London, England 1991
Never imagining better, it grew dark as though it was going to rain, though no clouds have shown. Horses trotted past the town, kids were just heading in bed, and the lamps of light illuminated the streets. Expecting at the least, it did rain, shuddering down onto the small village. Darrah (DAR-uh) Gordor (GORE-durr), a young girl of eleven years old, just finished brushing her shoulder length, curly brown hair and headed to bed. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. The moonlight illuminated her fair skin, making it seem pure white. In 4 hours time, it was going to be her birthday, Darrah gulped. Time flew by quickly, it felt as if she were six one year ago. She turned around on her stomach and tapped the head board of her bed. If she heard correctly, a few voices of people were faint, Darrah perked up to the sound, looking out the window.
"Look, I recieved a letter from one of the magic schools around the world." A boy said loud enough for the person next to him to hear, but not loud enough for the whole entire town to hear. An umbrella was above his head and he was clutching onto a piece of parchment. Another person, who looked to be the boy's big sister, looked down at him, was holding the umbrella.
"Let's go tell Mum and Dad, once we go home." She responded joyfully. "They'll be so happy to hear this!"
Darrah flopped back down onto her bed. Picking up one of the books she had on her desk, she opened it up, her eyes wandering across the page. She wondered of she'd get into a magic school, she was silly to thought of it. She loved living here, though she'd love a new environment. Drifting into thoughts of sort, her eyes fluttered into sleep. Darrah's breathing became slow and her body went limp, only small snorings of sleep could be heard.
None the less, a loud thump erupted in her room. Darrah sat up and looked around the room, no shadow in sight. Hearing the loud thunder of rain, she looked at the clock on her nightstand and it read: 3:50 AM.
Remembering the loud noise that startled her awake she bellowed out, "Who's there?" She got out of bed, throwing the sheets off of her. Another thump invaded the small room and Darrah decided to dig under her bed to look for a bat.
Holding it up, she exclaimed, "Please, come out! I don't want to hurt you!" Darrah stuttered in fear, her back against the wall.
A pale brown owl, hovered in front of her, a scroll in its latch. Darrah, by this sudden surprise, put the bat down and took the wrinkled paper. Taking off, the owl flew away out the window, reading through the scroll, Darrah's eyes grew wide. "A Hogwarts letter?" She whispered, sitting down on her bed. She has heard many stories of Hogwarts: School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, though she has never thought of going there. Kids would get chosen to attend seven years there, learning magic spells, potions, and others. Darrah never intended that she'd get chosen, though she's muggle-born and many would get judged for that blood type. Then that's when she remembered it was her birthday, her twelfth. Carefully slipping the scroll into her pocket, she decided to go see her mother, who was working in her at-home office.
Quietly opening her bedroom door, she made her way to ber mother's s quarters and knocked. Miss Gordor creaked open her door and looked down.
"Darrah, why aren't you in bed?" She let her in the office and let her sit down.
She took the scroll out of her pocket and put it on the table. Miss Gordor's eyes narrowed to read the parchment on her desk and her eyes popped in astonishment. "Darrah, this is good news. We'll set you up right away." She rolled up the scroll and noticed her daughter's plain face. "Now, what's wrong?" Confused, Miss Gordor put her hand on the smaller girl's shoulder.
Darrah looked up at the her mother and shrugged. "What if I don't fit into Hogwarts? Like, what if I don't feel like I belong there?"
Miss Gordor smiled reassuringly and let out, "Hogwarts is where you want to be. THIS is where you want to be." After hearing these worlds, Darrah half grinned and took the scroll and stuck it into her pocket.
"Well then, the next morning you can go around the town for supplies. And happy birthday, love," Gordor opened the door, kissing her daughter on the head but motioned her to get back to bed.
_
Scurrying around the town, Darrah went in and out of shops, pawn stores, and other resources trying to gather the supplies she needed for Hogwarts. With the list in her hands, she crossed out everything she had already, but now all she needed was a wand and a pet.
Looking through the names of all the stores, she finally hurried into one, closing the door behind her. Darrah made her way over to the store owner.
