 The Challenges and Trials of Tyler Gibbs - Sa13+
Tyler breathed a spell under his breathe and conjured a single white rose from his wand tip. He placed it on the stone in front of him and muttered softly "Happy birthday, mum". His voice was strangled with affection as he got off his knees and walked away from the gloomy, foggy graveyard in the center of godric's hollow. There were still three or four days before he had to leave for his fourth year of Hogwarts but he couldn't take another second living with his father. His mother had passed a year ago today, coincidentally on her birthday. Tyler was the only son of a muggleborn witch who had married a muggle. Ever since here mysterious death, his father had gone on as if nothing had happened and Tyler was his normal, non-magical son. He even made him try out for the football team during the summer. Now Tyler lugged his suitcase through the silent streets of Godric's Hollow perturbing the silence at such an early hour of the morning. He sat down on a secluded curb and waited for the bus to pick him up.
When he arrived in Diagon alley there was far too much activity for his liking. He tried to blend in with the crowd at first, aimlessly wandering from shop to shop trying to shake his gloomy mood but it would not leave him. Finally he decided to stop pretending. He couldn't fake that he was like every other wizard shopping for books with his mum and dad before being wisked away to Hogwarts with love and affection. His father refused to escort him into Diagon alley but this was nothing new, he never would anyway. He turned off into a quiet alleyway to be alone, he couldn't take people right now and his head was pounding. Somehow the air seemed cooler and refreshing the minute he walked down the dimly lit path. Something in the back of his mind vaguely told him to turn back, that this wasn't right and he shouldn't be here but he ignored it. The brisk air on the muggy August day was intoxicating. The further down he walked, the quieter the busy streets of Diagon Alley became until he didn't hear them at all. Finally he acknowledged the wretching in his stomach. [I]Something just is not right[I] He thought. A vice hard grip grabbed his arm from a small alleyway he neglected to see and pulled him out of plain sight. A leathery hand creeped over his mouth the second he went to scream out. "Hush now" the mysterious figure said in a snake-like voice.
"You Margo's kid, ain't you?" Her voice was raspy and coarse
Tyler went to reply then realized his captor's hand was keeping him from responding. [I]Not her smartest move[I]He thought and this thought made him laugh. Of all the inappropriate times to laugh, he picked now. The woman grabbed both of his arms and swung him around to see his face. Tyler looked her full on. Her skin was wrinkly under the shadows of a cloack (peculiar for such a hot day) and the dim lighting of what Tyler now realized was Knockturn Alley. Her lips seemed to shrivel into her face as she bore a look of disgust showing her orange, crooked teeth. Her nose was angular and swooped out putting more emphasis on her strangely bugged out gray-blue eyes. Tyler abruptly stopped laughing when he saw those wild eyes.
"You is, isn't you?"
She said with a sort of awe. This frightened Tyler more than anything. The fact that she looked into his face and saw something more than a 6'0 half breed who seriously needed a hair cut. as if there was something magnificent she was seeing for the first time. That is what startled Tyler. But he knew that to keep this from turning dangerous (for his mother was a shady character) he would have to get on equal footing with this bizarre white-haired witch.
"How did you know my mum?" He asked trying to sound as confident as possible. The woman seemed even more startled to hear the boy's voice but this was something Tyler was used to. He knew that at 14 he should have a relatively developed voice. Everyone that saw his height and his naturally athletic build predicted he played quidditch. They didn't expect the voice of a 12-year-old who hadn't fully hit puberty. His voice was squeaky and cracked a lot but he was never insecure about it. The witch muttered something under her breathe then grinned a queer, reminiscent grin toward Tyler.
"Margo was my cousin. Though, I shouldn't say was becasue she always be my cousin. We lost touch a while back. The last time I saw you, you were about 3 feet tall"
She laughed and for a minute, her face contorted to where she was almost ...pretty. Tyler could see that she had been a pretty woman back in her day though she did not seem that old. More like withered away. But the smile faded fast and she resumed the harsh look of a wrinkly old hag.
"Come with me, Son of Margo"
she said pulling on his arms with her vice grip. Despite her stature she was very strong and pulled Tyler away easily, or maybe he just wasn't fighting it...
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