My mom and I were sitting on a blanket on the floor, eating some cold beans out of a can for supper (we didn't have a table or chairs, because we couldn't afford them. Our microwave broke last week, and the repair bill would have put us on the streets). I had just come home from school a little while earlier, and my mom was always interested in my school life, because she believed that education was the key to success, and that if I did well enough, I could leave this hl hole.
"So, how was school today, honey?"
"It was okay." I answered. "We had a fire drill, and everyone was freezing outside, especially me and the other girls in our kilts. It was -30 degrees celcius today! I don't know why I have to go to a catholic school. The uniforms are so impractical." My mother gave me a stern look and went through the same explanation she had told me hundreds of times before.
"I send you to the catholic school, because it's located in the better part of the city. It's a lot safer there. Just last week, a girl who attends the public school was mugged and raped by a gang member. I love you and don't want that to happen to you. You should finish your beans, I'm not sure we'll be able to eat anything else for a while sweetheart." I rolled my eyes at her, but was secretely glad that my mother cared so much about me. A clean, sober, loving mother was not the norm in my area. I was just about to shove another spoonful of raw beans in my mouth when we heard a knock at the door. Immediately, my mother jumped into action. She ordered me to go hide under our bed in the other room (our apartment had three rooms total. The living room/kitchen, the bathroom, and one bedroom where my mom and I shared a twin size bed). She grabbed the biggest knife in the kitchen, and ran to the door, preparing to attack any mugger or rapist who should be on the other side. I know to you this may seem ridiculous, but for my mother and I, along with everyone else in our area, this was a common practice. From under our creaking mattress, I could hear her fling open the door, let out a cry of surprise, and drop the knife onto the floor with a clatter. My heart stopped. What if whoever it was had hurt her? I was about to jump out from under my hiding place to help my mom, when I heard her speak. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"ALBUS! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed. Huh, I thought. Who was Albus? My curiosity got the better of me, and I cautiously got out from under the mattress, and walked into the room where my mom and this "Albus" guy were. I saw him, and my jaw dropped.
This was the WEIRDEST man I had ever seen in my life! He had long, silvery hair that reached way below his waist, with calming blue eyes and half-moon spectacles. He wore something like a robe that reached almost to the floor. It was decorated with sparkling stars and moons, and he had a pointed hat to match the rest of his attire. Beneath his robes, I could see scaly-looking pointed boots, and he looked so old, and yet so full of life at the same time. I also noticed that his nose looked crooked, like it had been broken many years ago, and somehow never healed quite right. When he looked up and saw me, and as politely as if we were drinking tea in a cottage together, said "Why hello, Ashleigh. My, you have grown! I trust you are well?", I think I jumped about four feet into the air. He chuckled, and said to my mom, "Quite a jumpy one, isn't she?" My mother nodded in agreement, and held out her hand to me.
"Ashleigh, this is Albus Dumbledore. He's a friend of mine. Why don't you sit down on the floor with us. There's a lot of things we need to tell you."