Girls like me

These sort of things don't happen to ordinary girls.

Girls who secretly daydream about being courted by Hogwarts' most popular hunk, who worry about their grades and fuss over their less than satisfactory body, girls like that don't come home at half past twelve to witness things like this. Aren't supposed to open the front door to be greeted by this sight and those sounds. So at first I can't comprehend the bolts of light accompanied by weakened screams and deafening laughter, cause I never really imagined taking part in the horror stories I excitedly read by candlelight, a big bag of cookies within arm's reach. Still, they are really here, cursing, slashing, hexing, ripping,

fouler, deeper, faster, crueller than even Edgar Allan Poe'd have dared describe.

What do girls like me know about bravery, stealth and plotting when their home is being brutally mutilated by wizards one hundred times as powerful as them? Still, I manage to stay undetected while I crawl over to the kitchen table cause common sense doesn't tell me to fight or flee. The red streak defiling the wall that leads straight into the next room wakes in me some frantic urge. I have to know, I have to try and do something, so that later I won't be able to blame myself. It's hard to explain what exactly it is that compels me to do something an everyday girl would not do. I grab for the kitchen knife I know is always resting on the counter next to the sink and when it lies heavy in my hand, I ask myself what to do next. Adrenaline is pumping through my system but I still feel the fright, sticking to me like a cold clammy glove. Suddenly a green flash, bright enough to burn its way on my retina, lights the place and when I hear the dull thump of a dead body hitting the floor I can't help but whimper. They're preoccupied though, so someone is still alive and I still have a chance to prove I'm more than a pathetic little geek. Knife in one hand, wand in other I sneak into the living room, though I find the name infinitely cruel when I notice the two lifeless bodies slumped against the couch.

The backs of their murderers are turned to me obscuring my view from my sister, but the cries and grunts give me a pretty good idea of what is going on. Sweat is breaking out all over my back and tears are gathering in my eyes. I want nothing more then sink down on my knees and sob and wail... But then there is the anger and the madness, cause this shouldn't be happening to me, and it needs a way out. Gathering all my courage, which actually isn't terribly much or I would've been sorted in Gryffindor, I sneak up at one of them. How it is possible he doesn't hear my shallow breathing is a mystery to me but I don't care as I plunge the knife in his body while shouting "stupefy" at another. Both hit target but my rush of victory is short-lived. The other two Death Eaters avert their attention from Lisa to me in lightning speed. Spells start flying through the air and I can't hold out long cause girls like me don't get sudden streaks of brilliancy. Frantically I block bolt after bolt trying to get something in between but girls like me never have luck on their side and then a simple Expelliarmus robs me of my wand. When it splinters in his hand I know I've messed up. But then again, what did I expect? "Another bird to play with boys" one shouts and while the second enervates the third I see the fourth pulling the knife from his shoulder. I'm close to hysterics when I see the fury behind his mask. "That was a very stupid thing to do." I know it was and judging from her desperate look Lisa knows, too. But she's ever more helpless, ugly burns and blisters covering her body, blood dripping from her mouth and along her legs. "Never mess with a death eater, silly girl", he mutters closing in on me. As they break me down I wish I had played the role of scared rat, wish I had ignored what was going on, wish I'd run and left. And after they've made sure I'll never forget, they grin down on me and leave.

We weren't special, not pureblooded or mudblooded, we didn't have an important role in wizarding society or took part in resistance groups. And perhaps I should've known, cause it's always the ordinary families that suffer most in war.

Today, before dawn, Aurors will arrive to poke around in this mess of broken furniture and limps and they'll find me, huddled up in my corner reeking of sweat and blood and all kinds of other liquids. After they've determined that I was left alive, I'll be taken to Mungo's while some junior assistant scrabbles down incoherent details of the crime scene. I'll be special cause the Daily Prophet will print me on the front page, people will think of me and talk about me and pity me. But tomorrow when sadism strikes somewhere else, I'll be just as easily forgotten. Cause girls like me were never meant to be special.