Saige Walker didn't see her wand as her fate when she first got it from Ollivanders when she was eleven. She just saw it as her ticket to hogwarts, her ticket into the world her parents and older brother had been living in for years. Little did she...
Flames swirled everywhere. Dark flames, light flames, flames that burned so bright that my eyes watered looking at them. I threw my hands into the air as the flames crackled at my sides, but they didn't burn. I glared at Voldemort, who was batting the licking flames to the side. Lucius was gaping behind a small, steaming, wall of pathetic water. I grinned.
"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MESS WITH MY LIFE YOU PIECES OF SHIT!" I screamed at willed the flames to rise. Voldemort finally regained his composer and started to cast a spell, but there was no way in the rotting pits of hell I was going to let him win. So, when his curses came flying at me, I parried with spells he probably didn't know. My mind was opened to a world of magic; magic that most wizards didn't know existed. My hands were glowing with power as I imagined what I wanted them to do. Flames grew higher, illuminating my face and blowing my hair around my head. My braid snapped behind me as it flew around. Voldemort threw curse after curse at me, but I threw them right back. Flashes of red light, tendrils of darkness, explosions of silver mist poised to burn and maim. I walked forward, my flames billowing around me as I broke though Voldemort's curses as if they were paper. I threw out a leg and kicked him in the chest, sending the spawn of Satan flying back. I strutted forward and placed my boot on his neck. I looked him right in the scarlet eye.
"Mess with my life again and you will regret ever being born. I swear on my life you will rot in hell." I whispered lethally, and then kicked him in the face. Voldemort spat black blood. I backed up and narrowed my eyes. "See again never," I said, then snapped my fingers. All of the flames winked out. With one more snap, I pulled my best trick, dissolving into a cloud of black mist.
The look on Voldemort's face made it all worth it.
When I reaapeared from my odd travel trick I had taught myself over the weeks of learning dark magic I stumbled and fell to the wet grass on which I was standing on. My energy was gone, my breathing came hard and fast. I had forgotten how much energy my magic took up when I was preforming powerful spells. As I sat panting on the grass I looked up at the clear night sky, wondering where I was. I hadn't been thinking after I dissipated myself. I tried to stand up, but my legs were shaky and unsteady. I took a deep breath. The air fogged in front of my mouth.
After I had worked up enough energy to stand up from the grass I was kneeling in, I walked down the sidewalks to find I was in a small town's park. I saw no immediate danger, but I sure as hell wouldn't let my guard down. As I walked slowly down the quiet streets I rubbed my arms to keep from shivering. It was cold for summer. My black tank top I was wearing didn't do much to keep me warm.
It wasn't until I walked past a tiny tourist shop that I noticed I was near my hometown. I was in Albertville, just 10 minutes from my house. My house. For the first time I felt a compelling need to visit my old home. I snuck into the tourist shop and grabbed a map, then locked it back up and started down the road to the freeway. I didn't really care I was stealing; they didn't need that exact map.
Not many cars were on the freeway, but I still stayed in the shadows. After about 20 minutes of fast walking I turned down onto my road with a still heart. Another 3 minutes I was standing at the gate of my old home. My mind was empty.
Finally convincing myself to not be a wimp, I hopped over the gate and walked towards the door. I placed my hand on the door nob and imagined the lock turning, and a second later I was in. My blood was ice. My home.
Everything was the same, but yet it was all so different. The Christmas tree still stood, healthy and decorated. My father had put a regeneration spell on it, so it wouldn't die. I walked silently though the house and touched one of the ornaments on it, my heart filling with melancholy. I turned my face away from the tree and waved my hand at the light switch, illuminating the hundreds of LED lights on the tree. Warn light flooded the room. I walked silently though the kitchen, waving my hands at the dirty dishes and cleaned up the area. After a few minutes, all of the dishes were put away, and I disposed of all of the rotten food in our fridge.
After I left the kitchen I stood in the empty hallway, the images of my parent's bodies sprawled across the floor flashing painfully behind my eyes. I grit my teeth and forced my body to climb up the stairs to the bedrooms. I first walked into Sam's.
His guitar was still sitting gathering dust in the corner, and his spell books were sprawled out from the last time I had been there. Tears rolled slowly down my cheeks as I picked up a photo of my first day at Hogwarts with him. How could someone so good have a fate so horrible?
I sunk to the ground and leaned against his bed as my eyes silently streamed tears. I closed my eyes and tried to stop shaking.
After another few minutes of silently mourning my brother, I stood shakily and walked into my room. Everything was still the same. My bed was shoved against the wall by the window, its dark blue sheets covered in a thin layer of dust. My books were stacked neatly on my floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, their spines coated in dust as well. My old guitar was on its stand in the opposite corner of the room, next to my dresser. Something inside my burned.
I decided that I might as well take what I need from my house for now. I knew one day I would return to live here, but for now I needed to get out. I grabbed an old backpack and cast another Undetectable Extension Charm on it, then started to shove my clothes and possessions, even my bed sheets. When I had nearly packed my entire room, the backpack didn't weight more than one large book. I stuffed the remainder of my things into the backpack then walked into my brother's room and grabbed another backpack and did the same thing. After I had stuffed his room, I shoved the second backpack into the first, and still it didn't weigh anymore than a few pounds. I love magic.
When I set the backpack down on the floor of my mostly empty room I wandered though the house into my parents room. I didn't want to take much of their stuff, but I did grab the family photos from their dresser, and my mom's jewelry box. After I shut the door to their room and stuffed the rest of the things into my insane endless bag, I set it by the stairs and looked up at the attic steps. Images from the night flashed in my eyes.
I placed a shaking hand on the rail, telling myself that I had to face my fears. I slowly climbed up, my footsteps creaking the floorboards. I finally reached the top and took in the splintered desk that had hide my brother and I. I flicked a hand at the light and the small bulb flickered on. The attic was covered in cobwebs but I ignored them as I walked between boxes and pieces of old furniture. I really should clean it out sometime. But not now.
After my heart decided it didn't want to be crushed, I turned off the light and walked down the stairs and out of my house, locking it up behind me. With the small black bag on my shoulder and an old hoodie pulled over my head, I walked back into the dead of night.
Back into the world.
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