Post by Eragon on May 20, 2012 8:44:59 GMT -5
Memoirs of an American Witch
Katherine (Kat) Holly
Yes, I'm writing memoirs at age 15. Don't laugh. What I'm writing about really isn't that funny.
Some of you might already know that my grandparents were murdered by Seperatists, but you probably don't know when, how, or why. Well I was there, and I remember it crystal clear.
I was five years old, and Mom and Dad were off in Britain for the weekend meeting with someone named Arthur Weasley to talk about International Muggle Policies or something. I spent the weekend with Gram and Gramps. Gram and I were upstairs--she was showing me all of the knicknacks from their travels. Gramps was watching Quidditch on a Muggle TV. Don't ask me how that works, I still haven't figured it out myself.
There was a knock at the door. Gram and I went to the window where we had a view of the front door. Gramps would have peeked through the window like always. Men in long black robes with deep hoods stood at the door. When Gramps didn't open it immediately, I remember getting an odd, uncomfortable feeling. Gram did too. She took me and hid me in a little secret cubbyhole with a hidden door located under the display table. Gram took my small hands in her two big ones and told me to stay put and not to make any noise, no matter what.
There was a loud bang, followed by the sound of splintering wood. A flash of green light could faintly be seen coming out the front door. Gram closed the attic door and locked it, then pulled out her wand and placed enchantments on it.
Footsteps thudded up the stairs.
Katherine (Kat) Holly
Yes, I'm writing memoirs at age 15. Don't laugh. What I'm writing about really isn't that funny.
Some of you might already know that my grandparents were murdered by Seperatists, but you probably don't know when, how, or why. Well I was there, and I remember it crystal clear.
I was five years old, and Mom and Dad were off in Britain for the weekend meeting with someone named Arthur Weasley to talk about International Muggle Policies or something. I spent the weekend with Gram and Gramps. Gram and I were upstairs--she was showing me all of the knicknacks from their travels. Gramps was watching Quidditch on a Muggle TV. Don't ask me how that works, I still haven't figured it out myself.
There was a knock at the door. Gram and I went to the window where we had a view of the front door. Gramps would have peeked through the window like always. Men in long black robes with deep hoods stood at the door. When Gramps didn't open it immediately, I remember getting an odd, uncomfortable feeling. Gram did too. She took me and hid me in a little secret cubbyhole with a hidden door located under the display table. Gram took my small hands in her two big ones and told me to stay put and not to make any noise, no matter what.
There was a loud bang, followed by the sound of splintering wood. A flash of green light could faintly be seen coming out the front door. Gram closed the attic door and locked it, then pulled out her wand and placed enchantments on it.
Footsteps thudded up the stairs.