Cynthia sat on the plush dark blue couch looking regretfully down at her coffee table. Her chin pressed into the palm of her hand as her arm rested on her knee. There in front of her lay the cracked black rimmed glasses she'd found on her walk home. The young woman had no doubt, these were probably James'.

Unfortunately the damage had rendered the pair unusable. Even if the carefully tempered glass was replaced, the rim was bent awkwardly raising one of the temples so it wouldn't fit over the ear properly. At this point there wasn't much use for them, probably best to just chuck them in the bin.

The young girl let out a small sigh. She's heard how costly a pair of glasses could be to replace. Cynthia lifted the glasses up carefully. Closing one eye she peeked through a relatively small undamaged part of one lens. The world she saw beyond the little window was heavily magnified and distorted. She scowled, setting the object down again. James' eyesight was atrocious! She hoped the curly haired man had a spare set to use in the meantime.

Cynthia grew ever more grateful that she didn't need such things to aid her. How different life must be when constantly seeing everything through two small windows.

The girl's thoughts halted as her stomach growled loudly. Glancing down at her watch she caught the time. It was indeed nearly noon. No wonder her body had cried out for sustenance.

Pushing up from the couch the woman chasséd into her small kitchen to prepare something. Cynthia tied her hair back as she moved forward. Grabbing the apron that had been tossed haphazardly on the counter she threw in on, tying it behind her as she came to stand before the counter that held her radio. The girl flicked it on, letting the easy disco rhythm fill the kitchen. The girl smiled widely, instantly recognizing the song as 'Ring My Bell', the perfect song to get her going.

She quickly began rummaging through the fridge fishing out a few ingredients as the song played. The young woman couldn't help singing along to the repetitive and suggestive lyrics, knowing her Aunt and Uncle would hardly approve. She continued on, letting one song after the next play out. She lightly sang along to each one she knew, keeping the volume low enough to not bother anyone outside her small oasis.

Before long, Cynthia sat herself down with a loaded ham and cheese sandwich and a cup of tea. She let the energetic music play in the background as she mulled over her own thoughts.

During the summer, her uncle often joked that her sandwiches were more like salads stuffed between two slices of bread.

'Too much fluff.' He'd say. 'We didn't have these fancy fillings in my day.' Not that that stopped him from asking her to make him one every time she had gone in to fix one for herself. The man would rest himself on an old rocking chair looking out the window at the summer countryside, only to look up and see her munching on a sandwich.

'Where's mine?' He'd say in a huff, one she knew was simply for show. Heaven forbid he actually admit he likes or wants something, the old fart.

The young lady smiled fondly at the memory. She truly needed to go visit, or perhaps they could pop in here? He might be able to get some time off from that private school, it was a holiday and it wasn't that far of a trip. They hadn't come over in ages. No doubt her uncle would complain about having to trudge his way here, but just like always he would just be acting 'tough', as her aunt called it. The woman had no qualms putting his odd and distant actions into words to show how deeply he truly cared, something Cynthia was grateful for.

The young woman hoped things would work out so she could see her family soon. It was hard having her uncle work during the school year. He basically lived at the school, only coming home on occasion looking weary from his work. It was nice, however, to enjoy the entire summer off with him during her childhood. They didn't do much together other than a small game of chess here or there, mostly they just talked. They talked about everything. Well, she talked and he listened.

Her aunt would sometimes be able to squeeze a story or two out of him, usually revolving around some terrible prank he'd been caught up in recently and the bratty children who were responsible. He kept the details to a minimum, but boy did he like to complain. He seemed, at least to Cynthia, to not like the children at his school. As a young girl, she had often wondered why that was.

Cynthia's thoughts were interrupted as the music ended, marking the start of the noon newscast from the local broadcast station. Realizing she had finished eating whilst lost in her own thoughts the girl began picking up her dishes and set about washing them, as well as the ones from breakfast.

"Good Afternoon Listeners! The time is now twelve-o-one and you're listening to Little Ivywood Radio. We are coming to you live with the latest in both news and music. The heavy rain from last night is but a far and distant memory as the sun shines down on us this nippy April day.

Luckily the sun is going to be with us a few more days, lingering with us till about mid-day Wednesday, when you can expect more showers raining down in classic spring fashion. We suggest you all take the radio outside and enjoy the sun while it lasts. That said, remember a nice sweater, the last thing any of us need is to catch a cold during the Easter Holiday.

In other news, we have been asked to remind everyone to be on the lookout for suspicious activity.

Several incidents of arson happened across the country last night. Most resulted in only small fires, while others were far more serious. Several families have been lost, leaving only large clouds of billowing black smoke hanging above their homes. There is no current information on who has caused the incidents, but we will keep you updated. Again we ask anyone with information about the strange occurrences to contact their local officials. Thank you.

On a happier note, we have a guest here today. Everybody help me give a warm welcome to…"

Cynthia cut the radio off. She stared at the device with a somber frown, pulling her wet hand back to herself. With a tristful sigh she turned her head away from the device. Looking down, the girl watched the murky water swirl down the drain and out of sight. The girl held a hand tightly to her chest, relieved once again that she hadn't been hurt last night. She had been lucky. Very lucky apparently, unlike some others.

Those poor people.

