Harry snapped upright, hand to head, mouth fixed in a grimace of pain. The
last time his scar had hurt him was-was-at the graveyard facing Voldemort,
facing death. Harry shook his head. He hated thinking about that night,
about Cedric. If only he had known, if only he had just taken the cup for
himself, if only, if only- no. If only, if only, it didn't matter. What
happened happened and there was nothing anyone could do about it. And the
only person to blame was Voldemort. He had ruined everything. What could
have been a Hogwart's victory had been turned into tragedy. Someday the
Wizarding world will get its revenge, he thought. He pushed these thoughts
from his mind. They would only cause depression and anger. Tomorrow, he
thought, tomorrow I will send Ron an owl. His father works for the
ministry; he'll know what's happened. Who knows, he thought with a smile,
maybe this pain in his scar could be looked at as a good thing. Maybe
tonight, someone else had gained a scar.
Leslie gazed out the small window of the airplane at the blue sky blended with the ocean below. She was flying thousands of miles away to London to live with a Grandmother she had never met before. She continued looking out the window not risking even a glance at her temporary guardian, Mr.Beevil. He was creeping her out, staring at her as if he just couldn't figure her out. He should be trying to comfort me instead of creeping me out, she thought. Me, the poor girl whose parents were murdered. It hadn't really hit her yet, that her parents were dead. So much had happened in the past few days. The police had tried to get information about that night from her, but the truth was she couldn't remember a thing. She couldn't even find out how she had ended up unconscious on the floor in her parent's room, or why she wasn't dead, why the murderer hadn't killed her too. The police confirmed this as post traumatic amnesia, and sent her off to live with her long lost grandmother whom she couldn't even remember ever getting a Christmas card from. I t was her Dad's mother but she couldn't remember her father ever saying anything about her, or about anything from his past for that matter. All she knew was that both of her parents were born and raised in England. Clouds were beginning to cover Leslie's view, as she found her hand clutching the pendent around her neck. It was something she had found of her mother's. She remembered her mother wearing it often, and she had always thought it was very pretty and mysterious. It was a pewter leaf surrounded by vines with a small gemstone in the middle. I should have asked them more about their past, she thought, to late now. She fingered the pendent fondly and thought of her mother as she watched the clouds outside begin to clear and a city appear below. Overhead the fasten seatbelt button glowed a bright orange and the intercom crackled,
"Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts and put all tray-tables in the upright position as we begin our descent. Thank you for flying British Airways. Welcome to London."
Leslie gazed out the small window of the airplane at the blue sky blended with the ocean below. She was flying thousands of miles away to London to live with a Grandmother she had never met before. She continued looking out the window not risking even a glance at her temporary guardian, Mr.Beevil. He was creeping her out, staring at her as if he just couldn't figure her out. He should be trying to comfort me instead of creeping me out, she thought. Me, the poor girl whose parents were murdered. It hadn't really hit her yet, that her parents were dead. So much had happened in the past few days. The police had tried to get information about that night from her, but the truth was she couldn't remember a thing. She couldn't even find out how she had ended up unconscious on the floor in her parent's room, or why she wasn't dead, why the murderer hadn't killed her too. The police confirmed this as post traumatic amnesia, and sent her off to live with her long lost grandmother whom she couldn't even remember ever getting a Christmas card from. I t was her Dad's mother but she couldn't remember her father ever saying anything about her, or about anything from his past for that matter. All she knew was that both of her parents were born and raised in England. Clouds were beginning to cover Leslie's view, as she found her hand clutching the pendent around her neck. It was something she had found of her mother's. She remembered her mother wearing it often, and she had always thought it was very pretty and mysterious. It was a pewter leaf surrounded by vines with a small gemstone in the middle. I should have asked them more about their past, she thought, to late now. She fingered the pendent fondly and thought of her mother as she watched the clouds outside begin to clear and a city appear below. Overhead the fasten seatbelt button glowed a bright orange and the intercom crackled,
"Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts and put all tray-tables in the upright position as we begin our descent. Thank you for flying British Airways. Welcome to London."