Panic

*Disclaimer: This story is a piece of Harry Potter fanfiction, which is owned by J.K. Rowling and her associates. This story is simply based on the wonderful wizarding world that she created.

I sat Indian style on a grassy hill overlooking the quaint little village of Mould-on-the-Wold. Not many acres made up the rural community and because the town held more villagers than it could provide for each home practically sat on top of the next. But despite the cluttered pile of wooden siding and cramped windows, the sight warmed me from the inside out. It was home and nothing could take away the security and sweet smelling aroma that home expressed.

Nothing that I could foresee anyway.

Squinting toward the northern end of Mould-on-the-Wold where my own home sat I searched for any signs that Albus or Aberforth had come to look for me. I had disappeared from the house no more than fifteen minutes ago and mother always had a fit if I was unaccounted for for too long. It was heartwarming to know that she cared so much about her little girl, but a little annoying after awhile. I was six years old for Merlin’s sake! I was on the top of the world.

After realizing that neither of my brothers were worried enough to come looking for me just yet, I turned back to the collection of purple daisies that rested in my lap. What to do now? I loved escaping the strict enclosure of my home. I was allowed outside, don’t get me wrong, but even so, I was rarely allowed to leave the house without one of my older brothers attached to one end of one of my premature hands. You cannot spend your entire childhood connected to the arm of one of your sworn protectors and I do not play on doing anything of the sort. Being a young girl of such conception and enjoyment it is not possible for me to execute that sort of action with honest integrity.

I glanced toward my home once more only to return my gaze to the assortment of feathered daisies in front of me. Still no one! A sense of guilt washed over me as the reality of what I had just done finally began to sink in. Never before had I even attempted to flee from our home and the strange feeling that I had committed something wrong washed over me. This couldn’t be immoral. Something that felt this pleasant and amazing could not be so erroneous. It was not possible.

I closed my light eyes as a swift gust of wind blew across the hill and originated tears, resulting in them gathering at the raised tilt of my eyes. I loved sitting up here as the works of life went about their daily duties around me. The wind, the rain, the purple daisies…nothing got to me more powerfully than nature itself. But try to tell your mother that.

My mother was amazing. She was physically beautiful, mentally wise, and emotionally in check. She treasured the life that she led and found running a family esteeming and satisfying. She had her hopes for me- being her only daughter and most likely final child, any parent would- but even so, she did not press them or make them known to me in ways that I could pick them up. She was into her own routine of things and she was too busy being a parent to have time to listen to my ramblings about how the outdoors hastily whispered my name.

My father, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to take in every word that left my lips. I was his little princess and that much was definitely obvious to everyone in our village. My brothers did not care that I was getting all of father’s attentions and that made things a little bit easier for me. I would hate to have all of his special treatment when they got nothing. But father was not like that. Even though he spent a lot of his time at home with me, he always found time with everyone in our family- mom, Albus, Aberforth. He loved the family that he and mom had created and would do anything to keep it as a part of him forever.

I opened my eyes as the draft passed and adjusted to the bright light of the sun. It was a gorgeous day outside and from every corner of my vision I found something helplessly inviting. But there, a few feet in front of me, I found the most appealing artifact of the morning: an old boot. What in the world was an old boot doing sitting on the top of a lonely hill? I wiped the daisies from my lap with my right hand. They fell to the ground around me, most likely ruined in the process, but at that moment, I only had eyes for the lonely shoe. I crawled the little distance from my place to the ankle boot on my knees. It was homely and unappealing, but at the same time I felt the uncontrollable urge to touch it with the tips of my fingers.

But before I did anything of the sort, I pulled my eyes away from the relic and glanced back in the direction of my house. Father would be home soon and he would easily notice my absence within the first few moments of his arrival. I could not help but observe the hovering group of boys gathered at the foot of the hill. They appeared to be much older than my eldest brother Albus, probably sixteen or seventeen years old, and immediate fear became my most prominent emotion, second only to curiosity. Were those boys watching me? I turned back to the boot rather than mull those boys any longer.

Directing all of my attention toward the boot, I gripped the heel and pulled it closer to my rosy face. I bent over the top, not caring to hold my breath to prevent inhaling a foul stench, and peered inside. The dark confinements of the boot reflected in my eyes and my first assumption was that the foot accessory was indeed empty. I let out a fluid sigh and adjusted my position on the grass. I pressed my bottom to the ground and pulled my knees up, sitting with my legs hunched out in front of me. But in that action, my foot hit the boot and it fell to the side.

In truth, the boot was not vacant.

Instead, a mousy clump of what looked like a hollow sphere rolled out, breaking and crumbling with the force of the fall. Once again, my interest got the best of me and my hands found contact with the unknown nest automatically. It deteriorated and collapsed in my hands and the horror of what it contained struck me with the force of what nothing else could . I dropped the hive and sat still, waiting for the insect that it withheld to show its face. I have no idea why I did not run away from the disturbed home if I was expecting something short of a disaster, but due to my actions of remaining where I was; I was preparing for the worst.

From that moment on, I was sure of nothing. I let out a high-pitched scream as a horde of bees crowded around me, buzzing furiously at the fact that I had disturbed them so rudely. I was not aware of it at that moment, but the series of screams that left my mouth triggered the attentions of the three village boys at the foot of the hill. They came running up the knoll in haste to see what had generated my shrieks and would have most likely continued to my side if it had not been for the uncontrollable actions on my part.

In my absolute fear I had panicked and what took place next was something even I could not control. I knew that my family had powers supreme to some around us but I had no idea what they were exactly. Was this some sort of variation of the very abilities that my parents and brothers possessed? I was not sure, but whatever it was, it was not something that was comforting for me. I was going ballistic.

I was sucked back into reality at the sudden bombardment of three masculine voices, shouting under their breaths and issuing orders that made no sense to me. I slid open my eyelids to reveal the world and took in several pale white faces. Each male was staring at me with both terror and resentment gleaming in their spherical eyes. I had never been so afraid in my entire life.

“Grab her, Howard! Hold her down before she gets away!” One of the men hissed, lunging forward and grabbing a hold of my left ankle. The other two helped to pin me to the ground and I squealed under their weight. What were they doing to me? What had I ever done to them? I squirmed and struggled to free myself from their grip and attempted to yell for help.

I knew that I was in danger but there was nothing more that I could do. One of the boys’ smelly hands clasped around my cheeks, coating my mouth and preventing it from letting out any more cries of distress as the weight amounted to more than I could bear. The last of my hopes were lost.