Just For Me, The Church Bells Rang

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight

In my white Sunday dress, sitting in the golden field. I had a play-wand, quite popular with all the little girls my age, not that I knew any. The only one other magical child I knew was a little boy with dark hair and cunning eyes, named Blaise Zambini.

My play-wand could lift little leaves, make small objects turn color, but nothing real. Blaise came up with a real wand (his fathers), through the tall, yellow grass, and pointed it at me with his familiar grin, smart eyes glinting.

"Where did you get that?" I asked him.

"It's mine," he answered, still pointing it at me. I was getting scared because I knew all too well how, even at that age, he could be impulsive and irrational, and do very stupid things without regret. I was worried, as anyone would be, that he could very well cast a terrible or scarring spell on me. And what if no one were even able to take it off. "Why are you wearing a dress today?" When I wore a dress I couldn't play, and he knew that. Normally I was your regular tomboy, with scruffy pants, fighting all the other muggle boys and getting muddy.

"It's Sunday," I answered. "I was at chapel and I have to see my grandma this afternoon."

"You should be a boy. Boys never wear dresses." He pointed the wand at me and my eyes widened. Would he turn me into a boy? I felt a definite change, but it was only around my head. My head felt lighter. Had he made me disappear? I put a hand up to my head and knew it had to be around the same size, but my hair was short. My long golden curls, the picture of childhood innocence, had been taken from me. I now had short curls, and later I realized they were the same color as his. Tomboy though I was my hair was something I'd always been so proud of, as my mother brushed it for hours each night she would tell me it was beautiful, like me. I started to cry, and I cried and cried. I turned and started to run but a spell hit me and I fell. My leg hurt enormously and though he could see I was hurt he didn't apologize. He turned and ran away, leaving me behind.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.