The Riots

Part 1: You're A Witch

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She could feel her hands sweating as she cleaned her window, though that was probably due to the hot August weather. She always found cleaning with good weather and good music more enjoyable. No other way she'd rather have it.

She bopped her head to the music, quietly singing the lyrics to herself as she went. The music was probably really loud but she wasn't caring, it was summer for goodness sake! Let the kids have some fun.

She took a hand and wiped it on her shorts before running it through her tuggy hair. Having her hair down was always a hassle because it got in her way so often, but she refused to shorten it. It was perfect the way it was in her mind.

Dahlia faintly heard the front door open and shut again. She shook her head, figuring it was just the Roberts, her neighbours. Moving to straighten her bedsheets, she heard her mum shout her from downstairs.

"Are you sure you've got the right house?" Miss.Jackson asked the visitor, who apparently wasn't any of the Roberts.

"Oh I'm sure" it was a man, sounded elderly but had a kind tone.

"Hmm"she sounded unsure, almost suspicious.

Dahlia wiped her hands on her shorts and ran her hand through her hair again to make herself seem more presentable. As she walked into the living room, she saw the old man standing in front of the fireplace. He was dressed in the oddest of clothes, looked to be made in the 19th century almost. He peered at her over his half moon spectacles and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"Miss.Jackson," he smiled at her warmly. "Nice to finally meet you"

She respectfully shook his hand and gave him that 'British' smile before pulling away.

"I am Professor Dumbledore. I was wondering if you'd care to join me for a stroll in the park? Such a lovely day to do so."

Dahlia looked at her mother for confirmation. With receiving a slight head nod, she turned back to the Professor.

"That would be lovely." She hated speaking such ways, but she was brought up to have polite first impressions and knew her mother would scold her if she spoke otherwise.

They walked outside and along the road slightly to reach the small park, just the two of them. Dahlia was positive she had never seen the man in or around town before, and he certainly didn't sound like a local.

"If I'm being honest with you, Miss.Jackson, i was told you had a strong accent. Stronger than what is at the minute anyways."

"I've been told I'm not understandable when I talk normally, sir. Just trying to fit in." She looked up at the man and gave an awkward laugh.

"Fit in? Why fit in and be like everybody else when you can be yourself?"

She stared ahead quizzically, thinking over his words.

"Do you know why I'm here, Miss.Jackson?"

She shook her head and looked back up at him.

"Do you remember anything of your father, Miss.Jackson?"

Dahlia shrugged before wincing at her unmanneredly posture.

"Couldn't possibly sir. Never met my father. He left mum when he found out she was pregnant. Didn't want either of us I suppose. He hasn't had contact ever. His loss."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully before asking;
"Do you like it here?"

Dahlias face screwed up in confusion.
"What do you mean?"