A jabbed beam of midnight-blue light flew towards the band of Hogwartians – teachers, students and members of the Order of the Phoenix alike. The last thing Minerva McGonagall saw was Bellatrix Lestrange, her face twisted up into a malicious, triumphant sneer. Then, an ear-splitting screech ripped through the Great Hall, before all was silent and all was pitch-black.
Heart pounding, stomach lurching, McGonagall had the sensation of teetering precariously on the edge of a cliff, before the ground was ripped from beneath her slipper-clad feet, and she was falling – her body was like a whip cracking through the air, she was hurtling in a downwards spiral.
With a tremendous crash, Minerva collided with the ground. She lay for a few seconds, every cell in her body screaming in agony, before leaping up again, her wand waving wildly at everything in sight.
She was no longer at Hogwarts. Her home for the last thirty-nine years was gone. Fighting off the drowning sense of despair that threatened to consume her, she whipped around in a circle, before cautiously turning around once more – slowly this time, drinking in all of her surroundings.
Minerva appeared to be standing in a teenage girl's bedroom. The walls were painted a faded lilac, plastered with posters; the carpet was blue, littered with several brightly coloured rugs.
A desk chair stood in the middle of the floor, quite out of place, as it was no-where near the wooden desk in the corner. Clothes had been hastily slung over the back of the chair, along with a small handbag.
A bookshelf, crammed with what seemed like hundreds of books, was next to a full-length mirror. Taped to the top of the mirror was a crumpled piece of paper, displaying the words 'Grace is really nice and funny'. The handwriting was wobbly and childish, and the dog-eared piece of paper seemed to be fairly old.
There was also a cream chest of drawers, Minerva couldn't see the top surface of it as it was covered in perfume bottles, and hairbrushes, hair bobbles and a strange looking machine that Minerva suspected was called a J-pod. Or maybe an E-pod. Something along those lines anyway.
The comfortable-looking bed had been hastily made – the purple duvet tossed carelessly on top of the mattress, and the three pillows had been shoved to the area around about the headboard. A pair of crumpled pyjamas had been strewn over the pillows, and Minerva could also see a worn pale blue dressing gown – though it was lying in a heap behind the wooden bedroom door.
The desk was covered with scrawled-over paper, a red pencil case, a pin-board which was overflowing with photographs of grinning adolescents (the majority of them picturing four very different girls: a tall, willowy one with blood-red curls, ivory skin and emerald, twinkling eyes; another with long golden coloured wavy locks, her eyes appeared to be a clear, stormy grey; a tall curvy girl with coal-black, straight hair, and very unusually with sky blue eyes; and the last was a small, slight teenager, with caramel coloured hair and liquid brown eyes.)
The main picture on the pin-board, however, showed the same four girls, along with three boys. One boy was a tall, strapping lad with skin so dark it would have been ink, his white teeth flashing at the camera; the next was tall and lanky with a gentle smile and –
Minerva didn't have enough time to examine the last boy as from the next room she heard a familiar voice say
"Where in the name of Merlin's dirtiest socks are we?"
They were back in the bedroom where McGonagall had landed unceremoniously a few hours ago. It turned out that quite a few people had been forced out of Hogwarts by Bellatrix Lestrange's spell - Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Hagrid and Dumbledore, Fred and George Weasley, and Luna Lovegood.
After several explorations of the strange house – as well as the first bedroom, there was a spacious kitchen; two other children's bedroom (both girls, though Minerva had concluded that they must be younger than the owner of the first bedroom); another bedroom, this one the master bedroom which overlooked a meadow which could have been taken from a book – the grass was a luscious green, around the edge were tall proud trees whose leaves were rippling lazily in the breeze.
Sirius, Fred and George were roaring with laughter at some undoubtedly 'hilarious' story which seemed to involve a pack of Exploding Snap cards and a bag of Fizzing Wizbees. Minerva didn't particularly want to know the details.
Molly Weasley was smiling fondly at her husband who was examining the room with expression of utmost delight as it was crammed to the brim with all sorts of muggle inventions.
Nymphadora and Luna were chatting animatedly, Nymphadora seemed to be holding back a smile, no doubt Luna was describing in great detail another of her father's creatures.
Lupin and Dumbledore were both frowning over a piece of paper, something to do with new proposed anti-werewolf legislations, which if passed would provide even more difficulties for Remus.
Hagrid was surveying the scene before him with a serene air about him, absent-mindedly stroking the plump black and white cat which had wandered into the bedroom about an hour ago. Moody had nearly killed it, but Hagrid had shouted out in protest, and as the cat seemed to be harmless enough albeit it seemed to cry every time some-one attempted to remove it from Hagrid's lap.
Moody still had his wand trained on the door, his magical eye fixed on the window. After he had prowled around the house several times with the others, demanding that every inch was combed for dark objects – a task which became fairly repetitive the sixth time round, he had refused to let anyone leave the bedroom. He had cast multiple defensive spells, many of them seemed unnecessary to Minerva, but she had kept her mouth shut, knowing how Moody would retaliate. Now and again he would disturb the otherwise relaxed atmosphere with the bellow of 'CONSTANT VILLIGANCE!'
Everyone froze as a key turned in a lock, and a squeaky door was pushed open. The panic and tension in the air was tangible as wooden stairs groaned in protest as footsteps made their way up them, a loud bang caused Luna to jump nearly a foot in the air. Feet scuffed their way along the hallway carpet, and paused for a moment whilst someone shoved the bedroom door open.
Their stood the red-haired girl from the pictures. Her bright green eyes were widened in shock at the sight of twelve complete strangers standing in her room, all pointing their wands at her and all wearing exceptionally threatening expression.
She wore a school uniform, a navy blazer with a crest sewn on the pocket; a baggy grey jumper with two navy stripes around the neckline; a grey skirt; a white blouse with the top button undone and a navy tie with the same crest, messily tied.
Over one shoulder was a scuffed schoolbag, which then dropped to the carpeted ground with a noisy thump.
The girl's pretty face was frozen in shock and horror, her mouth gaping open and her eyebrows knitted together in a terrified frown.
A red beam of light erupted from Moody's wand, and the girl crumpled to the ground as if dead.
'Nice one Moody. That's a really nice welcome home. Bet she's gonna love you when she wakes up,' Nymphadora's voice broke the silence, sounding calm but with a slight frightened edge to it.
'I'd rather have her hate me than let her kill me,' Moody growled as her grabbed one of the unconscious girl's arms and dragged her carelessly into the room.
This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, and the idea just popped into my head, so please let me know what you think of it!