Morgan Lestrange
At every single school, there's that weird kid. The antisocial misfit who barely talks to anyone. Who always leaves school before everyone hits the hall ways. Well, where I come from, that person is me.
I'm not actually antisocial. Or a misfit. I'm forced to be.
I was throwing my books into my bag as fast as I could. Ineedtogo, was all I thought. I can't take the bus, the police patrol them.
"Hayley," someone started. For a second I didn't realize she was talking to me. Everyone looked my direction. "Why do you always rush to leave? It's not like you take the bus or anything."
"I- Uh- I- I've been grounded for a while. I have to be home quickly. And buses gross me out." I silently applauded myself for such a good answer.
"Ooh, what did you do?" And that's when I started doubting myself. I've been leaving quickly all year, and it's March. That's a bit of a harsh punishment.
"I- uh- I'm running late- Bye!" And I ran out of the school, leaving them standing there, wondering.
Ten minutes. After the police patrol the buses, they will return their focus to the city. If they see me, I'll be taken away.
It was raining. Not terribly, but it was raining. The ground was very wet, though, and since my usual route cuts through several backyards, by the time I got home my shoes were completely wet.
"Morgan? Is that you?" my sister called when I walked in the door. Cassidy came soaring down the stairs, her black curls bouncing. My hair is black like hers, but not curly. I stood leaning against the front door's window. She didn't look herself.
"Hey, where's mom and dad?" I asked, noticing the fearful look in her eyes.
"I don't know! I got home from school and they were gone." Cass, being thirteen, goes to the middle school, and takes a different route home than I do. She usually gets home before I do.
"Did they get taken away? What do we do, Morgan?" she cried. Tears welled up in eyes. I took a deep breath.
"Relax, Cass, they probably just went to get something. Wouldn't the police still be-" But her eyes grew huge, and all I heard was the screeching of tires against wet asphalt. I turned around. The police had arrived.
"Okay, go all the way upstairs to the attic. Turn the light off and hide in one of the boxes. Don't make a peep, and don't panic when you hear them in there. Go!" And she ran up the stairs as fast as she could. I ran into the living room and into the coat closet. I pulled the clothes around me as I huddled into the corner. Some hiding place.
The officer walked slowly around my house. He went upstairs first, and each step made my heart beat faster and faster. I felt sick. He didn't start clomping down the stairs until about twenty minutes later, and I could tell he didn't find my sister.
He looked everywhere; in the cabinets, under couches, I even think I heard him open up the oven. I couldn't see, but I could hear him moving around the furniture.
Heknowswere the only two words going through my head. Why else would he save the closet I'm in for last?
The door swung open slowly. The light flicked on. He rustled around some of the clothes on hangers. He turned off of the light and went to shut the door…
And that's when he got me. He grabbed me by the leg and dragged me out of the closet. I jumped up and started to run, but he grabbed my arm and threw me against the wall. I tried to punch him, but he took my fist and twisted my arm behind my back. He quickly snapped handcuffs around my wrists. I tried to shake him off, but he shoved me against the wall and held my arms steady.
"What's your name?" he asked/yelled.
"Hayley Marshall." That's my universal fake name.
"You're lying. There is no one by the surname of Marshall in this town. Tell me your real name!"
I stayed silent until he pulled out his taser gun and held it dangerously close. It wasn't on, but it very well could be.
"Lestrange. Morgan Lestrange." I whispered. He loosened up and pushed me towards the door. I tried to fight. But he just wouldn't put away his taser.
The police station was dull. The walls were gray, the chairs were gray, it just felt gray. The cop pushed me down into a chair next to some other kid.
"Are you in here for the same reason?" I didn't even realize who it was.
"Wow… I always knew I'd see Morgan Lestrange in the middle of a Police Station someday." I looked over to see Liam Potter, the person I spent my childhood with. When everything was easy. I smiled.
"Potter?I always thought you were too good for this." Liam's family had to go into hiding when we were ten years old because they are descendants of Harry Potter. I remember I cried the night my mom told me they were leaving. Liam had been my only friend back in the day.
"Yeah, something like that. So, how've the muggles been treating you?"
"Surprisingly, this is my first time getting caught. Is your mom and Lucia alright?" Lucia is Liam's sister. His father was killed right before the Potters went into hiding.
"I don't know, I-It's a long way from where they are."
"What do you think they're going to do with us?"
"You." An officer leaning against a door called. The one from before came over and pulled me by the shirt into the other room.
He pushed me into a single chair at a large table. The room was small and dark, besides one dim light shining above.
"You do know who you are, don't you?" A very official looking man sitting across the table spoke. He war a very nice suit, and he slid a mug back and forth between his hands.
"Yes."
"Lestrange. Morgan, am I correct?"
"Yes."
"Let's take a look at your family tree." He pulled out a folder, and in the folder was my family tree. Back up several generations were lots of people. Bad people, except a few. Lot's of people named after stars.
"See this? Bellatrix. Bellatrix Lestrange." I cringed at the sound of her name. I've heard stories about what she has done. When I was a child, I would have nightmares about her.
"Right hand man- or should I say woman- to Lord Voldemort." He looked me in the eye. "Ever heard of him?"
"Yes."
"He killed a lot of people. And he didn't like us humans."
"What do you mean, us humans?."
"You people call us muggles. I call us humans."
"We're all the same, magic or none." I was starting to get angry.
"I wouldn't necessarily say you people are humans. You're wizards. How do I even know if you're real?"
"I'm sitting right in from of you."
"What does that prove?"
"Whatever you want it to. This is a serious waste of both of our time."
"Let's go back to your family. Malfoy? Black? Do these names sound familiar to you?"
"You can't judge the entire Black family."
"They were all Slytherin."
"That's not true. What do you even know of Hogwarts, anyway?" Hogwarts was destroyed twenty years ago by the Muggles. Which is why me, my sister, and every other wizard has to go to public schools. Muggle-borns could go their entire lives without knowing if they're wizards or not. It's insane. He shook his head slowly.
"You're parents are dead, Ms. Lestrange." And that sure hit me like a ton of bricks.
"You're sick."
"They were executed because they refused to cooperate."
"What did we ever do to you?" I tried to snap the handcuffs, but they were solid metal.
"That goes way before your time, Ms. Lestrange."
"Why can't we put that behind us? Lord Voldemort was defeated by Harry Potter!"
"Yes, but everything that happened at that time effected the human world, and now we are setting everything straight. The Potters are in the process of being hunted down and eliminated."
"That's impossible, the Potter name died off years ago." My family and the Potters concocted this very deep lie about how the Potter name died off thirty years ago when the only children born under James, Lily, and Albus were girls. A lot of people believed it.
"Oh, is that so? Then will you please explain to me why a Potter is standing right behind you?"
I turned around in my chair to see Liam right behind me, with an officer gripping his shoulder. Another one pulled me out of my chair and started walking me out.
"Good luck." I whispered before the police officer threw me out of the room.