Chapter
One
s
Anna put the last few things into her trunk, she pushed a curly brown lock of
hair out of her face and thoughtfully glanced around her room. It was so bare and empty. She didn't want to move; it was her mother's
idea. She could hear Ms. Morgan's voice
in her head now: "It's the best thing for us, Anna, sweetie. I know you don't want to go back to London,
but it's where we belong. We can't keep
running, especially not in America. We
have to go back to London." Her mother
had certainly been right about one thing: America definitely hadn't agreed with
them. Anna's brother Xavier, only 17,
two years older than she, had run off with some American death eaters and
changed his name back to "Riddle." Anna
never wanted to follow in her father's footsteps, and she knew they had to
leave. But why back to London, of all
places? London is where this whole mess
started. Why not Canada? Or Australia?
She
closed her trunk and floated it into the air.
Pushing it down the hall she stopped in front of Xavier's old room. It too was empty. She closed her eyes and imagined that he was sitting at his desk
and writing his wonderful poetry. It
had only been a month since he left.
That was the last straw for her mother, and Anna hated Xavier for
that. Still, she couldn't help but miss
him.
She kept walking and pushed her trunk down the
stairs to the living room where a roaring fire was going, even in the heat of
August. Anna glanced at the
mantle. On it sat the jar of Floo Powder. She knew that when she walked through those
flames her whole life would change. She
wished the fire could somehow burn her past; burn her name. That was one of the many things Anna loved
about America. No one knew her
past. Once in London, though, she would
have to face that past all over again.
Morgan, her mother's maiden name, could no longer hide the truth.
"Anna?" Danielle Morgan called, bringing her
daughter back down to Earth.
"Yeah?" Anna yelled back, rather reluctantly.
"Are you ready yet, hun?"
"Yes, Mom," Anna replied, in the American accent
she'd come to
acquire
in the past seven or eight years of living there. She walked over to her
mother's room and leaned up against the door frame. Her mother was wearing her
jeans and only a bra and still packing some last minute things. Everything big, like furniture, had already
been sent ahead to London for when they found a place to live. Her mom's auburn hair was falling out of the
high ponytail it was in. Anna smiled, thinking of how much she loved her
mother. "Ya know, Mom," she started
playfully, "school over seas starts in two days, and I don't think I'd make a
good impression with the head master if I didn't show up on my first day."
"Quit worrying, Anna-Banana! You'll be there, you'll be there!"
Her mom's use of her baby name made her smile. Not
to mention the London accent she still had to make it sound even sweeter.
"Ok—finished," said Danielle as she shut and
locked her trunk. She dragged it out in
front of the fireplace and grabbed the Floo Powder. As the flames turned emerald Danielle laughed. "Diagon Alley, here we come!"
* *
*
As
they burst through the fire in the Leaky Cauldron, everyone in the little
British pub turned and glared at them.
Anna gulped.
She remembered that glare from almost eight years ago as she, Xavier,
and their mother walked down the streets in Hogsmeade when Anna was only seven
years old. It was the look of so many
mixed, yet suppressed feelings; feelings of anger and hate, but mostly of
fear. She despised that look even more
now since she could fully understand it.
Most people were scared of their little three-some, because they thought
one wrong move would get them Avada Kedavra-ed into nothingness. Some were angry because they thought the
"Morgans" belonged in Azkaban. No
matter what the people thought, Anna and her family were always hated. In America that all changed. That's why she couldn't understand why her
mother wanted to come back.
Anna's mother got the key from Tom, the bar
tender, and they trudged up the narrow staircase. The pub, which had remained silent while they were in it,
suddenly broke into very loud conversation.
Once in their room Anna put her trunk on her bed
and stared out the window down onto Diagon Alley. Great, Anna thought, more people to sneer at me and hate me. If I could have one friend. Just one…
Suddenly a boy in the streets stopped, shopping
bags on the ground, and stared straight at Anna. He winced, rubbed his forehead, picked up his bags, and hurried away.
Anna thought this very strange at first. On a second thought, however, she recognized
the boy. His messy black hair, his
round framed glasses—he was none other then Harry Potter, the boy she dreamt
about almost every night. She knew so
much about him, yet almost nothing at all.
One thing she did know was the one day they had in common: July
thirty-first, their birthday.
Anna then noticed another boy staring up at her
window. This boy she did not
recognize. He looked to be about her
age; his silver blond hair shone in the hot, late August sun. A smile, half out of delight, half of
horror, played across his face. He
winked up at Anna and then strode away down the cobble-stoned street. She wondered what it was that was getting
her all this attention. She walked
across the room to the vanity.
"Oh no!" Anna gasped. Her eyes were glowing a bright, murderous red. She rubbed them frantically. "Go away, go away, go away!" she urged
through clenched teeth. She looked in
the mirror again. "Damnit! Why is this
happening to me?"
"Anna, hunny?" her mother called from the
bathroom. "Are you okay?"
"Uh…" Anna began.
She forced herself to look into the mirror one last time. Finally, she thought. Her eyes had turned back to their normal emerald
color. "Nothing, Mom, I'm fine."
"Okay," her mother replied.
Anna walked to the window and, without looking at
Diagon Alley, pulled the curtains shut.
If she had looked out her window she would have
seen the hooded man that was now staring at her window from the street.
