Wolfsbane
Deaton was walking through the woods in the middle of the night. He was out on a hunt for a particular species of wolfsbane. One that only blooms on the night of the full moon. Hence, its name, white wolfsbane.
While he searched for the plant, he could feel the air ripple with excitement. It was as if the whole forest was holding its breath in anticipation of something big. The shift in the atmosphere led him to the place where the Nemeton once stood.
As he drew closer to the stump of the once great tree, Deaton could feel a crackling in the air. The area in front of him was slowly becoming distorted, like cracked fragments of a mirror.
Something was happening.
Then suddenly, lightning zapped the Nemeton stump causing a gust of wind and dust to explode. Deaton instinctively used his arms to shield his face. Soon the dust cleared, and Deaton dropped his hands.
In the middle of the tree stump, stood a young girl. She was in a white nightgown looking dazed. Surrounding her was a swirl of black ashes and blue electricity. Intuitively, Deaton knew the ashes were mountain ash and the blue energy was a sort of barrier that no supernatural could approach.
The girl turned to him and let out a gasp.
"Where am I?"
Before Deaton could respond, the girl passed out on the spot.