A HariPo fanfic
Note: Yes, J.K. Rowling's charries in another tsubaki fanfic…anywho. There are plenty of original charries of my own, such as Petra Stromm, the hero of this story, but I think we can all identify who's canon and who's not, so you get the picture. Well, let's begin –and don't forget to REVIEW!!!
One: In Which We Receive the Foundations for the Reasons Behind Petra's Escape
A howl broke through the clear night. It was the sort of bone-chilling cry that rattled one's bones, from skull to the phalanges in the feet and back up again. Other sounds filled the night –the usual cricket chirps, rustling bushes, and tip-taps of a pebble skipping the gravel road after being kicked along by a person wearing ratty old sneakers –each taking on an eerie quality after the frightening howl.
The owner –ten-year-old Petra Stromm –of the ratty sneakers paused in her nighttime walk. She adjusted her backpack and pulled her sweatshirt around her more tightly. Though it was barely September, the chilly wind felt like a gust of gaseous ice, it was so cold. Petra tucked her chin into her turtleneck's collar, a weary baby duck nuzzling its feathers for a bit of warmth. However, her surroundings forced her gaze upward.
It was a black abyss, the night. Night surrounded Petra in his darkness, blotting out any sign of other life, waiting for her to take another step into his blacker and blacker mouth. The few stars in the sky were the night's teeth, ready to close her in the obsidian confinement for eternity. Suddenly, Petra recalled her infantile fear of the dark.
A twig or branch snapped behind her. Petra froze. How could she have been so stupid to run away at night? On her birthday eve, no less. September fourth would be September fifth soon, Petra could feel it, but an eleven-year-old was of no more use than a ten-year-old. The child wished she had her parents with her –but then she remembered why she had run away. Daddy had been so nice even though he didn't share the same powers Petra and Mommy did, but Mommy seemed as if she hated the Petra was like her. "Half-blood," Mommy had spat so many times, and it had felt like Mommy was getting worse with every day that approached Petra's eleventh birthday.
This time Petra heard soft footsteps padding behind her. Her fear constricted her movement, but she didn't know what to do even if she could move. The footsteps were so close that she was unsure she could run away in time. Finally, Petra swallowed and turned around as the local church's bell struck midnight. She was eleven at last; she was a big girl now.
"Lumos!" The ensuing blast of light blinded Petra for a moment. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she couldn't help but stare at the two people before her: The man was middle-aged with auburn hair and a matching auburn beard, and he wore an orange-polka-dotted purple suit; the woman looked a little younger, but her ice-blonde hair was pulled away from her face in a severe ponytail, and her dress, jacket, and boots all seemed a little tight for someone her age. However, what drew Petra's attention the most was the stick the man held –its tip was the source of light. The man locked his blue eyes with Petra's watery, ochre ones. "Petra Linalia Addsey Stromm?" he asked. Petra couldn't help nod in response, and the man smiled. "Good evening, Miss Stromm. I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. My friend here is Xaquise Mauvere, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Is your mother or father near?"
Numbly, Petra shook her head, and Dumbledore's words seemed to catch up with her. "Witchcraft?" she repeated. "Wizardry? But those things don't…" Her voice left her as the scary night faded into nothing but background, scenery.
"They do exist," Mauvere corrected. "I'm a witch, Al here's a wizard, and you are a witch as well, m'dear."
"That can't be!" Petra stated. "My dad can't-!!" And she halted, realizing that there was a name for what she and Mommy could do. "Th-That's…magic?" she croaked.
Dumbledore observed her, an owl watching its prey. "You and your mother do things your father cannot, correct?"
Petra pursed her lips, thinking. "Well… We move things with a thought or command. Snap our fingers and what we want happens." Her eyes lit up as she realized her talent had to be magic. "I can even light fires and create sparks with my eyes!!" she exclaimed excitedly.
It didn't go unnoticed that Dumbledore's and Mauvere's eyes widened a bit at the last statement, but Dumbledore smiled. "I am pleased to say that you have a home at Hogwarts, Miss Stromm, as you are a witch," he commented as Petra lifted his stick with her eyes, "but you must learn to harness your power and learn the laws of the magical community."
The eleven-year-old nearly jumped, her brown bob bouncing around her cheeks. "There're more like me –I mean, us?!"
"Yes," the wizard answered," but muggles –those without magic –may not learn of us. We have to keep it a secret, Miss Stromm."
Mauvere held out a hand, which softened her marble statue demeanor. "C'mon, Petra. If we go talk to your mum and dad, then you can come to Hogwarts tonight."
Petra ran to Mauvere and led the witch and wizard straight to her house. The night wasn't as terrifying anymore with the promise of a new school –one full of people like her –shining like a light, a beacon, at the end of the tunnel. Another howl tore through the night but Petra only thought of it as a whistle, and she called sparks forth to light her path. The mouth of night closed, and the funhouse of opportunity and possibility awaited Petra's arrival.
Yay! Let an epic begin!! Would you believe I submitted this first chapter as a composition for English class and it got me an A+? WOOT, FANFICTION!!! Okay, now that that's out of my system, please await the tales of Petra's life, because they will be good and juicy –AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!