A loud crack echoed through the night as a man, perhaps in his late thirties, materialized out of seemingly nothing. He hobbled slightly on one leg, long strings of black hair rested against his face. He appeared rather alarmed and disoriented. After a quick look around, he dragged himself towards the small barn that lay toward the back of the property on which he had landed. Aside from the cacophony of insect songs, the night was still. The moon looked down on him with its full face, lighting his path, which he was grateful for. It was obvious that in his frenzy to escape, he had miscalculated his landing. He knew by his surroundings that his childhood home was at least two streets over. He wouldn't make it, not like this. His only choice for now was to seek shelter in the small barn whose doors he toppled through unintentionally. His head became dizzy and his body numb; he collapsed on the barn floor.
She saw him appear, the sponge in her hand splashing into the sink still filled with dishes waiting to be washed. They would remain there, waiting. She watched him hobble toward her barn, dark robes followed along the ground behind him. Knowing there was nothing of value or violence inside the barn, she waited just a moment before following him. She had noticed he was hobbling, likely injured. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, tousling it gently. Playing with her hair helped her think and she definitely needed a clear mind right now. She knew he had apparated into her yard and not simply appeared. She had read all about it in the few books about magic she was able to get her hands on. Mostly her grandmother would supply her with the books when she was lucky enough to get to spend time with her. She had attempted to learn even more when she had received her Hogwarts letter. After the delightful witch with soft eyes and glasses perched on the end of her nose, had come to their home and explained that Elsie was magical, her parents denied her admission. This knowledge, of course, only inflamed her curiosity.
She stared out the window; now seemed like the best time to investigate. She grabbed a large kitchen knife from the block as she made her way toward the back door. Though she wasn't particularly terrified, her heartbeat quickened in her chest. She hurried across the lawn, grateful that the moon shone so brightly tonight. She pressed her back to the rough wood that made up the side of the barn. She slid toward the door at the front, listening for any sound of movement. She heard nothing, just the insects enjoying the warmth of the summer night. With a deep breath, she swung her body into the doorway, knife held out in front of her. Her chest heaved with anxiety, her heart racing. Her shadow fell on his crumpled shape splayed across the floor. His long raven hair fell wild across his face, covering all of his features aside from his abnormally large nose. His right hand clutched his wand while his left seemed to have been used to cushion his fall, his head still resting on it. His robes and cloak were in a mass around him, covering most of the floor. She crouched down and gently tucked them towards his body so as not to step on them. She ran a gentle finger along his cheek, pushing the wispy strands of hair out of his face. He winced but did not wake. She ran her eyes over him, looking for any visible wounds. She didn't see any but she didn't feel comfortable inspecting under his robes.
There was a small cot stored in the corner. Swiftly and quietly as possible, she slid the cot underneath him as carefully as she could. Then she struggled to unhinge the legs that were folded underneath him, but after some frustration, the task was accomplished and with minimal jostling of him. She looked through a few of the boxes stacked precariously against the wall for a blanket. She hadn't been through the barn in a few years; she wasn't sure what was stored out there anymore. By the third box, she had found a blanket and a flashlight. She gently spread the blanket over him, tucking it carefully around his shoulders. He was tall, quite a bit taller than her from the looks of him. He had stubble on his chin and there were dark circles around his eyes. She wanted so badly to wake him and pelt him with questions, but it seemed he had been missing sleep for quite some time. He was handsome, and though his nose was large, it wasn't disproportionate to his face. She studied him quietly using the moonlight that flooded through the still-open door. He seemed somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place why. She had considered taking his wand, but decided against it. It was left resting in his hand.
Although she had never been allowed to attend the magical school or learn anything openly, she had learned enough. Her grandmother had been a witch, and she was ecstatic when she received her letter. She knew her grandfather had been a wizard, but he had died before she was born. Her grandmother had supplied her with books and any other knowledge she deemed necessary. If it had been up to her grandmother, she would have thrived in the magical world. Unfortunately, after denying her admission to Hogwarts, her parents greatly decreased the amount of time she spent with them. Her mother had known all along what her parents were, but when it came to her daughter, she despised the very idea. She wouldn't even try to comprehend. They had done their best to shut the window into that world completely.
