Choices: Part 1

Chapter 3

I take in what feels like the deepest breath of my life and the urge of vomit makes me cover my mouth. I hunch over, trying to force the vomit back down my throat as my vision stops spinning.

"Ah, yes. This sometimes happens."

I look up to see Professor Fig perfectly as ease, giving me a kind smile. I give him a dirty look before looking back down, trying to take deep breaths. After a few moments, the nausea wears off and I stand back up straight. I gasp. We are standing in front of a huge manor, in the middle of a gravel driveway. The manor is a dark grey, a perfect rectangle, with windows on every floor, and a black tiled roof. Huge, stone stairs lead up to the massive black front door. I almost give myself whiplash as I look around us. We are surrounded by nothing but lush green fields with woods way far out in the distance.

"Where are we?!" I gasp as I follow Professor Fig up the stairs.

"My wife's old family home in France." Professor Fig states.

"France?!" I squeak. Professor Fig glances over his shoulder, looking at me with pity again.

"Come, let's have some tea and I'll answer any questions you may have."

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I feel like I am almost in a daze, sitting by the fire as Professor Fig pours each of us a cup of tea in small, flowery decorated cups. The house inside is beautiful, with lush red carpets and huge artwork pieces. The sitting room we are is so much pink and yellow that it hurts my eyes. I sit on a decorated pink couch as Professor Fig sits on a matching seat across from me. He gives me a small smile and motions me with his hand to start. I set the fragile cup down and cup my hands in my lap. Where do I even start?! A million questions run through my mind, but which is more important? Asking how the hell I traveled not only through time but countries or the simple fact that somehow magic exists? I bite my tongue, debating. Professor Fig stays quiet, relaxing against the chair as to wait for me to start talking. I take a deep breath.

"What did you mean by when we were safe?" I ask.

Professor Fig waves his hand as if dismissing my question as unimportant. "Nothing, just wanted to make sure no Muggles overheard us."

"And the hell is a Muggle?" I demand.

"Non magical folk, of course." He simply states as if obvious.

"Non magical – oh man." I start to feel dizzy and I grab my head.

"Are you quite alright, Miss O'Dooling?" He asks, concerned. I shake my head.

"Yes, no, I don't know!" I snap.

I groan and hold my head as I hunch over my lap. Professor Fig says my name again, but I don't respond. I take a couple of deep breaths before looking back up at him.

"I don't think I am the girl you met a couple of weeks ago." I finally say.

Professor Fig raises an eyebrow. "Oh?" is all he says. I take another deep breath.

"I know this going to sound crazy, like really, really crazy, but I only just...arrived...here when I woke up this morning." At this Professor leans forward on his knees.

"Please continue." My hands fidget in my lap and I close my eyes as I ramble off my whole story.

"I am not from here. Or even this year. I wasn't born until 1995. I grew up in America. I don't know what I am doing here. I was just a regular girl on her way to school and...I think...I got hit by something like a car and I woke up at that orphanage and I have no memory of this Erin's life, but somehow, we have the same name and had a similar incident and now magic exists? I don't know what's going on!"