Ineffable | Remus Lupin

II

The door slammed shut, violently shaking in its frame as the young girl slid her back down to sit on the floor. Her almost white hair masked her face as she pulled her knees up to her chest.

Ingrid Temple was moving again.

She couldn't handle it. Every two or three months, she would be told she couldn't stay in that particular home anymore and that she was being relocated.

Every single children's home the girl was moved to, she was put into mandatory sessions with psychologists and behavioural therapists to try and pinpoint what was wrong. Every time, without fail, they found nothing. When this happened, Ingrid was inevitably moved onto the next orphanage to see if they could do any better.

This resulted in seven long years of experimentation and loneliness. Seven long years Ingrid was poked and prodded like a hamster in a lab and yet they all wondered why she didn't enjoy the company of others.

But this was it.

Ingrid had officially reached the end of the line. Finally, she was moving back to the foster home where she had begun her long journey at eight years old. For Ingrid, this only meant one thing. She had officially gone all around the country and nobody could help.

She wasn't even sure what was wrong with her, let alone why they insisted she needed fixing. Of course, Ingrid was well aware of the peculiar things she could do but she always kept that well hidden from everyone else. All Ingrid knew was that the other children thought she was a freak and the adults seemed terrified of her.

Ingrid lay on the floor of her room, intently pressing her ear against the floor to listen through the wood.
Someone had arrived, she'd heard the doorbell ring. Sometimes she felt as though she were the only person in the world that could hear, it was like the walls of the house were paper thin.

Throughout the building, the irritating noise of children screaming and laughing and shouting could be heard. Yet Ingrid closed her eyes to focus on the conversation being had, out of view, by the front door.

Some sort of Professor had arrived.

"Yes, she's just up here. She doesn't particularly like company, though, I should warn you." Mrs Pennicoat whispered outside as she showed the visitor up the stairs.

Ingrid leapt to her feet, she knew Mrs Pennicoat - the woman who ran the children's home - was scared of her. Pennicoat didn't allow visitors, let alone a professor that she didn't know. Besides, what would a professor know about Ingrid?

Ingrid paced back and forth, for some reason she couldn't hear the professor. There was silence before a quiet knock on the door echoed throughout the room.

She froze for a second, not completely sure of what stood on the other side of the door. It was unusual for Ingrid to be unsure. She always seemed to know what people were thinking, she always knew who was coming to visit before they entered the room, she always knew how people were feeling without saying or showing anything. Maybe that was why she scared everyone - she knew things about them that they tried to hide.

"Miss Temple, is it?"

A tall man with a long grey beard and twinkling eyes stepped into the room. He wore vibrant purple robes and a crooked hat and half-moon spectacles precariously placed on the heightened bridge of his nose.

"I believe so." Ingrid replied tentatively, stepping away from the man and towards the other side of her room.

"We've been looking for you for a long time." He spoke, straightening out his clothes and glancing around the room. The man's eyes fell on the plain bed, bland walls and overall spotless look. Had it not been for the fact that a child stood in the room, he probably wouldn't have noticed it was a child's room at all.