Her heart went out to them. The girl didn't even want to imagine how she would feel if it had been her aunt and uncle, or how they might have felt if it had been her who had passed on. Cynthia hadn't dealt with death much. She couldn't even remember going to a funeral ever in her life, odd as it was. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't have to any time soon.

Pushing away from the kitchen, the woman drew herself back onto the couch, draping the fuzzy throw blanket she had there across her legs. Cynthia had been practically helpless last night. Sure, she had sensed the trouble. The strange monster of a person had practically broadcast his nefarious intent directly into her mind, but all she could do was run. Even James had told her just that.

'If you ever see men like those… Run. Don't stay and fight. Just run.' His words echoed in her mind.

Cynthia let out a regretful sigh.

The woman reasoned that Sirius and James were probably working against these arsonists or at least knew more than she did about them. As much as she wanted to do more, what could she possibly do?

If running was all those boys thought she could do, then she needed to learn to run better. A lot better! The young woman smiled at a mental image of herself running circles around those two boys, reveling in their red panting faces. She chuckled lightly at the thought, allowing it to soothe her nerves. There was no point worrying about things she couldn't do anything about.

Feeling somewhat relieved, Cynthia looked around the room once more, remembering the list of things she had mentally set for herself to do today. Her shoulders fell slightly. It was the first day of holiday, did she really want to start spring cleaning now? Her eyes drifted down to the small collection of books resting on the coffee table. She saw the book James had been looking at the night before, suddenly very grateful he hadn't had his glasses on him to properly see what the book had been.

The woman reached out for the book, a small romance novel seemed like such a better way to spend the afternoon. The book was just waiting to be read, almost begging if she really thought about it. A coy smile bloomed on her face accompanied by a flutter of excited butterflies taking flight in her heart at the thought of starting the book.

Without needing another reason, Cynthia nested herself comfortably on the couch, snuggling into the blanket and flicking open the book. Perhaps she'd just read for a little while, she needed to digest her lunch after all.

As it turns out, a 'little while' became the entire afternoon, who might have surmised? Cynthia was nearly done with the small book, though she did have to pause thrice during her reading. Once to relieve herself, once to dip into her snack reserves, and once more to turn on the lights as the sun had begun to set. The woman was fervently enjoying the story, pushing to try and finish it. Even opting to eat some crisps instead of preparing a proper dinner for herself, reasoning that she would make something later. She only had a little ways left to go when she heard a scuffle coming from outside her door.

Cynthia felt her heart skip a beat. She looked up from the page with a small frown. The noise continued, but it wasn't quite loud enough to be a person. Tentatively she set the book down, marking her place with a stray receipt laying on the table. Making her way toward the door she heard the unmistakable sound of a cat hissing outside. The hissing soon turned into angry yowling, followed by yet another scuffle. Making sure the swinging bar latch on her door was secure, the girl slowly opened her door peeking through the crack into the hallway.

She caught sight of a dusty colored cat causing a scene in the hallway. The creature hissed menacingly at something small beyond her vision. Perhaps another animal or something, she couldn't quite tell. The girl closed her eyes, willing herself to focus. To her immense pleasure, she felt no pain as she did so.

Opening her eyes, Cynthia continued to focus her mind. Instantly she noted that this animal was glowing in an ugly mustard yellow hue. The color alone shocked her. That wasn't normal. Its emotions were clear to read, almost like those of a human. For some reason the creature was feeling cautious and distrustful of what it had found. But the oddities didn't stop there. There was something else about this cat, a soft hum of energy was slowly pulsing off its body.

Cynthia couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips as the realization hit her. This animal was covered in the same type of energy she'd sensed last light, the one James had pulled her out of the way of. Instead of the energy coming towards her at full speed, it was coating the small creature like a second skin hovering a few inches away from its actual body.

Before the girl could think about it anymore the cat reacted to her presence. The cat, startled by her sudden appearance, suddenly turned towards her letting out a vile hiss. It arched its back high glaring at her with its large yellow orbs. Before she could do anything to placate the furball it turned, letting out another equally angry hiss at the object of its concern. With an angry flick of its tail, the cat leapt away into the night leaving Cynthia alone.

Cynthia furrowed her brow, momentarily wishing the animal had stayed so she could get a closer look at the strange energy around it. Then again, it was such a feisty little thing, she didn't want to get scratched. With a small shrug the girl let her focus slip, there wasn't anything to look at anymore. She went to close her door and return to her book, only to see a small odd looking envelope resting outside her door on the floor. There wasn't supposed to be any post on Sunday.

If her brow could crease deeper, they would have. Just when she had started to relax, she just had to see this. Honestly, she could just leave it there and collect it tomorrow. Cynthia considered it seriously, but her curiosity won out. The woman let out a small sigh at her own immaturity. Carefully she unlocked the door and reached out for the small parcel.

She didn't look at it though, opting to bring it inside to examine it. Closing the door behind her, locked the door once more. Stepping away she flipped the odd letter over finding her name 'Cynthia Edith Jenkins' scrawled out in immaculate cursive.


There we go.

Another chapter Done and Dusted!

I hope you enjoyed it.

I'll see you lot next week!

((All rights to Harry Potter Belong to J. K. Rowling))