A scream of pain pierced the
silence as the young girl stumbled and hit the ground, a sickening CRACK!
penetrating the stillness of the darkening forest. Unmoving, Azalea attempted
to catch her breath, stifling a sob in regards to the fiery pain radiating from
her left ankle. What had she tripped
over? Gently lifting her blonde head, she dared to peek behind her to see
what monster had caused this. Too dark,
she thought, frustrated. “Lumos,” Azalea muttered as quietly as possible, after
pulling her wand out of her robe. In the dim light, she could see the guilty
party.

It was…. a tree root. Not
even a large one, at that!

Taking a deep breath, Azalea
bit her sleeve and attempted to move herself into an upright sitting position
against the near tree. The pain as she moved her foot was near blinding, and
the first year’s eyes filled with tears as she scooted to the tree behind her.
As she reached her destination, tears rolled down her face. This day had not turned out anything like she
had thought it was. Sighing and leaning her head against the gnarled bark of
the tree, Azalea closed her eyes and thought back to today’s happenings that
led her to her current predicament, one in particular:

The boy with the glasses. Year 4, straight O student. Particularly intelligent in
Potions. Tyler was his name, and he was the envy of many males, and the object
of many females affections. Azalea had been pining over him since the start of
the term, and today in the hall he had stopped her by the doors to the Great
Hall with a smile on his face.

 “Hey, Azalea, is it?”

Internally panicking, the blonde glanced at his face quickly before looking
down at her textbooks. A History of Magic
glared at her in golden letters. “Y-yes, that’s me.”

Tyler took the stack of books from the first year and began to stroll into the
Great Hall, towards their house table, Ravenclaw.

“I was wondering if you’d care to take a walk with me on the grounds tonight.
Around dusk?”

Azalea’s eyes widened as she tried to process what was happening. “You want
…me… to hang out with you?”

The older boy flashed a heart-stopping smile at her. “Well, yeah, if you’d be
so kind as to grace me with your presence. I’d like to get to know you better.”

She was certain she was having a heart attack. After a quiet response of
“okay”, Tyler set Azaleas books on the table by her friends, smiled at her
again and replied with, “Well, alright! I’ll meet you by the lake right before
dusk? Around 7?” and trotted off to a table of serious looking fourth years.



The day had dragged on for the young witch, until 7 o’clock came. Azalea found
herself with sweaty palms, standing in the openly grassy area between the lake
and the Whomping Willow. A pair of relatively soft, unfamiliar hands placed
themselves over her eyes as she heard a male voice proclaim, “Alright, I have a
surprise for you!”

“T-tyler? Is that you?”
Azalea asked nervously. She didn’t generally trust others, however, she was
hoping for the best in this situation. They wouldn’t be leaving the grounds, so
nothing could really happen… right?

She had been so wrong.

Why had she been so
trusting? Hadn’t her mother told her
time and time again, don’t be fooled by men? Tyler had not only been quiet the
whole way in here, even after Azalea had asked him numerous times where they
were going, but he had kept a vicelike grip on her after tying a bandanna
around her eyes and claiming he was going to show her something.

That led to the current
situation: her ankle was getting more swollen by the minute, she was
increasingly thirsty, and it was becoming pitch black in the forest very
quickly. Re-opening her eyes, Azalea saw something she hadn’t before: In the
distance, too far to crawl, was a fire. Or, at least, what looked to be a fire.
That must mean someone was camping nearby!

“HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!”

Her shout echoed off of the
trees. Anticipating a response, she waited, not moving a single muscle, for
fear of missing a reply.

After what felt like an
eternity with no distinguishable reply, Azalea thought hard about any spells
she had been learning that could be of use, without damaging the area around her
(for fear of falling trees or starting a wildfire) and without making whomever
was in the camp think she was an enemy with ill intent. Then it hit her. Light.
That would maybe draw their attention. Not just light, but colored light.
Sparks.

The young witch thrust her
arm and wand forward and quietly announced, “VerdiMILLious,” as a pathetic
excuse for green sparks flounced from the tip of her wand. She sighed in
disgust. Not enough power. She decided to give it another go.

“VERDIMILLIOUS!” Azalea shouted, thrusting her arm forward once
again, as a brilliant shower of emerald sparkles shot from her wand into the
treetops above where she sit. With the sound of crashing in the distance, a
clear sign the fellow forest dwellers were coming her way, Azalea didn’t have
time to worry whether they were going to harm her or not; she was more
concerned with the giant spiders the forest was famous for. Slowly attempting
to stand against the tree, and clinging to it, she made the mistake of putting
weight on her ankle. As she fell to the ground and began to see stars at the
edge of her dimming vision, the last thing she could remember was the large
mass coming directly towards her.