Stranger

Chapter 6 - It's Time

PRESENT

Goblet of Fire

"Three up, Two across."

Violet sat at her table, closing yet another book she had devoured, its pages now a bit crinkled from her eager fingers. She lifted her gaze from the words and walked to the window, feeling the familiar pull of the outside world.

Through the glass, she watched as a stream of children raced out into the street, their laughter ringing like chimes in the crisp autumn air. She felt an ache in her chest, an emptiness that reminded her of all that she had lost. 'Some voids cannot be filled', she thought, a mantra she recited every time she caught sight of their carefree joy. She couldn't bring herself to join them. The weight of her past kept her tethered to this spot.

As she studied the scene, she noticed the edges of the window beginning to fog, a sign that autumn had firmly arrived. Slowly, she traced her fingers along the condensation, each droplet a fleeting memory. The day she received her Hogwarts letter felt like a lifetime ago, and yet, the excitement and disbelief washed over her anew.

It's been four years.

In those years, she had grown—not just in age, but in height and wisdom. Countless hours had slipped away as she buried herself in books, studying every inch of the wizarding world. She learned of Pure-Blood families and their deep-seated disdain for Muggles and Muggle-borns, memorizing every last name, yet one name remained elusive: Whitmore. No matter how tirelessly she searched or how many scrolls she poured over, she found nothing about her own lineage.

The truth felt like a riddle waiting to be solved, and she knew that the only place she might uncover its secrets was Hogwarts.

And it was time.

Time to return to the place where she could finally piece together her family's history, where she could embrace the magic she had longed for, and perhaps, discover who she truly was.

.

Violet snapped out of the thoughts that had consumed her once again and quickly made her way to lunch.

"There you are." Dahlia, Violet's current caretaker spoke up, seeing as the girl walked down the stairs. "My dear, you look pale, when's the last time you left your room?" She looked at the girl, giving her a worried look.

"I'm fine. I open my window for fresh air when in need." Violet calmed her. Her voice sounded monotonous, but Dahlia had gotten used to it.

Violet rarely left her room. You could see her from time to time either walking to the bathroom or sneaking off to the roof where she'd enjoy her time under the shiny night sky. She loved sneaking out unnoticed, in fact, she had gotten very good at it over the years.

"You seem to burry yourself in those books too much." Dahlia sat down across the table from Violet. "Why do you keep them locked up in that suitcase of yours?" She questioned the girl.

"I don't like people going through my things." Violet shortly answered, rushing to finish her meal and get back to her room as soon as possible.

Dahlia sat quietly across from Violet, her gaze soft, filled with a pity that Violet could feel crawling beneath her skin. It enraged her in a way she couldn't explain, though the anger wasn't just at Dahlia—it was at the situation, at the helplessness she felt in moments like this. Every act of kindness Dahlia offered, every small gesture, felt like a mirror reflecting all the parts of herself Violet wasn't ready to face. It made her feel wrong, out of place, as if kindness was something she no longer deserved.