No One Saw It Coming.

The trio apparated into alley way, hidden behind a large wall. Tears rushed down the teenager’s face, but her mother turned and quickly wiped them away.

“Bee, this isn’t the time to mourn. We need to make sure we’re safe first. Breathe, hold your head up, and put on your big-girl face. We have to meet with him at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Before she could ask her mother anything, she was being tugged along towards the street. The crowd suddenly engulfed them and Bridgette moved closer to her small mom, still holding her now terrified cat. After a short walk they entered a bustling building only to head upstairs towards a room simply marked with the number eight. Knocking three times, her mother rubbed Bridgette’s back soothingly, comforting her the way only a mother could.

The door creaked open and an old man answered with a kind smile gracing his lips.
“Hello Constance, and hello miss Bridgette. It’s been quite a while. Come in, let’s discuss our business.”

Behind his smile, Bridgette could see his sadness. The regret he felt, and the sympathy. Following behind her mother, she shut the door and finally set down the black mass of fur from her arms. He meowed loudly, then ran under the bed to hide.

“Bee, Ash will be fine. Let him hide, he’ll relax. Let me introduce my old headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He will be helping us settle here and hide, but mostly keeping you safe.”

The teen looked confused, and stared at the man. His eyes peered back over his half-moon spectacles, and his beard pooled in his lap.

“Mom…”

Bridgette seemed to be slowly putting together the events of the last twenty minutes.

“What do you mean, dad is dead?”

Tears tickled the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall yet. Not until she knew what was going on. Her mother looked down sadly, obviously struggling to keep her own voice steady.

“We have been fighting alongside other witches and wizards to help defeat Voldemort, which had inevitably created enemies for us. Lately your father had been poking his nose where it didn’t belong, looking for clues to help out the Order, and someone sold him out. As soon as he was found out, he came looking for us. I was tipped off, and that’s when I rushed to get you. I’m sorry baby, we were waiting to tell you until you were sixteen. We didn’t want to involve you until you had a choice.”

She sat still for a few minutes, letting everything sink in. Sighing, she ran a hand through her long chestnut hair and looked to her mother.

“Okay. Okay. Where are we now?”

The older woman sat down next to Dumbledore and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“England, London to be exact. In the Leaky Cauldron. You’re going to be transferring to Hogwarts, dear.”

“Hogwarts?! What about Salem Witches' Institute?! What about my friends? What about our life there?!”

The younger girl was all but screaming, standing up and pacing the room.

“Dear, you have to understand. We are in hiding now. No one officially knows of you, or about you. But, they know your father had a daughter. We have to keep you safe, just in case they find out. We can’t let your power fall into their hands.”

Dumbledore stood, walking away from the talking woman to the pacing teen, gently touching her shoulder.

“Miss Rose, this is the best option for you right now. We have similar courses to the Salem Institute, and you will be starting as a transfer fifth year. We’ll sort you, and you will live on the grounds while your mother works at St. Mungo’s. No one will know who you are, or what you can do. Please, do think about this. We can keep you safe.”

Sighing again, she knew he was right.

“Okay Dumbledore, when do classes start?” Turning to look at her mother, her blue eyes misted slightly.

“Mom, when are you leaving?”

Dumbledore was first to reply, a small smile once more on his face.

“School will begin three days from now. You have time to get what you need for school, I have your list here. Your mother will be here the whole time, leaving when you do to begin her work. You won’t be able to visit much, but you may write as much as you wish. That being said, I am going to take my leave now. I’ll see you in three days, Bridgette.”

He moved to leave, but stopped as he stood in front of the middle-aged woman.

“Constance, I’m sorry about Paul. He was such a good man, with a kind heart. I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe and happy.” He touched her shoulder comfortingly, then left.

As soon as the door shut behind him, both women broke down crying. They clung to each other, all they had left, and cried for their stolen family and stolen freedom. The young girl didn’t know it now, but the Dark Lord had killed a man over a prophecy destined to end his reign. A prophecy about the very girl who wept on the floor; a mere girl of fifteen.