((First Year))
When she reached the door of the girls' dormitories, Nellie paused in front of the door and looked down at her arm. The sleeve of her shirt was all she saw. When she pulled it up, There were her scars. You could barely see the writing on it, but you would know what it said when you saw it. "Mudblood" was all you saw. Everywhere all over her arm. It brought back so many memories. She remembered the life she had with those people and how she never remembered her parents. She was only a few hours old after they where murdered. It was horrible. She didn't get to bake cookies with her mom or play catch with her dad. Or even discover her powers with them around to cheer her on. How happy they would've been for her and how happy she would've been with them. Nellie began to cry, but wiped her tears away immediatly. She didn't want to be known as a cry baby. Nellie decided she had a long day and would go to bed. Suddenly when she opened the door, there was a package on her bed.
What? Why is there a package on my bed? How did it get here? who brought it? She asked herself over and over. There was only one way to find out, she went over to the package and it read
Dear Nellie Wormhole, I have decided to give this to you. I have no use for it and I know you have tons. It was left in my possesion from your father which was given to by Mr. Harry Potter himself. They were, apparently, good friends. Now you probably never meet Mr. Potter, but i am sure he has meet you in some way or another. Use it well. There was no signiture. Suddenly, she couldn't hold in her curiosity. She HAD to open it! Her fragile hands ripped away the tape as quickly as possible. The box flaps flew open as she pulled them away. Bright light shot from the box and blinded her.
What is going on? The question rang in her head when the light dimmed. The box was wide open and she walk towards it curiously. There was something glistening inside the box, Nellie pulled it out. It was a cloak.
A cloak? That's it? Nellie was disapointed.
Well if it was immportant to my father, then it is important to me. She smiled at the thought of her father wearing the cloak then giving it to her.
Maybe this will be an important use to me one day. The thought sounded weird , but it must be true. Also, she had to know who sent it to her. She never had mail, or a friend before. Nellie needed to clear her head, she needed sleep. The cloak was now safely in her trunk and Nellie was safely in bed, dreaming happy dreams. Untill bad memories started to fog up in her head.
