The Outcasts Of Hogwarts

Chapter 7 A home far away

It had started as a typical day. The sun had been peaking in and out from behind the small clumps of clouds that dotted the sky and a pleasant breeze had swished through the trees. Amaris had been lying on the grass in the cool shadow of her father's mansion, her boots lying next to her. Pachua had been flitting among the flowers like a dragonfly, looking for insects. She had been listening to the sounds of cooking floating out of the kitchen window, accompanied by the usual tone-deaf humming. House-elves weren't known for their singing.

But they were known for their cooking. Amaris had taken a deep breath in and could just catch the scent of cottage pie on the breeze, Celly the house elf's speciality. Her stomach had given a rumble of longing; she hoped it would be ready soon. She had spent the day running around the wood that bordered the gardens since dawn. Her aim had been to catch a pixie to see if they were as mischievous as the books said. Absentmindedly, Amaris rubbed her sore ears; the books had understated it.

After hours of searching with no luck, the large swarm of the little flying devils had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Buzzing around her like blue mosquitoes, they had tugged at her hair and clothes. When she had tried to talk to them, they had hoisted her up by her ears. And for good measure, they had stolen her shoes and thrown them in a nearby pond. It had taken her over an hour to get out of the situation ( by acting completely uninterested and calm until they got bored) and then even longer to find her shoes. By then she had missed lunch by several hours.

Lying on the grass, she had imagined what she would be told this time when she strolled in just in time for dinner, covered in mud from head to bare feet, shoes in hand. Probably something along the lines of 'I don't know why I ever bother washing those clothes of yours. If I didn't know better, I'd say you liked them dirty. And don't expect second helpings, lunch was prepared for you, as always, at the normal time. It's not my fault if you weren't here to eat it.' Just the same as she had been told last time. Then Celly would always take her clothes to be washed, and although she was never given seconds, her portion would be bigger than usual. Darian the goblin would then ask her what she had discovered on her latest adventure and everyone would lean in to listen. She would then tell them everything while eating the delicious meal Celly had prepared. Amaris had smiled at the thought, sure that that time would be no different.

Then all of a sudden, the singing had stopped. Sitting up, Amaris had seen silhouettes leaving the kitchen. Curious. Slowly, quietly, she had gotten up and crept towards the house, the way she did when trying to get close to an especially shy creature. She hadn't been sure why she was being so elusive; something just hadn't been quite right. It had suddenly gone very quiet. The atmosphere had changed, she could feel it.

She had been halfway through the kitchen when she'd heard voices from the hall. Voices she didn't recognise. Invaders! She had thought. Who are they and what have they come for?

Her back pressed against next to the doorway that led into the hall, she had listened, heart-pounding. It had beaten so hard, that she could feel it in her ears, the steady drumming muffling the stranger's voices. She had strained her ears and tried to quieten her breathing but it was no use, she hadn't been able to make out a word that was being said. So she had taken in a slow deep breath and gathered her courage. Then slowly she had edged around the door frame.

She had shot back barely a second later, flattening her shaking body so tightly against the wall that it was surprising that she hadn't fallen through. She'd been seen. Now what?

All she'd managed to take in was that the intruders were two men in muggle clothes. They'd been towering over the little house elf at their feet, who had been stuttering a reply to a question, clinging onto her ears nervously. Then one of the men had turned, cold eyes locking with Amaris for an instant before she had retreated.