So young, So damaged

Lost Again

A/N: I know I haven't been focused on writing but I finally am done with my job and have time to write during school. Though this isn't my priority, it is at the top 5 of my list. We are going to be reaching 1 year of this story in December, and I hope to finish it before that.

I am thankful for all of you who have stayed with me from the start.

Now onto the chapter! And please don't forget to vote!

I love you all! <3 -CM

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September 1st, 1996

Juniper's POV

"Professor." I stood behind the old grey man as he seemed to be admiring the young witches and wizards trying to climb onto Hagrid.

The man turned around swiftly, looking down at me with a wrinkly smile. "Come walk with me, child."

I obeyed and walked alongside the wizard. His long robes dragged on the floor as his beard swayed along with his long hair.

My heart was beating quickly, I could hear it and I didn't know if he could too.

Why does he want to talk to me?
Did I do something?
Does he know something?

"Professor, may I ask why you called for me?" I kept my eyes forward, somewhat afraid to make eye contact with the man.

"I'm sure you know, there are many things to be discussed." I gulped at his comment.

He must know.
How can he say that and not know?

We walked a corner of a building and suddenly we were walking around a corner in Hogwarts, somehow magic still amazes me.

He led me to his office as the first years were getting situated and the others were fixing their dorms.

I sat in the leather chair of his room, it was warm and welcoming, something I wasn't used to. I sat stiff in the chair, waiting for the unexpected.

"Professor, I was wondering if we can start. Dinner is starting soon and I wouldn't want to miss any of the first years sortings." I said to him with a smile, hoping that this excuse would fasten things up.

"Ah yes. As you know, news travels fast here in the magical world, and I am so sorry for your lost, child." He looked at me with pity, leaning towards me with a bow of his head.

I hummed at his words.

"How are you and your mother?" I mentally roll my eyes at the question, I'm tired of being asked these questions.

These questions took a lot of energy to answer. Every time I get asked these questions, the memories come flooding back. It's painful and it doesn't help the healing process.

I toughen up and put on a front, hoping that it would get me out of here. "Thank you. Mum and I are getting through it, it's not easy but we have been good."

I lie and I hope he cannot tell that I am lying.

"Good good. It mustn't been easy, mourning takes a long time; even years." He said with a slight shade of his head.

I tried not to show any weaknesses, I didn't want the man to comfort me by lending me his lemon candies that sat on the corner of his desk. I just nodded to what he was saying, I just wanted to get out.

But I feel comfortable.
Do I really want to go back to the group so quickly?

"I know there are some words being spread around by your fellow peers, about you and who you associate yourself with."