𝑨 𝑳𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑶𝒘𝒏 • 𝗙. 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘆

• 𝑴𝒓𝒔. 𝑭𝒊𝒈𝒈 •

The green flames faded and my vision cleared. I shivered slightly as the warmth surrounding me slipped away, it made me long to be enveloped by fluffy blankets and plush pillows, or a long warm hug. I thought about wrapping my arms around myself to make an attempt at getting warm, but not wanting to stand there like a fool, I picked my trunk back up and stepped out of the fireplace.

  As I looked around the house, studying the décor, I saw that the house was small. Two could live comfortably here, three at most. It was very neat, yet still cozy, and you could feel safe and happy in this place. A woman rounded the corner, she was most likely about the same age as my mother; however, she looked much older. Her skin was wrinkled and etched by time as opposed to Mama's smooth face with minimal wrinkles. She wore a pink, old fashioned dress, and when she spoke you could hear her years in her voice.

    "Oh come in dearest! Please make yourself at home." she bade me welcome with a warm smile and genuine glimmer in her eye. "Your mother wanted you to come early so you could get used to everything. Her and I are very good friends you know, ever since our girlhood at Hogwarts." She paused, like she was reminiscing times and memories long ago. Until she was drawn back to present with a jolt, "Oh but where are my manners! I'm Mrs. Figg dear. Lovely to meet you."

    "You as well, I'm Legacy." I introduced myself with a polite smile, "thank you for having me Mrs. Figg."

    "Oh nonsense child, when you're mother asked I didn't hesitate a second.
You're always welcome here!" This warmed my heart as it was a kindness not often found these days. "If you'd like to unpack, your room is the second door to the left just down the hall."

    "Thank you very much Mrs. Figg." I beamed, making my way to the room. It was a cozy space with elegant wallpaper and a twin bed in the corner. Placed on the duvet was a seemingly handmade patchwork quilt. I placed my trunk next to the bedside stand and looked around.

  On top of the dresser was two pictures. One was a pair of young girls in Hogwarts robes with yellow and black ties, they were grinning like madmen and each girl had an arm snaked around the others' shoulder. In the other picture was a large group of seven people. One boy with nice clothes who had black hair and a flirtatious yet witty grin; another with sandy brown hair, a shy look, and a scar across his right cheek; then a brown haired boy that I could tell had a confident, haughty aura about him. This boy was stood next to a green eyed girl with red hair and a gentle smile; next was a short, pudgy, rather unattractive boy with an anxious smile; followed the two girls from the previous photograph.

    Those were my friends from Hogwarts." A voice said from behind me, I spun around to see Mrs. Figg stood in the doorway. "The first picture is me and your mother, my best friend. The others were friends we used to help stir trouble around the school grounds." She chuckled fondly at the memories, only for the look to be replaced by melancholy.

   Eager to change the subject so she didn't have to think about whatever happened to her old friends, I asked, "Mrs. Figg, is there anyone in the neighborhood about my age I could hang out with, so I can get used to being the only American?" I nervously joked, hoping to relieve tension.

   "Oh yes, there is a boy at Number 4, his name is Harry. I think you two have some things in common." She winked as if she knew something. "Go on and say hello, don't forget your wand dear."

   "Thank you." I nodded with a smile, and made my way out of the house and into the street.

Searching for Number 4, which was a few houses down, I walked up the driveway and to the front door. I decided it would be a good thing to conceal my wand, and get my incredibly long hair out of my face. So with a few quick movements, my wand secured my hair in a knot at the bottom of my head. I stepped up to the door, drew my courage, and knocked.

  A few seconds later the door opened and stood there was a middle-aged woman with a pretty red summer dress that flattered her figure. Her voice however, was anything but flattering, it was snotty and clearly annoyed.

   "Can I help you?" She drawled in a very much British accent. Here we go...

  "Good afternoon ma'am, my name is Legacy Parker, I'm staying with Mrs. Figg at the moment and she said there was a boy here I could make friends with?" I said very politely, waiting for her to point out my noticeable American-ness, not to mention my mismatched eyes. It took her a minute to respond as I expect she was still processing me.

   "Oh I suppose she was talking about my Duddy-kins." she beamed, but her face quickly fell when I corrected her.

  "I apologize miss, she said his name was Harry, do I have the wrong house?"

  "No, wait here." she stated very monotone, grumbling about 'some American freak'. She closed the door but I could still hear her scream the boys name. A minute later, the door opened again and I was met with a confused, bespectacled boy with a lightning-shaped scar.

"Do I know you?"

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Hey guys! I'm really sorry these first few chapters are so short. I'll spare the excuses and just tell you the longer and better chapters are coming very soon!

Thank you again for all the support! I love you