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The epic adventure of Miranda House
The Epic Adventure of Miranda House
Chapter 1
“Madame President, how does it feel?”
“Mrs. House, can you tell us your plans for the future?”
“How does Mr. Aiden House feel about being the first male first lady… errr first man? First gentleman?”
“Everyone please step aside. The president needs room to enter her new house.” A large, muscled security guard started to push through the crowd and the gaggle of reporters, journalists, and their respective camera crews immediately cleared the way. Following behind the security guard were three more, all clothed in black and wearing neutral expressions.They made much of the crowd nervous, judging by the shifty eyed looks that kept flashing back to the guard's enormous muscles. As the guards passed, the crowd donned relieved faces, quickly followed by curious, as they struggled to get a glimpse of the new president. She was easily recognizable, with her bright red hair and startling blue eyes that America had gotten so used to seeing over the past year. Her fiery red hair had been straightened by her make-up team that morning, and not a single hair was out of place. It fell down past her shoulders in an unbreakable sheet. Her mouth was coated in pale pink lipstick that looked completely natural, and it was turned upward in a barely contained smirk at the seemingly fearless press who got anxious at a security guard. Everyone knew that the president had a sense of humour; it was part of the reason she was so likable. Slight laugh lines graced her face as she smiled, reaching from her perfectly shaped lips to her foundation-covered nose. Her cheeks boasted high cheekbones that made her look younger and more sophisticated than she was. She was thirty-six years old, but she didn’t look a day over 25. Her eyes were the most noticeable part of her face. They were a stunning blue- gray that seemed to change color depending on her mood. When she was happy, they leaned more towards the blue side. But when she was sad or angry, they were more grey. Her long, thick brown eyelashes curled around her eyes, highlighting her natural beauty. Her thin ginger eyebrows arched high above her eyes. She wore a practical grey pant suit.
But she wasn’t elected because of her looks. From a young age, Miranda had shown leadership ability, and she was made governor of Colorado when she was 30. She had a natural ability to talk to the people that none of the other candidates had. She never did anything for herself. It was always about the people, Miranda said. Always about the people. The election was won by a landslide. Her main opponent was some old geezer who would probably spend his entire term sitting on his butt doing absolutely nothing. But she has said that she never expected to win.
Miranda and her entourage of bodyguards finally made it to the front door of the white house. Miranda sighed. Usually she loved answering questions, but the press was beginning to annoy her.
“Are you okay?” Her favorite security guard, August, asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Miranda looked down at her shoes.
“Do you want to go see your office for the first time?” August gestured up the stairs.
Miranda hesitantly started to walk over to the stairs. She felt completely alien in her home. The sound reverberated of the marble walls and bounced back to her, making her feel smaller than she really was.
“Hold on, I have to go get the key.”
Miranda sat down on a bench and admired some of the artwork on the walls. She told herself that she could get used to this place. She wasn’t sure if she believed it.
Miranda’s new office was completely spotless except for a piece of paper on her desk. She reached for the paper, but August knocked her hand away.
“Careful. It could be dangerous.” Miranda rolled her eyes but allowed him to do his job.
August gingerly walked over to the piece of paper and read it aloud.
“Good luck. Hmm, must be from old Tim Herby. I liked him. He was like you. He cared about the people.” August said approvingly.
“I talked to him several times. Nice guy.”
“Yeah. His death really was tragic. A plane crash? What are the odds of that?”
“It makes me sad just thinking about it.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to start personalizing your office.” August left and Miranda paced a few times, trying to decide how to give her office a facelift. She passed back the desk to take another glance at the note. She couldn’t believe what her eyes told her. Her head was spinning in circles. The note had changed.
After reasoning with herself to calm down, Miranda took another look at the note. It was a sure thing. She mumbled the changed note under her breath.
“Look in the bottom drawer of the desk. There’s a hidden compartment. You will find more instructions there.” Underneath the note was a key. Her head pounding, Miranda opened up the bottom drawer. It had some files in it, but she moved them aside, and voilà!
There it was. A keyhole. With shaky hands, Miranda picked up the key and slid it into the hole. It fit perfectly. She turned it and heard gears cranking. Once she turned it all the way, the desk popped open. She leaped back in surprise. In front of her sat a life sized framed photograph of a weasel. Not a literal weasel, but a guy who had weasel-like qualities. She decided she definitely wouldn’t want to meet him in real life. She was about to call for one of the guards when the picture moved! She shook her head and looked at it again. Yes, it had definitely moved. Miranda decided to trust her gut instinct.
“Hello?” she said hesitantly.
“The Minister of Magic will see you now.” Miranda flinched but stayed in her spot. The picture frame folded back into the desk. From behind her she heard a man clearing his throat She turned around and saw a tall, regal looking man who was wearing the strangest of getups. He wore a pair of capri jeans and a purple and green flannel shirt, which was covered by a robe that looked like it could be purchased at a costume store.
