The Muggle in St Mungo's

NOTE: The version of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince released by J K Rowling was made and published for the protection of real people. Her account of what really happened in certain events and characters has been altered for the saftey and consealment of the person mentioned in this story. Therefore her last name in my recount has been changed. But her story is far too great to go unoticed, as i believe what she has done for my family and i should be honoured. Here is the real story, the real relationships, the real reasons. The story that you have known up until now has been warped, as the revelation of the real identity of Scarlett could be catastophic. So let Scarlett be in the prayers of us all. -Ginny.

characters, theme, and everything that can be held against me is in property of J K Rowling.

Chapter One: A Rather Dingy and Strange Place to Meet Your Future.

Scarlett drowsily became aware of a very early morning light filtering its way through her gently closed eyelids. For a second she lay there in bed, eyes screwed shut against the unwelcome light, waiting for the intruder of her room to identify themselves. But all that answered were the sound of feet shuffling softly around the bedside table where her glasses were always kept.

Next a second pair of feet entered the room. In fact, make that two pairs of feet entering her room. Heck, Scarlett thought, make that three! What was this? My bedroom wasn't a meeting place for my lousy fosters now, was it? She turned over and pulled the cotton sheets over her head, as a most peculiar sent of mothballs and grandma went flying up Scarlett's nose. She gave a loud groan, for not only did she think that it was insane that the entire family was all in her room at this ungodly hour, but a bolt of pain seared its way her leg and began to twitch so violently that she sat up far too quickly in bed. The first mistake:

Something hard and strong hit Scarlett square between the eyes and sent her mind dancing with stars. What moron hung a...hung a what? What was it that sent my already confused brain into a larger muddle? Scarlett opened her eyes far too quickly, and spent the next few seconds blinking wildly into a room that was not hers at all.

All of her senses came alive to register what was happening before her eyes. From what blurry outlines Scarlett could make without her glasses, she guessed that she was in a hospital. Sounds of muffled concern now filled the room, as a man and a woman stood by what seemed to be another bed opposite hers. If this is a hospital, my parents do not love me enough. What a dingy ward, she thought, as the only window in the room was narrow and set high in the wall besides a man with blazing red hair. Scarlett fiddled around between the sheets to find her glasses, as it was her first priority if she were going to make any sense of the scene unfolding before her.

Fast footsteps retreated as she rouse, and the source of what gave her the now rapidly growing lump on her head sat no more than one inch from her nose. It was, to be quite plain, a glowing globe hovering in mid air. The globe drifted from its position in front of Scarlett upwards to the ceiling, bouncing genitally before gliding its way into the centre of the room to join its mates in a larger glowing mass that did the job of lighting the sad little room.

Scarlett leaned off the bed to her right, scarcely balancing between the bedside tables in an attempt to find her glasses. A smooth familiar object touched her outreached hand. Sliding them onto her face Scarlett began another fit of blinking to adjust her eyes, just to make sure that what she was hearing and seeing were true. She was startled, not by the fact she was wearing an emerald green hospital gown, or that there seemed to be something wrong with her leg-since there were numerous bandages securing it- or that fact that her family was nowhere to be seen.

It was, in fact a hand. A hand outstretched in front of her, seemingly the hand that had offered Scarlett the glasses. Following the hand, she found a boy’s face starting down at her.

Piercing green eyes look with curiosity back at my own hazel stare, as the boy quickly took back his hand. The boy had a thin face, with a pair of glasses of his own, and his hair was extremely untidy with gave him a slight windswept look. The boy's brown hair parted on his forehead to reveal the most unusual scar to what she had ever seen, as it was shaped to what could only be described as a lightning bolt.