Disclaimer: I am not JK and I do not own Harry Potter. The following story was written for entertainment purposes only.

Janet Ferguson and Linda Delaney gazed out of the living room window to a house across the street that by all appearances was normal. Truly, there was nothing to watch but the rustling leaves in a great oak tree, but for them, this was the day's excitement.

"You know, I heard the girl that lives there killed her husband." Janet a rather staunch forty year old women remarked. Linda's gasped at the suggestion that a murderer lived nearby. Her mouth fell agape causing her long, thin face to appear even longer.

"Shouldn't she be in jail? I mean, you don't believe she could be dangerous, do you?" Linda questioned finding it difficult to force her lips to move after hearing such scandalous information from her friend.

"Supposedly, the police didn't even suspect her. She claimed that a madman murdered her husband in their very backyard." Janet emphatically pronounced the last few words creating an aura of mystery in the story. "Harold and I were discussing moving due to the recent events. This neighborhood is going down hill, I tell you." They continued to silently stare outside, waiting for the murderer to come out of hiding.

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The kitchen had always been her favorite room. Completely saturated in the color white, it felt as though one was walking on a cloud. It gave Aradia a sense of peace that seemed so difficult to come by these days. And cooking, that gave her a sense of purpose that had been gradually drifting away ever since the incident last year.

Aradia gathered her long, light brown hair into one thick strand. With the other hand, she tied her hair back with a rubber band so not to distract her while preparing dinner, dinner for one again. Though it occurred to her before that it was pointless to go through so much bother simply for herself, she still stayed with this task every night for her own sanity.

Taking a knife from the counter, she expertly sliced the juicy, red tomato on the cutting board. The continuous sound of chopping broke the perpetual silence in the air. It was almost as nice as having someone actually in the house with her, but not quite. At least it was better then having the company of some of her neighbors in her home. She spotted two, Mrs. Ferguson and Mrs. Delaney, standing at a window across the street. Could they possibly be spying on her? It wouldn't surprise her in the slightest.

If only Ben was here right now she wouldn't have to go through this. She wouldn't have to sustain the ugly stares and biting remarks of everyone that knew about his demise. She wouldn't have to wake up night after night in a sweat after having a dream about people she had never even met. She wouldn't have to deal with the severe migraines resulting from the accident or face ogling eyes when people noticed the scar on her forehead, the scar that many joked looked like something out of Harry Potter.

Bringing the knife to a height above her head, Aradia brought it down in one swift movement that halved the onion on her cutting board. Her deep blue-green eyes glared out the window in hatred. People had nothing better to do then to delve into the mundane life of another searching for non-existent slander. The anger bubbling inside from dealing with these intrusions was beginning to cause another headache.

Aradia lifted her fingers to the aching scar on her forehead and massaged it gently. Lately, her headaches had only worsened without reason. Not even the doctors, all the doctors and specialists she had seen, understood her perpetual problem. And, apparently, they couldn't cure an illness they didn't fully understand, or at least that's what she had perceived.

After a few minutes, the pain still had not subsided, so she decided to continue chopping her vegetables. When this task was completed, she added her vegetable assortment to a skillet with chicken. Waves of heat passed over her face as she began to stir around the mixture. It was almost as hot as grilling, which was what Ben had been doing that day, long ago. She stopped herself on this thought, holding the spatula rigidly above sizzling chicken. Each time she went back to that day, the day that still seemed so unreal, her mind blanked as though it wanted to forget.

Her head throbbed even more in response forcing her to drop the spatula as the new, intense pain emerged. She grabbed onto the counter to steady herself and shut her eyes tightly. An image briefly flashed in the darkness, three men outside a shop window conversing. Three men she didn't recognize. Opening her eyes, Aradia slowly made her way to the living room to sit down. The pain shot through her forehead again as though an invisible force was repeatedly stabbing her. She stumbled forward as a dizzy, airy feeling submerged her senses and closed her eyes again. Another picture, a blue spinning cloud in the sky, the three men looking upwards. Aradia held onto the door leading to the kitchen, her knees giving away taking her to the tiled floor. Pain, unbearable pain dove through her entire body originating from her forehead and then, there was only darkness.

A/N: This is my first attempt at a fanfic. If it does not sound exactly Harry Potterish right now, just wait it will get better. Please review! I would like to know what you think so I can improve this story. Thanks and enjoy!