HEATHENS - Harry Potter ✔

CHAPTER ONE

Kiera had received for Christmas six years ago on the window sill. It had grown a lot and was now curled around the window frame, its liveliness contrasting oddly against the dingy room. The door was on the back wall which held nothing else.

There were a few photographs stuck to the wall above her bed; her parents' wedding photo, one of her as a newborn held by her mother at St Mungo's with her father standing next to them, one in which she was swinging being pushed by her mother as her father took it, and the one taken on her sixth birthday. These were the only photos she had recovered before being sent to the adoption system. There were also two Wizarding photos on the wall; this was known as they, unlike the other ones, were moving. Beside them, a poster of a dragon.

It was three in the morning and everyone at number Nine, Hartley road was asleep. Well, they had been about ten minutes ago but night disturbances as the Robinsons household were no rarity that summer, because Kiera Walker kept having bad dreams.

Still lost in her dream, she turned over in her bed. The duvet fell off her body, knotting up at her feet. "No ... no, don't ..." she mumbled. "No please!"

Her eyes moved rapidly behind her eyelids and her legs became more tied up in her sheets.

"Run! You need to run..." Her muttering became louder and clearer with every word. "He killed Diggory. Run ... Run or he'll kill you too – NO!"

Kiera screamed. He didn't hear her, nobody seemed to hear her. Not the incoherent words and phrases she was mumbling nor the yelling. Harry Potter in the graveyard did not hear her screaming in her bed, tossing and turning and tied up in her duvet. Nobody in the dream could hear her, but the entire house of number Nine certainly did.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall and bouncing back. A woman with greying hair and an angry scowl stomped to the bed, grabbing Kiera by the shoulders. "Wake up!" she yelled. "WAKE UP!"

The woman kept shaking Kiera until she finally gasped like she had been drowning and her blue eyes opened wide. Kiera barely had time to register the migraine that was burning in her skull, or the fact that she even was awake, until she felt a strong slap on her cheek, her head twisting to the side, a stinging red handprint on her skin.

"What are you doing?" Mrs Robinson yelled, her hawk-like eyes narrowing. Kiera tried to pull away or cower back, but the grip Mrs Robinson had on her shoulders was so tight that she could barely move half an inch. "Enough of your nightmares! Are you trying to wake up the whole house? Screaming like you saw the devil himself all summer."

Kiera opened her mouth but said nothing. Her hair was stuck to her forehead from the sweat and she was shivering. Time was still going too quickly; she could barely process what was being said to her.

"Don't bother coming down for breakfast," Mrs Robinson said as she turned around. Only now did Kiera become aware of the small group of people that had huddled on the narrow stairs that led up to her attic room; all the other children had woken up too and they wanted to take a look at her odd behaviour like she was an animal in a zoo. "Off to bed, all of you," Mrs Robinson snapped angrily as they craned their necks to see into the room.

"It's not our fault the bloody freak woke us up!" said Sienna in protest, adding an irritated "Again!" to emphasise that she was a victim in this situation.

Sienna was a year older than Kiera and she had been adopted by the Robinsons. They had always liked her, and so she usually got whatever she wanted, but that night Mrs Robinson did not seem in the mood for too much special treatment because she told Sienna to go back to bed along with everyone else. The girl huffed in annoyance but once everyone else, including Mrs Robinson had exited the room and walked down the small staircase, she retreated – though not without giving Kiera a dirty look and slamming the door shut first.