Lizzie awoke the next morning in the hospital wing. Her mother's anxious face peered over her.
"Mom?" Lizzie mumbled. "Where am I?" Instead of lying on the cold stone floor, she felt a warm, soft bed beneath her.
Professor Minerva McGonagall looked sternly at her youngest daughter. "What were you doing last night, wandering the halls? I should take at least fifty points from Gryffindor." Then her voice and visage softened. "I was very worried to find you collapsed in the castle. Your friends searched everywhere last night trying to find you."
Lizzie squirmed beneath the sheets. She could stand her mother's anger but not her worry. "I'm sorry Mom. I was just thinking, and I got lost. By the way, where was I? I couldn't tell last night."
Her mother pursed her lips. "I -- well, I'm not quite sure Lizzie. I wasn't paying attention."
"Mom? Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course Lizzie, what is it?"
"It's just -- I feel bored."
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Bored?" There was amusement in her voice.
"I can't explain it," Lizzie exclaimed frustrated. "But I feel like everything's just always the same around here. Are you sure I can't help the Order?"
"Lizzie, only you would be so bold as to ask me that. Of course you can't! I'm sorry dear, but you're too young.
You're only thirteen years old --"
"Almost fourteen," Lizzie interrupted.
"Right, almost fourteen. Speaking of that, is there anything you want for your birthday?"
"Just an adventure," Lizzie said.
Her mother laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "You be good for Madam Pomfrey. I have to go now."
Lizzie kissed her mother on the cheek. "Okay, bye Mom."
She hurried to the door; but before she left, Professor Albus Dumbledore caught her arm and pulled her over into the corner, waving his wand to pull up a net of silence around them.
Curious, Lizzie grabbed her own wand and broke through the net with her own spell, taught to her by her older sister Tabby. The spell formed a small hole in the silence net and then funneled the sound back to the caster.
"Albus, what should I tell her?" Her mother's voice sounded eerily close. Lizzie instinctively glanced around to make sure no one was watching her.
"What can we tell her? Certainly not the truth. How is she?"
"She's fine, acting as if nothing happened. But she wants to know what happened?"
"So do I."
"But you must have some idea of what was done to her. Where was she Albus?"
Hesitation. "She -- she was in a place of extraordinary magical power Minerva. That's all we know for sure."
"But you don't think -- do you?"
"There is no proof. However, I cannot think of any other explaination. There is only one place in Hogwarts that has such a strong magical field. I don't know why Lizzie would be so susceptible to it, but it could be a sign."
"A sign of what? Lizzie is -- I know that she can be different, but she's just a nice normal little witch like her sisters."
"I wish you were right Minerva. But I think it's safe to say that Lizzie is certainly not like her sisters. I'm going to go check on her."
Hastily, Lizzie canceled her spell and stuck her wand back in her pocket. When her grandfather came over to check on her, she was the picture of the model young witch on the outside. Inside, however, her mind whirled in confusion. How was she different? And why wasn't she like Tabby and Vicky?
*****
The girl couldn't believe her eyes when she first saw the ocean. It stretched on seemingly forever, an endless field of blue that was perfectly flat and sparkled like the stars. Like a girl ten years younger, she tugged on her father's sleeve.
"Look Father! Is it not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?"
He laughed. "Oh Little One, I am sure that you will soon grow weary of the sight of the ocean, so enjoy it now."
She stared at the ocean with wide eyes. "Oh no Father, I could never grow weary of this sight."
He pointed at the horizon. "That is the land where we shall make our new home. No Little One," he said when he saw her squinting into the distance, "you cannot see it yet.
"How will we get there?" she asked.
"Do you see that speck on the horizon?" She nodded. "That is our ship which will take us to our new home." He gazed sadly at his daughter. "There no one can ever hurt us as they did here."
She self-consciously pulled her robes to further conceal the bruises that still adorned her arms and legs. If I weren't a witch, I probably would not have made it, she thought shuddering, but then her mind switched gears. It was only because of her magic that the townspeople had decided to go on a witchhunt, she though guiltily. And now Father and I must move. She glanced up at her father, but he was only gazing out at the sea peacefully. He did not look as if he was angry about the necessity for them to flee the village in which she had been born and her mother had died.
It took time for the ship to dock and to replenish its supplies, so it was not until several days later that the girl and her father set sail for their new home. The journey took many weeks. In the day, she would sit on the railing of the ship and watch the waves below and the sky above. She listened to the birds singing and the wind whistling. She stared at the western horizon until her eyes crossed and the sun set trying to catch her first glimpse of her new home. England. What a funny name!
At night her father would tell her stories, especially her favorite. Although she begged him for it every night, he only gave in on the fourth day of the journey.
"All right Little One," he finally said, "although you must know the story as well as I do by this point." He sat on the edge of her bed. "Are you sure you want to hear this one? It is very scary, you know." She nodded vigorously. "All right then.
"Until recently, England was a wild and untamed world for wizards and witches to live in. There were dragons, basiliks, and any number of beasts running around untamed. A traveler had to be on his guard constantly or else he would be swallowed up by a passing creature.
However, far worse than the animals were the evil spirits. Once they were men, but evil twisted and deformed them until they were less than men. Their souls had been poisoned by evil until they became Dementors, living only for the suffering of others. They scoured the countryside eager to snatch another person to drink his soul.
"Many years ago, before you were born, a young wizard appeared with more strength in him than any ten wizards. Unfortunately, the only thing greater than his strength was his darkness. The wizard found himself lured by the temptation of power and cruelty over others. He lost his soul and became known as the Lord of Death. He ruled over the Dementors and created his own league of other dark wizards to serve him. A few tried to resist his evil rule and tried to rebel, but all who stood in his path died horrific deaths. Until one.
"Even now, no one knows how he did it. He was just a tiny boy, only a few years old, when he defeated the Dark Lord and made the world a safe place for little ones like you to be born. But there was something in the boy which the Dark Lord could not kill. Instead, the boy's goodness reflected the curses back onto the Dark Lord, killing him forever. People say that he still lives in England today, fighting evil and darkness."
She clapped her hands together in happiness. "So we might see him Father!"
Her father smiled as his beloved daughter. "I suppose we may, although I doubt it. He is a very important wizard, Salazar Slytherin is."
