The Marauders and the Girl Who Loved

The Beginning of the End

                                                                                                                                                             October 28, 1981

The sun drops below the horizon in shades of orange and midnight. Children rush home to beat the streetlamps. They've been out longer than they should. Curfew kicks in a few minutes. Dogs bark to be let back in and birds sing their final piece.

At the edge of town sits a cottage. A curious cottage, curious because no one is sure anyone lives there. Once in a while, there's a black dog in the yard but other than that no one ever emerges. No one.

A cloaked figure snaps out of thin air in front of the door. They look left to right as if they are being watched. They fidget with keys and open the door. They rush inside and slam the door shut. They pull something from their robes. A wand. With a whoosh, they lock the door behind them.

They patrol the house making sure every curtain is closed. Once the last curtain is closed they remove their cloak. A woman with black hair tilts her wand out and whispers,

"Lumos." A warm wisp of light emerges from the tip of her wand. She makes her way to the living room and lights a few candles. Can't be too careful they might know she's here.

"Nox," she says. The wisp dies from her wand. She makes a cuppa and plops onto the sofa.

She grabs the paper off the coffee table. The pictures move by magic. There's nothing new. More muggle-born attacks. More families torn apart by the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Creak. Creak. Creak. She's not alone.

The woman grabs her wand and whooshes it once again.

"Nox," she whispers. The candles extinguish themselves. She plunges herself into darkness.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Lumos." Her wand is now the only source of light.

She moves towards the stairs her back faces the locked door. The locked door that's deadbolt just unlocked itself. With her wand pointed toward the stairs when––boom! The front door bursts open and

"Flipiendo," a voice whispers and sends her face first towards the stairs.

A group of hooded figures loom in the doorway. Death Eaters. The rain began to pour outside. Lightning strikes and illuminates their figures. Two more appear at the top of the stairs.

One of them emerges from the front door. They remove their hood curly hair obscures her face. Her head tilts to the side as the corners of her mouth a deranged curve.

"Well if it isn't little, baby, Potter," she cackles, "but we're about to be family, aren't we?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange, what do I owe the pleasure?"

Bellatrix flicks her hair over her shoulder and points her wand in Potter's face. Her face giddy turns serious.

"Where are they?"

"Who?"

"Your brother and his little Mudblood! Where are they?"

One of the Death Eaters behind her strangles her into a chokehold. She struggles in their grip until they point their wand at her head. Where's her wand? She must have dropped it when she crashed into the stairs.

"Come now, Georgiana," Bellatrix taunts, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

The group of intruders advance as the door slams closed. The torrent of rain drowns out the screams erupting from within.