The Attempt
Sets between the sixth and seventh book
The kid came in crying, his golden blond hair disheveled and wet. His mother followed behind, calming him down. How old was he? Five, maybe, but he looked amusingly tough to be so small. The nurses came rushing towards him, bringing their arms out for a hug. The kid was holding his arm, which had a bone sticking out. Another broken arm; I had dealt with enough of them already, having to do surgery with the high-tech equipment of M.D Anderson hospital in Houston.
I quickly walked away, feeling the espresso from about 10:00 PM wear off. "Michelle, come here, I need you to examine the boy and discharge him fast." Crap, I thought about running away, but I'd probably get fired. Dr. Malcolm gave me a clipboard and the boy had to go into surgery at 11:00 and was given a cast at 1:00 , which then I learned that he fell off his bike, but wanted to try to ride his bike again. At 1:30, he was released and I could go home. The smell of my red mini cooper was making me happy as I sleepily drove home. My street in southwest Houston was dark as usual, but creepily quiet.
I pulled up into my driveway, happy that my roommate was here, her black Toyota Corolla S seeming almost empty, no trash or anything. Man, Fran cleaned again. I've noticed over the months than Fran was a cleaning freak, which benefited me because she would clean when she got home from her job as a pediatrician. I came out into the garage, shutting my door and locking it. Fran's show was on, but noone was in front of it. Hmmm, that's funny, Fran would never miss Lost for a million bucks. I opened the backdoor as the mysterious sounds of Lost came through to me.
"Hello?" I asked. No response. I walked up the stairs thinking she was asleep. My bedroom light at the end of the dark hall was on. I looked at my shoes, and saw a drop of blood. I was starting to get scared. Calling my roommates name, I walked slowly down the hall.What I saw when I got into the room made me scream.
Fran's Italian body was strewn on the bed, with her throat slit and blood staining the sheets red. Her normally brown hair was a comic red, and she had some sort of magic wand next to her. I ran to check her pulse, and her blood was still flowing. It was a fresh cut. I quickly ran toward the door, hoping the killer wasn't still in the house. When I got to the stairs, a hooded man was at the landing. He ran toward me, seeming to glide up the stairs. I ran into the guest bedroom, the killer at my heels. I went into the closet, frozen with fear. The door was locked shut. He banged on the door, and I felt something grab my shoulder. The knife was white hot, searing into my leg, impairing me to walk. Blood flowed from the wound and as he raised his wand, there was a flash of green light…
About 2000 miles away, Hedwig flew in to Harry's window, skwaking and waking him up from his deep sleep. "What's the matter girl?' Harry asked, untying the letter strapped to her ankle. Still having some sort of seizure, Hedwing planted her feet next to the food bowl, and Harry reluctantly gave it to her. Ron came running inwearing his pajamas. "Whatever is the matter," he asked. "Oh, Hedwig just came in," Harry replied. "She's gone mental, I swear," Ron exclaimed, heading back down the hall. "Wait Ron, the letter's adressed to both of us!" They both started to read the letter.
Hello boys, I see here that you have both failed Potions and the History of Magic Classes. Therefore, there is a summer school being set up for anyone who failed their classes. Extra curricular classes will be set up for anyone who would like them, that means that Herminonie could come if she would like. Best wishes,
McGonagall