Disclaimer: I do not, Have not ,and Will not ever own Harry Potter.
I'd be rich if I did. And I'm not rich.
Prologue
The Call continues to ring through my mind.
Pulling me, forcing me, through an old rundown neighborhood. Trash lays in the street, windows have been either boarded or broken, most doors show signs of forced entry. These facts should have disturbed me, but I wasn't able to focus.
The Call has filled my mind to the brim. For the first time in years, I can't concentrate. It's all I can do to just notice the barest of details. I just numbly stumble along my way, without a care for; what I pass, where I am, or what happened to my parents. All because the Call rings.
Eventually, it brings me to an old house with a picket fence and a two car garage. The lawn hadn't been mowed in years and was filled with weeds, the pickets were starting to fall off the fence, and paint was chipping off the buildings. It had been abandoned many years ago. The windows were still intact and the door firmly in place. The house didn't appear to have been broken into. An oddity, considering the area.
The Call, which had died down when I reached the yard, suddenly redoubled it's efforts to bring me forward. Passed the picket fence, threw a newly broken window, and into the living room.
And there, on a pedestal, it sat.
The source of the Call.
The Cat in Glass.
