Who: Megan Jones (Susan can tag on if she wants) When: Friday early morning Where: Abe's Safehouse, her room What: A startling advancement in her dreams Rating: Low [clarification: the foreign house does not reflect Yaxley's, it's just an odd house layout she imagined from reading a book before.]
Megan would always recognise her old home in Somerset. The way the walk to the door always tried to trip her up near the middle, the smell of the flowers her mum had planted outside, even the way her dad's guitar was the first thing which caught your eye when you came into the sitting room. It was all too familiar, bright and sunny, as if the building had not been destroyed years before.
That was how she should have known something was wrong.
She had practiced apparating to Glastonbury from the safehouse using the wand she found on the kitchen counter. It made sense at the time, but now she didn't even realise the wand wasn't with her anymore, nor that it had been her wand, the one which broke when Yaxley used her for a shield against Hestia's disarming spell at the Ministry. Those details were fuzzy as she picked up the guitar and sat on the stairs to pluck at the strings. She was starting to figure out an old tune her dad used to play when a loud crash echoed from the second level. Megan dropped the guitar and ran up the steps.
What started as a trip up the stairs suddenly switched to a descent. She was coming down to, what appeared to be, the landing of an old, decrepit manor. Furniture and wall-hangings were ripped; contents of boxes or drawers were overturned. It was like vandals had ransacked the place searching for something in particular, since there were also jewels scattered about. Even the kitchen was in disarray when she came to it: half-eaten fruits and old baked goods being picked over by a few flies. Wherever she wandered, it felt as if she were the only one in the strange home. A peak out the window gave her no hints to where she was at. It could have been any home like the old manors she could see as a child, with a large lawn. What disturbed her was the lightning which kept flashing over the clear blue sky save the dark gray clouds looming on the horizon. It puzzled her that the lightning didn't seem to come from them.
A low growl startled Megan and she jumped, whirling around to see a tiger relaxing on an old, victorian sofa. It stared at her and flicked it's tail. She didn't wait for it to move; she just ran. Dozens of added rooms became a labyrinth as she tried to evade the giant feline, eventually managing to somehow lose it by hiding a closet? A cupboard? Something with a door. Megan didn't dare to come out until the growling faded, at which time the sound of human footsteps led her back to the front of the house. Someone was making their way toward the stairwell. She peeked out of the parlor to see a red-haired girl race down the corridor and bang on the front door. There was no mistaking her. The girl was undoubtably Ronnie, but when Megan tried to call out to her she apparently didn't hear.
The lightning flashed again and... she swore Ronnie had whiskers. Megan wrestled with her mind and tried to get a better look. She looked like Ronnie again. A second flash cracked very near to the house and when Megan looked up again Ronnie was the tiger, pawing and clawing at the front door. She tried to move forward but remained rooted to the floor, unable to shift closer despite feeling as if she were moving. Suddenly, the front door opened of it's own will and light flooded the house....
Megan woke with a start. A quick assessment of her surroundings told her she wasn't in Glastonbury nor at a strange manor. She was at the safehouse, with Tally sleeping at the foot of her bed and her door edged slightly open. Daylight was just starting to stream in through the window.
Trying not to wake the dog, she reached for the bedside table -- feeling the heavy weight of her still stiff arm -- to grab the book Cal had given her. She had to get down as many details of the dream as possible before they were forgotten.