“Hello. I am Eachanabus Scren,” the man claimed. Miranda burst out laughing.
“ Are you serious? What kind of name is Eachanabus Scren?”
“It is my name, and it would do you well not to tease it.” Eachanabus wore a stern expression.
“I’m sorry, I just, yeah, sorry. Do you have any nicknames I can call you by? Echanubus is quite the mouthful.”
“Yes. My friends call me Abus” Miranda wasn’t sure that she was Eachanubus’s friend.
“Thank you. Now, the obvious question. How did you get here? Miranda started circling Abus as if they were in some weird verbal duel.
“Oh, that was simple. Previous ministers installed that picture in here many years ago. It alerts me when you’re ready to see me, and the then I can just apparate.” Abus sat down in a chair on the other side of the room.
“Okay. That makes sense. My next question- are you trying to harm the United States?
Miranda questioned suspiciously.
“What? No. Madame president, I can assure you, the Ministry and the United States government have a long history of collaboration. Ruining such a relationship would only be detrimental.” Abus motioned to Miranda to sit down.
“What is the ministry? Is it some sort of terrorist group?” Miranda was getting ready to call to the security guards.
“If you’ll allow me, I can either show you a video guide of the Ministry of Magic and the wizarding world, or I can take you there and show you. Usually, muggles are not allowed anywhere near the wizarding world, but you are the president, so you have special authority.”
“The wizarding world? Are you crazy? Security! Security!” Abus quickly put a hand over her mouth and pulled out a wand. He waved the wand a few times and it said, in Miranda’s voice,
“Never mind! False alert!” Miranda gasped in a combination of shock, surprise, and denial.
“Believe me, Miranda, you’ll thank me later. Now, video tour or real- time tour?”
“Um, video tour,” Miranda stammered. Half an hour later, she was introduced to the basic ins and outs of the wizarding world.
“So there are… wizarding schools?”
“Yes, at least eleven throughout the whole world.”
“But Hogwarts. Hogwart is the main one.”
“I wouldn’t say the main one necessarily, but it is the only school you need to know about. You see, many years ago there was a battle on the Hogwarts grounds. A dark wizard named Voldemort fought against a 17 year old boy- Harry Potter. Harry died, a loss that is still felt through the wizarding world to this day. We actually have a whole holiday to remember him. Anyways, Harry Potter died, and everyone thought that he took Voldemort with him. But I never believed that. And when I became minister I tried to convince the people that he was still around. Unfortunately, I was right. It turned out that Voldemort had one final horcrux. Hogwarts itself.” Abus immediately interrupted the question he knew she was about to ask.
“I’ll explain horcruxes some other time. But Voldemort came back out of hiding and kidnapped Henry Potter, Harry Potter’s son.”
“I thought you said that Harry Potter died when he was 17?” Miranda asked.
“He did. But we both know that many people are… sexually active by the age of 17. You know it better than I do because I know for a fact that you were.”
Miranda stared blankly at him for a few minutes. This whole thing was a lot to swallow, but now he knew about her sex life, too? A bit creepy.
“Um, yeah. So, Henry Potter?” Abus chuckled, kind of pedophile-like, Miranda thought. But she knew that he was telling the truth. It may have been 2016, but graphics like the ones in the orientation video just weren’t possible.
“Voldemort kidnapped him, and the Dark Mark was left over his house. His mother, Ginny was distraught. She was at a party that night, and had left him alone by himself. He’s eighteen years old, certainly old enough to be home alone. But when she came back, he was gone. We have questioned all of the old death eaters,” Miranda looked puzzled at the term.
“Voldemort’s followers.” Abus clarified. Miranda nodded her head. Abus continued.
“And the one thing they all seem to say is that his long term goal was to conquer America. It’s the best lead we have. All of our evidence leads us to believe that he is in your country.”
“Did President Herby know about this?” Miranda questioned quietly.
“Indeed. He was our most trusted contact in America. We believe that his death was actually the fault of Voldemort’s. The airplane he was riding showed no signs of problems until it just suddenly fell out of the sky. Also, the dark mark was over his plane when it was found.”
Abus’s voice got very quiet near the end.
“Poor Tim. He was a good man.” Miranda stated.
“Yes, he was. But now it’s your job to take his place. President Herby was popular with the people, and I believe that you are even more so. Use the power of the people to find Henry Potter. He is the only one with alive with Harry Potter’s blood in him and therefore the only one who can stop Voldemort. In the words of President Herby, good luck.”
To be continued...
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This is a twisted version of what I imagine would happen if Harry Potter died. If I get enough positive comments, I will write another chapter. I will also publish this on fanfiction.com.