is beyond you, but it's a fantastic picture.
Inside the picture, there are seven people. You can see the faces of 6 of them. The seventh is off, in the distance. All you can tell is he is an adult male, who looks bald-wait, is that an earring?
At the front of the picture are two boys. The first is on the ground. He is slightly chubby and has brown hair that is just beginning to touch his eyes. His mouth is opened, just slightly, and he is staring at the other boy. The look of surprise is clear on his face. And lying on the ground next to him is what looks like glass, maybe from an orb, or something.
The other boy standing up next to him has black hair, the messiest you've EVER seen (and that includes all of Grandma Rose's relatives-and some of them look so weird). His mouth is opened; as if he's shouting something you'll never know. But his almond shaped green eyes are focused on something else.
Slightly behind the boys, by the large arch, are two people. One male, one female. The man is slowly falling backwards, as if he's falling into the arch. His face is full of laughter, as if it's a joke. His wand is lying in his hand, but he makes no effort to use it. The woman looks just as strange. She has wild black hair that's just everywhere and she's laughing at the man, looking much more crazy than he is. Her wand is in her hand as well, and it has green sparks-most likely from a spell- still lingering onto the wood.
And not very far away from them are the final two people. One is a woman with what looks like spiky pink hair. Her clothes are ripped jeans and a t-shirt underneath a black robe. She's lying on the ground looking unconscious - or maybe even dead. The second is a man with old tattered robes. His face is scarred and he's looking at the woman with such love and worry in his eyes that even you, a nine-year-old boy, can tell there is something going on between them.
You don't know who any of the people are, but you do know that this very moment changed something. You don't know what, but something.
You take the picture out of the old journal and run down to the library, where your grandmother is sitting, reading a giant book.
You show her the picture, and she sits there, slightly shocked. After she recovers, she says, " Oh sweetie, do you want to know the story of those people?"
And you reply, "Who wouldn't?"
So you Grandma Rose makes you sit down and she tells you the whole story, starting with "Do you remember the time I told you about my Uncle Harry Potter? Well in his fifth year at…" And she tells you the whole long story.
And even years later, when you had learned much more about Harry Potter and both of the wars, the picture stays clear in your mind. Your grandma had always told you that a picture's worth a thousand words, but when you remember looking at the picture then, and over the years, you know that some pictures (or maybe just this one) can be worth maybe even more than a million.
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