The Hope Of It All | Harry Potter

CHP 1 : THE BEGINNING

   Mom's funeral was a quite affair, which was fitting, since she lived a quite life.

   She never shouted, even when I most definitely crossed lines, she was quite about her past, she was quite about her work and about her friends- if she even had any. None of them came to say a final goodbye, so my guess is she was a quite and lonely teenager. None of her family came, but I know for certain it is because she had none. Maybe that's why she married dad- he had a loud family -five brothers after all. Her silence was filled with his gentle chatter about his last sculpture or painting or about the animals and plants he saw while walking Bentley.

   That's just how dad was, and that's exactly how I was. When you grow up with silence you learn to fill in the blanks yourself.

   But I was quite today. It's not that anyone talked really, plus the rain was making it difficult to hear the priest as they lowered her. And just like that. It took less then two hours and all the secrets she never told me were buried deep with her. She probably would have liked that.

   Dad didn't speak much these days. I know he loved mom just as much as I did. I could see him slowly making his way to the car. I know mom would've wanted him to move on, but I really didn't see it happening. And by the way he was lighting his cigerret I knew he wanted to be alone. Good. I didn't want to go to our house. It felt too big for three people and now...

   I always did wonder why they chose such a large home if I never had any brothers. Dad's workshop was painted in pastels with little bears. I never asked- I learned at the age of ten that you never ask such questions, when Abby asked Miss Eliot in third grade why she didn't have children and she burst into tears.

   I started making the long way back home. The weather slowly turned humid and warm, as if trying to choke me with the pain of it all. The cars blurred my left vision as I looked at the old buildings of London on the right. How do you deal? How do you cope? Was I supposed to walk the street of my city as if nothing had changed?

   Getting lost in the maze of corners and one way streets occupied my time as the sun fell and the bright moon took its place. My mind wondering more than me even though I should have gotten home hours ago, but I just couldn't. One step, two steps, three steps.

   Wait.

   I was at a dead end street. And there was someone blocking my way.

   I tried lowering my sight down, hands clenched in my pockets, quick paced steps towards the figure and the light.

   The figure moved suddenly towards me and I held my breath and took a step back.

   "Where is she?"

   He had a deep voice, and a smooth one at that. I was terrified. His face was covered by an iron mask with elaborate designs but I could make out pale blue eyes.

   "Wha-a- I don't- who are yo-

   "Don't play coy, I know you know" he took out something from his pocket. Was he going to kill me? I wasn't going to stay to find out. Launching quickly to the side I rolled around him before he could react and sprinted into the crowded street. Shoving people, I parted my way as far away from the danger as possible. My side was burning, my empty stomach making me almost vomit. I had to run, had to get away. I took a sharp corner into a deserted street and knew I made a mistake.

   He was there. But how?

   The knife from before was in his hand and he was pointing it at me. The sweat on my face turned cold and I started hearing buzzing.