Note: [photo] means photo above, I'll tell you when to play a video which will also be above, and sometimes you may need to swipe the pictures above to get to a certain photo or video. Thanks!
I ran and ran as far away as I possibly could. My father endlessly screaming my name in pure hatred as tears escaped my eyes. A stinging pain escaped my right arm as I saw the gash from the saw that he had slashed at me. Suddenly, I heard vicious growls as my father's Pitbulls, Edgar and Viper, chase after me, foam escaping their curled lips.
I ran with all the energy my body could exhale,
and struggled to take out my Floo Powder. I thought restlessly of a place I could go too, but nothing popped up. I ran into the bar, and plastered myself against the brick wall.
"Yes I heard The Burrow is housing Harry Potter yet again," a man with a straggly beard said.
His blonde friend nodded, "Yes, Its the most secluded area. How did you know?"
The first man spoke again, "I heard Mrs Molly Weasley talking about it in Diagon Alley a few days ago."
I looked around the corner and saw Edgar growling in my direction. They found me. I found the fireplace located behind the wooden counter and stood inside.
"The Burrow!" I screamed, and threw the Floo Powder. Before I knew it, I was transported.
I tumbled out of the fireplace with a huff. I looked around the place known as The Burrow and was greeted with a warm, homey feeling.
"Bloody hell!" A cute red head yelled, "Mum! We have a visitor!"
He looked down at me and frowned sadly, "You look hurt; here."
The boy offered out his hand. I hesitated but took it and was greeted with softness and warmth. He pulled me up and I quickly let go. Suddenly, I yelled out in pain and fell to the floor yet again. I looked at the source of the pain... my ankle. It was twisted in a unusual way, not anything like it was before.
"Oh dear! Ronald Bilius Weasley! Be a gentleman, pick her up and help her to the couch if you will." A frizzy red headed woman screeched as she saw me.
The boy, addressed as Ronald, widened his sparkling cerulean eyes and brushed his light red hair out of them. His freckled cheeks flushed over with pink tones. He bent down and picked me up bridal style and brought me over to a comfy looking sofa.
"Here you go." He placed me down with a huff.
The woman yelled up a tall staircase, "Ginny! Hermione! Get down here please!"
Two girls came trotting down the staircase in pure worry.
"Yes mum?" A girl with soft brown eyes and striking red hair asked with a slight accent.
"What is it, Mrs Weasley?" The other girl with fluffy brown hair and stunning brown eyes asked with a strong English accent.
"Please Hermione. Molly will do. Now, please help this poor girl." The woman asked.
I remembered that name, Molly Weasley. It was the one the two men were discussing at the bar a few minutes ago. Without them, I wouldn't have landed here in a place with warmth and friendliness.
The girl addressed as Hermione and the other girl- who Mrs Weasley had said earlier was Ginny- rushed over and looked at me. I knew I was a sight. My brilliant aqua-blue eyes were glazed over due to the lack of sleep I had gotten at home. My usually soft brown hair was course and knotted with dried mud and rocks. My face was bruised, scratched, and smudged with dirt and ash with deep cuts on my left cheek. My arms were covered with cuts and a now heavily bleeding gash across my right arm. My once blue jeans were ripped all over and a nasty shade of brown. My baggy white tshirt was cut up, dripping in folds and stained with the rubble of cement, dirt, and food stains. [photo]
