The early morning sunshine illuminated the quiet household where the little orphan girl had lived with her foster parents. When she had awakened to find her foster parents savagely murdered, she bounded down the stairs to eat her breakfast before she would make a run for it.
After eating her breakfast in the eerie silence of the room, the mature little four year old decided that she needed to leave before she was caught at the scene of the crime– her home.
On the shelf, that was affectionately called the "magic shelf" by her foster parents, rested a small, beaded bag. She gently touched it, making sure it wouldn't bite her, and then swiftly grabbed it and a few books that looked promising. She walked to the destroyed couch, set the heavy books down, and opened the bag in which she then proceeded to stuff the books into it.
She decided to grab her foster mother's wand in the bedroom upstairs; so she quickly grabbed it, avoiding the dead woman's glazed eyes, and went into the closet for a jacket or two. She looked through the closet again after picking out the jackets, knowing this was the last time she would see the clothes she played dress up in.
The good memories would be all she had left. It didn't take her long to figure out that there was something dark and sinister happening in the Wizarding World, the place she had known about because of her foster parents' enthusiasm for magic.
When she was about to leave the bedroom, a mirror had caught her eye. She went to look at her tiny self, all too knowing that her once excited chocolate brown eyes had lost their excitement; and her brown hair with the gold highlights from the sun would wither for what she would know to be a long trip.
She ventured back into the kitchen after heading downstairs to grab her favorite treats from the fridge and a few utensils for the food. Once she was satisfied, she plopped everything in her bag, not knowing what the consequences of the food exploding on impact would do to the clothes.
She pushed through the broken glass and broken picture frames that lined the front hall as she made her way to the door, when suddenly a burly, old, rather overweight man had popped out from nowhere.
"Hello, Potter." He spat her last name, which she had forgotten about until he said it. She would have said hello back if he wasn't so scary with his mean expression and sickening, yellow-toothed grin.
Barbara knew the burly, fat man was bad news, and tried to run away. However, he picked her up, put her underneath his underarm, and apparated to where the worst part of her life would take place.
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The next chapter involves violence. If you do not want to read it, skip it. If you do read it and complain, know that I warned you here and it's your own fault for reading it :)
Xoxo