"Good day, sir. Hope you doing fantastic! Anywho, I am here to request a wand for Hogwarts." She rushed her words and looked around.
"Well, well. My name is Mr. Ollivander. " He replied grimly, taking out a velevet colored box. "Try some of these out. The wand will match with you based on its character." Opening the box, there were many wands. Some shiny, some wooden, and others with sorts of colors.
Darrah picked up a wand and raised an eyebrow. She looked at the Ollivander and just waved the wand from place to place, nothing coming out of it. "Why isn't anything coming out, aren't all wands supposed to some sort of magic like....'SUMMON FROGS'?!" Dramatically waving her wand around a few sparks lit up from the wand, blowing onto her face. Darrah waved her hand, trying to blow excess smoke away.
Mr. Ollivander closed the box and put it back and replied dryly, "That's an Elm wand, or more known as an Ulmus wand. 12 1/2 inches to be exact, really fascinating choice. If the wand shows some sort of magic, you are the wielder. That will be your wand during your course at Hogwarts, wands like yours suit muggle-borns."
Darrah stuck the wand into the side of her big, brown mail bag pocket and nodded. "Thanks for the service." She was about to open the door, but stopped in her tracks. "Is there anyway where an owl, a cat or a toad could be located in this store?" She looked back at the store owner.
_
Hurling around a big cage with a Northern white-faced owl in it, Darrah made it to her stop.
Platform 9 3/4.
Before she headed off to the train station, she waved goodbye to her mother, aunts, and grandparents who were standing on the sidewalk.
"Darrah, don't forget to write to us once in a while'."
"Don't forget about me!"
She turned around and carried all her belongings to the black and red painted train. Sitting in an empty spot on the train, there was such a crowd full of people. Ranging from short to tall, posh to less experienced, and some returning students. Looking out the window, a kid slipped right next to her.
"Sorry, do you mind if I sit here?" He said, putting his hands together.
Darrah turned from the window and shrugged off, "Yeah, I don't mind."
He set his belongings down and pulled out a cage, which in fact an owl was in. "I'm Cedric Diggory, you?" He took out his hand and smiled. Darrah already saw the young man in a Hogwarts uniform, a polished black and yellow tie tucked into his vest, those house colors indicated that he attended Hogwarts before.
Darrah nodded and shook his hand lightly and pulled away. "I am Darrah, Darrah Gordor. I see that you're a returning Hogwarts student, if I'm right?"
"Nice to meet you, Darrah." Cedric bowed. "And yes, I am a previous Hogwarts student, and I will be in my third year for this semester-" Before he could finish, he was startled at the sudden shout of, "HARRY POTTER!"
A guy started waving his arms and jumping around, creating a commotion. "Harry Potter is on the Hogwarts Express you guys, he is ALIVE!" Everyone went silent, then started whispering to one another. Some voices started getting louder and some just erupted into howling.
"Harry Potter? Who's Harry Potter?" Darrah whispered and looked at Cedric confused. Out of all these eleven years of her life, she never stumbled across the name Potter in newspapers or articles online. Mostly knowing that she never liked to support in online rants or other enticing visual ideas. Cedric pursed his lips and widened his eyes. "You haven't heard about Harry Potter? Everyone rambles on about him."
Darrah looked at him annoyed. "Sorry, I don't like to participate in social abilities like these."
Cedric returned to his normal expression and pulled out an old newspaper from his packing case and opened it up, putting it in between them. "Apparently, Harry Potter is the only one who survived what is known called as 'the killing curse'. Most notably calling Potter 'the boy who lived'. The killing curse is one of the most unforgivable curses and most dangerous, there isn't even, NOT even one countercurse for the spell." He finished, stuffing the newspaper into his trunk. Darrah shuddered at the fact of the killing curse, it seemed horrifying. She never heard of unforgivable curses, it scared the lot of her.
"Who is known for the killing curse anyway?" Darrah whispered in thought, hoping for an answer.
Cedric looked around the train, hoping no one was going to hear him. He knew he shouldn't be saying the name but with a brave voice he responded, "Well, he goes by the Dark Lord, but his name is...Voldemort."