CHAPTER FOUR • HELGA
Helga clasped the fire in her hands, drawing it closer to her body in an effort to keep warm. She wasn't fully in control of her fire powers, as sometimes they could go awry and set something alight, causing a huge fire.
She was in a damp forest, and would jump at the smallest of noises. Helga didn't know what she doing. She was scared and alone, and she was considering just giving herself up. If she did, she'd join the rest of her family – it was tempting.
She couldn't close her eyes without seeing their faces – her mother, father, and her grandmother – as they were dragged away from their family home. Helga knew that they were most likely already dead, her home burnt down. Everything that had once belonged to her would be gone in a second.
But she kept going. Somehow, in the forest, she felt like she couldn't be touched by the hands of the awful muggles. She felt safe, despite the constant fear at the back of her mind. She knew that no one would be able to reach her inside the forest, but there was a gnawing feeling of terror eating away at her, terror for her life. And sadness – her family had been slaughtered. She wasn't going to see them ever again. Their lives had been ripped away, torn from Helga as if her family were a piece of parchment. They could've been; they held on to each other throughout everything. But now they'd been scrunched and ripped apart, the jagged edges at Helga's heart.
Helga felt a soft touch on her shoulder, as if a leaf had brushed it. She turned her head, and smiled. A bird was perched there, cocking its head. Helga stroked its brown head lightly.
"Hello there, little one," she whispered, keeping her flame in view.
The bird whistled in return, rustling its feathers, as if getting comfortable.
"Come to say hello?" Helga asked. The bird provided company, something she'd been missing. She chuckled quietly. "I needed a hello, to be quite honest."
With a chirp, the bird nipped her cheek, then flew up into the leaves. She was now alone, but the forest was alive with whispers and whistles. The trees hummed at her as she passed them, and ferns waved. Helga breathed in deeply to calm herself, and smelt the forest's earthy perfume. This was where she belonged. This was where she felt safe, she realised.
Helga held her free hand in a cup shape, and a handful of water appeared. She quickly drank it, water appearing from her hand until she didn't need it. Replenished, she dried her hand and put out the fire, damping all light. In the darkness, Helga could just make out the tree trunks.
She felt alone without her family – they were her whole life. The muggles that had taken them away were evil, no doubt about that. But that was only a handful of them; her muggle neighbours had watched with fright for the family as the Hufflepuffs' were dragged away. Helga knew that muggles were just brainwashed by the monarchy, even though magic had saved them countless times. But they'd betrayed wizardkind, because of fear and misjudgment.
If Helga could, she'd look after every single person who was frightened, everyone who was scared. But that would be hard, seeing as the people in power were as scared of her as she was of them. She'd try though. She would try to make everyone feel safe, no matter who they were.
Exhausted, Helga leant against the tree trunk. Her dress was torn, her face red and covered in dirt. She breathed in deeply again, to calm herself down. The tree's energy rippled through her, easing her mind, and she closed her eyes.