The wind was howling at full speed, knocking down everything in its path.
Loud shrieks could be heard from all around, though the darkness was so
endless that not a figure could be seen. Yet out of the corner of one's
eye, you might see the shadowy lining of a mysterious figure with no way of
identifying them, or on occasion, "it".
"Mum! Father! Where are you!" The shrieks of the teenaged Megan Mortimer were noted with her partial French accent. She was holding on for dear life to a street lamp. The wind was trying to swallow everything around including her, as if to lead her into nothingness, a black hole. Megan wore a long blanket of shiny red hair flowing down to her waist. Diffused in the fiery ocean of red were leaves and pieces of pine straw.
Silence. There was no reply. She waited and waited but not a sound came. Overwhelmed with sadness and shock, she fell to the ground and fell into a deep sleep. She slept hours before anyone came; it seemed like minutes. It felt like a dream. This couldn't have happened. Not to her! She was nothing but a child. No more, no less. Megan still wasn't sure what had happened, but at the moment she didn't care. Filled with disbelief, she wanted to go back to sleep and wake up from this nightmare; Megan did.
-----------------------------------
"Young child, awake. It is now morning"
An unfamiliar voice filled Megan's ears. She looked up to see a man with a long white beard down to his waist. He wore half-moon spectacles and a soothing look that brought a bit of comfort to Megan's confusion. "What happened? Who are you? Am I dreaming? I-"
"Calm down, now," the strange man said. "I'll explain everything. But first, what is your name? Are you possibly a Mortimer? They are known for their red hair." The elderly man's face was as straight as a line, yet Megan could tell the man was smiling with his eyes. He seemed to be communicating with both his eyes and voice.
"Why yes. I am. Mortimer; Megan Mortimer. Please, explain. Please tell me who you are." Megan could hear the trembling going on in her voice.
The man gave a sigh as if what he was about to say was long. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. You might possibly know me from Hogwarts. I don't think you are a student there. Are you possibly from Beauxbatons?"
"No, I am not. My mother taught at Beauxbatons before she had me. She decided to teach me at home. I've never been to either school before."
"Well, child. The worry on your face is worrying me so I will get to my point. I know that you live in a muggle neighborhood, with many differences from wizard neighborhoods."
Megan replied, "Yes, we do. We lived in Hogsmeade until my father swore on his soul that he saw the convict Sirius Black there. So we moved to the muggle world. I'm sorry to sound so pushy, but how are my parents?"
"I really don't like being the one to tell you this. Megan, dear Megan. Your parents have been killed." Dumbledore saw Megan's bewilderment. "What happened last night was something called a tornado. It is called a natural disaster in the Muggle World. Here, we have spells to guard it. Your street was not so lucky. Don't worry, child. We have arranged for you to live with a student from my school named Hermione Granger. She is your age and I'm sure you will like her. Unless you object, you may continue with your magical education at Hogwarts."
Tears were streaming out of Megan's eyes. She nodded and got out of the bed. "Where am I!?"
"For the time being you are in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Your medicine should start kicking in and you will soon fall asleep. When you wake up you'll be at the Grangers. I bid you farewell and good luck. If you have any trouble, use an owl from the Grangers house. Goodbye, young Mortimer."
Before Megan could answer, Dumbledore faded away and all she could see was blackness and sleep. Her slumber was filled with nightmares and horrifying images of the previous night, though she still didn't fully believe it.
"Mum! Father! Where are you!" The shrieks of the teenaged Megan Mortimer were noted with her partial French accent. She was holding on for dear life to a street lamp. The wind was trying to swallow everything around including her, as if to lead her into nothingness, a black hole. Megan wore a long blanket of shiny red hair flowing down to her waist. Diffused in the fiery ocean of red were leaves and pieces of pine straw.
Silence. There was no reply. She waited and waited but not a sound came. Overwhelmed with sadness and shock, she fell to the ground and fell into a deep sleep. She slept hours before anyone came; it seemed like minutes. It felt like a dream. This couldn't have happened. Not to her! She was nothing but a child. No more, no less. Megan still wasn't sure what had happened, but at the moment she didn't care. Filled with disbelief, she wanted to go back to sleep and wake up from this nightmare; Megan did.
-----------------------------------
"Young child, awake. It is now morning"
An unfamiliar voice filled Megan's ears. She looked up to see a man with a long white beard down to his waist. He wore half-moon spectacles and a soothing look that brought a bit of comfort to Megan's confusion. "What happened? Who are you? Am I dreaming? I-"
"Calm down, now," the strange man said. "I'll explain everything. But first, what is your name? Are you possibly a Mortimer? They are known for their red hair." The elderly man's face was as straight as a line, yet Megan could tell the man was smiling with his eyes. He seemed to be communicating with both his eyes and voice.
"Why yes. I am. Mortimer; Megan Mortimer. Please, explain. Please tell me who you are." Megan could hear the trembling going on in her voice.
The man gave a sigh as if what he was about to say was long. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. You might possibly know me from Hogwarts. I don't think you are a student there. Are you possibly from Beauxbatons?"
"No, I am not. My mother taught at Beauxbatons before she had me. She decided to teach me at home. I've never been to either school before."
"Well, child. The worry on your face is worrying me so I will get to my point. I know that you live in a muggle neighborhood, with many differences from wizard neighborhoods."
Megan replied, "Yes, we do. We lived in Hogsmeade until my father swore on his soul that he saw the convict Sirius Black there. So we moved to the muggle world. I'm sorry to sound so pushy, but how are my parents?"
"I really don't like being the one to tell you this. Megan, dear Megan. Your parents have been killed." Dumbledore saw Megan's bewilderment. "What happened last night was something called a tornado. It is called a natural disaster in the Muggle World. Here, we have spells to guard it. Your street was not so lucky. Don't worry, child. We have arranged for you to live with a student from my school named Hermione Granger. She is your age and I'm sure you will like her. Unless you object, you may continue with your magical education at Hogwarts."
Tears were streaming out of Megan's eyes. She nodded and got out of the bed. "Where am I!?"
"For the time being you are in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Your medicine should start kicking in and you will soon fall asleep. When you wake up you'll be at the Grangers. I bid you farewell and good luck. If you have any trouble, use an owl from the Grangers house. Goodbye, young Mortimer."
Before Megan could answer, Dumbledore faded away and all she could see was blackness and sleep. Her slumber was filled with nightmares and horrifying images of the previous night, though she still didn't fully believe it.