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Rated: E · Fiction · Fanfiction · #1978664
Lyria's Grandfather is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts.
Rain hammered the ground, slicing through the air like a knife cutting vegetables. Tall trees loomed over me, their branched bare and broken. The cold, winters air nipped at the ends of my frozen fingers. My hair stuck to my rosy red cheeks, soaked with water and messily brushed with the wind. My bobble hat sat on the top of my head, a dark navy blue colour. My long socks were faded and wet, along with my sneakers and skirt. I wore a matter skirt, stopping just above my knees. As the find danced around, it lifted my skirt (obviously to my dislike.) A ripped army coat fell over my shoulders and, again, stopped just above my knees and a blood stained, long-sleeved white T-shirt covered my torso.



Through the darkness of the night, the tall castle stood staring at me. Its walls were glowing, light from the moon bouncing off the bricks. Bright light was coming from the windows, small figures wandering past them every now and again.

The winds through me about, making my small legs wobble. My energy was running low, feet falling forwards every now and again. I tried to keep my balance but, being the unlucky one I am, I fell into the soggy ground. Mud rubbed into my clothes, making my T-shirt become even more stained and dirty. Again, I numbed my thoughts and pushed my figure off the round and towards the castle once again.



The hair became harder, falling and hitting my body more violently. I'm pretty sure I looked almost ghost like, I would surely scare everyone. I can't just not go; I've been walking for almost two weeks now. Besides, if I didn't go to the safety this castle held, they would most definitely find me.

My mud covered bag stopped at my knees and, as I edged closer to the caste, I drew my wand from my knee long, navy blue socks. Odd place to hide a wand? I know, I've been told more than once. Then, stuffing my hand into my bag, I pulled out my geek-like glasses. Placing them onto my face, my vision became almost completely clear (if the rain droplets weren't making the lenses blurry, I would have been able to see perfectly.)



My sneakers sunk into the mud, sliding and slipping around like it was an ice skating rink. A strong stench of salt fought its way through my senses and, before I knew it, I was met by a lake curling its way around the caste. I sighed, falling to my bum on the ground. I've came all this way, a bloody bit of water isn't going to stop me.



Whipping out my wand, I let my mind wonder through all the spells I had manage to remember. Quickly muttering a charm, a bit of wood turned into a small, one man boat appeared on the water. With my long, dirty blonde hair falling down my back in a messy knot, I sunk into the boat and paddled through the waters. Light reflected off the water, making it easier to see my way through the blackness this night brought. Sure enough, the little light I had was enough to help me to the other side and onto the island the caste was sitting on.



My hopes rose as I climbed up the towering stairs and into the castle grounds. It was beautiful, just like my grandfather had described it to be. It was old, but in an enchanting way. I was in a courtyard, eventually, and in front of me stood two grand doors, looking about three times the size of myself at least. Placing my hands over the carved wood, I pushed. The doors creaked; rain making it's was inside and landing onto the concrete floor. I pulled my satchel back onto my shoulder, pushed my hat from my eyes (it now heavy with water) and stepped inside the great walls of the castle.



After a whole two weeks of wishing, I was finally here and it seemed to be hitting me more and more every passing second, I was now safe. Closing the door behind me, I may have done a small happy jump. Then, sending my tummy rumbling, the smell of freshly baked cottage pie (my grandfather's favourite) came into me like an army. A smile spread across my feature at the thought of my grandfather and I wondered forwards. I couldn't see anyone; the halls were completely silent, apart from my echoing footsteps. Mumbling a few words to myself, I pulled my bag strap up again as it started to fall.



As I continued to wonder, two doors came into my view. Loud voices were echoing through the solid wood, laughter and chat mainly. Taking in deep breathes, I pushed them open. They scratched against the floor, loudly. I looked around the room, sucking in a mass of air as thousands of wondering eyes turned towards me. Obviously, I opened the door louder than intended to.

Many boys and girls, dressed in long, black robes looked at me with curious eyes. They were sat at four, hardwood tables, plates over loaded with food and piles of breads, meats and, not surprisingly, cottage pie decorating the table tops (all on their own plates and stands, of course.) They whispered, pointing fingers at me and looking weirdly to their friends. Even without looking at me, I knew I was an interesting sight. I just stood, emotionless, looking around the room. I almost left, I almost turned and ran. Almost.



"Lyria?" His old voice boomed and that's when I saw him, sat at the top of the hall, his glasses sat at the tip of his nose. Pushing my glasses up, I sighed so loudly.



"Grandfather," It was a mere whisper, my lips shaking from not only embarrassment, but thankfulness. He was here; he was going to protect me. "I missed you." This came out louder as I edged closer. His frame stood up, knocking back the chair and stepping forward. No one spoke, no one moved. It was as if time had frozen, that is until my Grandfather broke it.



"My darling girl, I've missed you so much more." His voice was horse, like always. He began to come walking towards me and, with the last energy I had left, I let my feet slap against the concrete floor and legs charge closer to him. Running, I was full on pushing myself into his arms. It was like one of those cheesy moments, where they run to each other and reunite, but I don't care; I really don't.



"Oh my god." I whispered, throwing my arms around my Grandfather's neck. His long, grey bread tickled the top of my forehead, but I didn't care. I was safe.



"Welcome to Hogwarts, Lyria." His arm slipped around my shoulders. I probably looked disgusting, my hair was matted and wet, along with my clothes, and my makeup had, not doubtably, ran down my face like the speed of lightning out in that rain. "Professor McGonagall, would you mind escorting Lyria to your office and cleaning her up? She looks awfully tired."



***

Haiiii, so I'm new to this site and, let's be honest, I have no idea how to work it...



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