Prologue
The alleyway was dark and quiet, surprising for the normally bustling world of Diagon Alley. Two men stood, hidden behind some sort of mist, conversing quietly. A girl lay between them, twelve at the oldest, her hands clutched around some sort of stick. Her long hair fell into her eyes in a white veil.
The girl was thrashing at their feet, almost possessed looking as she shook and wailed. One of the men bent over the girl and whispered something in her ear.
"It's almost time," he muttered to the other. The girl had stopped thrashing and now lay on the ground, unconscious.
"I'm really sorry," the man said. He stood up and walked off. The other man did the same, but not before putting a trunk and train ticket next to the girl's unconscious body.
"I hope you do better than the last one." Just a minute later, the girl opened her eyes. Her blood-red eyes.
