Chapter 2

Suddenly he stops. I look up. We are standing before a row of houses. If it is possible they look even older and filthier than the others in the alley. I wonder if the man really lives here. "Here, take this" he says. He puts something in my hand, and I open it. It is a piece of paper. "What...?" I look at him.

"Shh, just read it" I take the paper and look what's on it.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number 12, Grimmauld Place.

I look up. The house to the right has the number 13 on the door. I let my eyes wander to the left. I see the number 11 and next to that 10. Surprised I try to find the '12' but in vain. Questioning I look at the man again. He seems a bit impatient and also, as I look closer, anxious. I open my mouth but he doesn't let me say a word:

"Don't!" I start. "Please, just think about what you just read, repeat them in your head and give me that paper again."

It seems he is really fearing something now. He is looking around, as though expecting something awful to happen. Quickly I do what he asked me. I haven't really finished the words "Grimmauld Place" in my mind, when a sudden movement before me attracts my attention. Bewildered I see a door appearing in the row of houses between the number 11 and 13. I pinch my arm. It hurts, I'm not dreaming! I rub my eyes and look again, but I wasn't mistaken: the number 12, which I searched so hard seconds before, is now unmistakable before me as though it has always been there. My mouth hangs half open and a sudden fear comes over me again. What the hell am I doing here? What is this all supposed to mean? It is a bad joke, it must be, this isn't real. I want to turn around and run, run before the man even realises I'm gone. This is bad, one bad joke. But the hand of the man is on my shoulder again and my legs are refusing every order that my brains is giving them.

The man takes a step forwards and taps the door one time with his wooden staff. Even the new black door before me is strange, it misses something, but I don't realise what that is until it makes odd metallic clicks and creaks open; a keyhole! How did he open the door?!

"Go! Go inside, please!" he groans, desperate. "Walk through the hall but be quiet! Open the door on the end and ask the people in there if somebody can help me, be quick! Go! Hurry!" Still in shock I do what I'm told, and ignore the feeling to do just the opposite from what he is saying and flee. Hesitating I take a few steps into the hall. It is dark there, I can't see anything. The light from the lanterns reaches only a few feet indoors. I look around "Go! Please! I need help! Be quick!"

Why did he need help? What was going on? I stare at him a few seconds. It seems he really needs help; he looks as though he needed it: breathing fast and with bewildered eyes. More confident I continue. After 5 steps there is only total darkness around me and I walk further with my hands stretched before me, trying not to walk into the walls.

After what seems ages my hands finally reach something hard. I reach for the doorknob and open the door. A few seconds I'm dazzled but then I see a room full with people around a large wooden table. They are eating: the table is set and a delicious smell is hanging in the air. Suddenly I realise how hungry I am. I hadn't eaten anything for hours; I hear my stomach rumble. The people around the table didn't notice me entering. What do I have to say? I open my mouth.

"Hello." I hear how stupid it had sounded. Nobody seems to have heard it. Then my eyes meet the eyes of a tall boy with red hair.

"Hey! Who are you? How did you came in here?!" He sounds surprised and curious. Everybody turns their heads in my direction now. In contrary to the surprised and curious looks of most of the children around the table, the faces of the adults are showing bewilderment and, after a moment, also fear.

So suddenly that his chair turns over, a man is standing up and walking towards me. Everybody is following him with their eyes. He has long black hair and grey eyes which are the most fascinating eyes I've ever seen. Though I wonder what he is going to do with me, I see he is quite handsome. He stops.

"How did you came in here?" he asks. The expression on his face is difficult to see through.

"I... I... That man," I stammer, "that man... he... he helped me... he asked... he needs your help!" Finally I manage to say something useful "He asked me to get somebody... he asked for help!"

"Which man? Who do you mean, girl?" he has caught my shoulders with both hands while speaking.

"That man! How am I supposed to know who he is?" I cry "That man by the door! Go! He said I needed to be fast! You're wasting time!" He releases me and walks fast through the door.

Wavering I feel for the door-post. I almost fail but a woman grasps my arm and leads me to an empty chair.

"Here sit down dear. If I see it right you have been through a lot of things today. What is your name?"

I look at her. She had sounded like a mother. A real mother I mean, not somebody who pretends to be one like mine. She looked like a mother who cared, who loved, who hugs you when you need it. Not somebody who only says how it was at school everyday, and then not even listens to your answer because she was doing something else at the same time.

I know I can't blame her; she is busy with her work and with the housekeeping. It's all my fathers fault! Why had he hit her? Why couldn't he just do the things all other fathers are doing? If he just had loved her, just had loved us! Then he never had had to leave and my mother never had to do all those things alone! Tears are welling up in my eyes and I turn them away.

The woman is looking at me as though she cares, as though she loves me. How could that be? She didn't even know me! Even my mother had never looked at me that way... From far away I hear her voice repeating the question "What is your name?" Still keeping my eyes on the table I answer.

"Nika... My name is Nika." And then I can't stand it anymore. The first tears begin to glide over my cheek, slowly followed by more and more till my shoulders are shaking and I'm gasping for breath.

"Oh, poor girl, you must be exhausted, come here dear, come with me" and she hugged me, she hugged me like nobody ever hugged me before. And I cried...