She spent the next few hours digging through the memories that had been stored in no precise way in the haphazardly stacked boxes. Dust tickled her nose as she thumbed through old photo albums and clothes. If she sat still she was sure to fall asleep and she absolutely could not chance that. She had stared at the stranger for quite some time before she started rummaging and he hadn't stirred. She had watched the perpetual rise and fall of his chest and listened to his steady breathing. She wanted to be awake and ready when he finally came to. She had questions and she wanted answers. Finally, the moon gave way to the sun and beautiful pinks and yellows took over the sky. Bright warm sunlight flooded through the open door as she folded the flaps of the last box back into place. A great grunt came from behind her and she whipped around to see black eyes staring up at her, his wand drawn.
His vision was blurry, he could tell he was still in the barn but now he wasn't alone. A woman with long blonde hair and the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen had just turned to face him. From her denim jeans and t-shirt with a logo he didn't recognize, he assumed she was a muggle. He pointed his wand at her but had no intention of attacking. She had given him a bed and a blanket, she obviously meant him no harm.
If only he had waited to apparate. Just a few moments may have made all the difference in the outcome. In actuality, if he had waited just those mere seconds, he would likely have been killed. He heard her swallow hard, her eyes searching his. Dimensional blue against flat obsidian. If he felt so inclined he could search her thoughts, see what exactly she was thinking but he hated penetrating minds without consent. He always felt like an intruder in a sacred space. Instead, he lowered his wand just enough so that her shoulders relaxed and he could see she no longer felt immediately threatened. He wasn't sure how to press forward, he expected her to scream or run. Muggles often didn't know how to react to magic and he had just aimed a wand directly at her. Perhaps she thought it was a simple stick, thinking he wasn't in his right mind.
"I…" He began but she quickly cut him off, her voice smooth and unbothered.
"Do you have wounds that need bandages?" She asked. "I noticed you were limping but I didn't want to intrude and look under your robes."
He raked his eyes over her. Taking in her very beautiful features. Her olive skin, high cheekbones, plump lips, and freckles speckled over the bridge of her nose. All made more alluring by those deep blue eyes. Laps could be swam in them but you would never touch the bottom. He should be on high alert, there was a madman after him who had just regained power. During the gathering in the graveyard, he had let emotions slip jeopardizing the whole operation he and Dumbledore had been carefully executing. He remembered the fire that erupted in those reptilian eyes as realization tumbled into the foreground. Spells had flown from the surrounding Death Eaters, each aiming for a different part of him. He deflected several, sending them back at their casters but one had struck him directly in the lower back. Tingling waves traced his spine and ran along his appendages followed by deep gnawing pain. The Cruciatus curse coursed through him, twisting his very nerves into knots. He thought of his childhood home and fled, seemingly missing by quite a ways but his head wasn't in it at the time, he was lucky he hadn't splinched himself and that astonishingly he hadn't been pelted with a killing curse.
"No. I'm fine really." He uttered as he rose to his feet. He wouldn't admit it but he was appreciative of the fact she hadn't removed or rummaged through his robes. She looked up at him, he towered at least a foot above her, but she didn't seem intimidated. Her eyes never left his as he spoke. "Thank you for sheltering me, but I must take my leave now." His thoughts were flying in no certain order as to what might be taking place at Hogwarts. Where the Death Eaters had gone and where Voldemort might be now. Everything they had been working toward was now unfolding and it was all his fault. He stepped out of the barn and turned in the direction of his home, she followed closely behind. He squinted his eyes as he looked up into the morning sky. Gloomy clouds hung low and scattered, the sun illuminated the gray contrast from somewhere behind them. In the distance black lines of smoke billowed, tracing their way across the sky in a precise way. No less than four of them, from what he could tell. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, she saw them too. They watched as they descended in their direction, he placed a hand on his wand. The trails of smoke continued their descent but they did not land near them, instead there came a thunderous crash from about two streets over. The sounds of shattering glass and splintering wood rippled through the air. For a moment they both stood rooted to the spot. She was the first to move, running to what must have been the corner of the property. A small chain fence that had been taken over by vines for quite some time stopped them from going any further. She pointed, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. He followed the flow of her indication and through the chain fences, houses, and trees he saw his home crumble. His stomach dropped, the distaste he felt for the dwelling bubbling to the surface. He may have harbored resentment for the many things that happened in those walls but it didn't deserve to be demolished in such a way. He watched as the smoke lines continued to blast in and out, cackling laughter assaulted his eardrums. Fire could now be seen licking away at the wreckage. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back toward her home before they could be spotted.