Nine-year-old Corina Payton sat at her desk in the very center of Room 105 on the first floor of Robert E. Lee Elementary in a peaceful suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. It was two fifty-five in the afternoon on a warm, sunny September Thursday in the year 2008. Corina kicked her small, sneakered feet against the metal basket meant for keeping books which was attached underneath the blue plastic chair of her desk. She slouched over her desk and leaned her chin on her hand, letting her dark head slump and her hand pull at her skin to give her a smashed sort of bored expression.
Corina stared blankly at the front of the room, where her teacher was writing a list of history dates on the board. Glancing to her left, Corina saw her neighbour, a tall, blonde girl named Leslie, take a cell phone from her jean’s pocket and start texting someone underneath her desk. Behind Leslie, a small, black boy named Jacob was doodling on a scrap sheet of paper. Corina could see a dragon, a race car and what was making out to be a spaceship. As Corina watched, he drew the spaceship landing in a cornfield and two Martians appearing next to it, smiling and waving.
Above, below and around her teacher’s monotonous voice, Corina could hear the three fans in the classroom, all blasting at high speed, barely shifting the stiflingly warm air in the room. Every window was wide open and the flies could be heard buzzing and bumping into the screens repeatedly. The clock on the wall by the door was ticking. The heat was beginning to give Corina a headache. The blood in her head was pulsing against her skull. Corina closed her eyes.
A sharp prick of pain roused Corina from her half-stupor. Jolting awake, she heard a small clatter on the floor nearby. Corina looked down to see a pencil rolling away from her desk. It stopped at the leg of Leslie’s chair. Corina looked behind her to see Jacob grinning and mouthing, “You were asleep!” Corina glared at him. After a quick glance to make sure the teacher’s back was turned, Corina bent down and picked up the fallen pencil. She set it on her desk and rolled it back and forth absently with one finger.
Corina heard movement behind her. A moment later, Leslie reached over and tapped Corina on the shoulder. Corina glanced at her. Leslie jerked her head behind her, gesturing towards Jacob. Corina turned around obligingly. Jacob pointed at his pencil, asking for it back. Corina smiled blithely and shook her head, still rolling the pencil back and forth, back and forth on the desk. It was Jacob’s turn to glare. He slid down in his chair sulkily, frowning at the half-finished astronaut on the moon on his paper. He leaned over and fished in his book bag for another writing utensil.
Corina tested her coordination by tugging on a piece of her short, black hair, while continuing to roll the pencil back and forth. The yellow-painted wood clicked against the plastic on the desk.
Clickclickclickclickclick…clickclickclickclickclick…
Brrrrring!
Corina jolted upright in her seat as all around her chairs scraped against the floor as her classmates joyously heralded the ringing of the bell that announced the arrival of an afternoon of freedom. No one heeded the teacher’s voice as he feebly tried to hold onto his last threads of authority over the liberated students, shouting, “Class dismissed!” Corina flipped the pencil at Jacob; it landed on his desk with a clatter. He stuffed it in his bag with a grin. Corina zipped up her own bag and slung it over her shoulder, joining the throng of children crowding the corridor outside.
Wide awake again, Corina nimbly squeezed her slender body through the bottleneck of students at the doors and escaped onto the wide, shallow steps outside. A quick glance around the parking lot showed Corina that she would be taking the bus today; her father had not come to pick her up as he sometimes did. Corina walked around the corner to the bus lot and boarded bus No. 12 which would make a stop on the street where Corina lived.
Once seated on the bus, Corina opened her bag again and took out a paperback book. Shifting sideways in her seat and leaning against the window as the bus bumped along, Corina travelled back in time to make friends with a young slave girl named Clara who worked on a plantation in 1860, not far from where Corina lived in 2008. Clara’s joys and struggles kept Corina occupied until the bus ground to a halt on the corner of Corina’s street. Her nose still in her book, Corina hopped off the bus and walked half a block to the small townhouse where she lived with her father. Corina dug her key out of her bag and let herself in. She got two steps into the entryway before she stopped suddenly and turned back toward the door. Rolling her eyes a bit at her father’s cautiousness, Corina put her hand against the deadbolt on the door and said clearly, “Obfirmo.”
No sooner had Corina dropped her bag on the kitchen table and left her shoes underneath a chair, than the empty fireplace in the sitting room next door flared up suddenly with a whoosh. Corina looked over to see the green flames flicker out as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind a scrap of yellowed parchment which fluttered through the air to settle on the rug. Corina walked over and picked it up. It read,
“Corina,
I have to work late tonight. Eat a healthy snack. Be sure you lock the door. There’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge. Heat it up in the microwave. Do not use the stove. Do your homework. You can use the phone after you do your homework, but do not touch the Floo powder. I’ll be home as soon as I can.
Love,
Daddy.”
Corina sighed and glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece. Four o’clock. Corina’s stomach growled. She climbed onto the kitchen counter and began rummaging about in the cabinets, looking for a snack. A few minutes later, Corina retired to the sitting room with a package of strawberry-filled Chocolate Frogs and her book.
Corina was an avid reader, and once she got into the meat of a good book, nothing short of a small explosion could jolt her back to reality. So it was that six-thirty found Corina sitting in the exact same spot, chocolate frogs long gone. She sat on the edge of her seat, eyes racing faster and faster over the page, until she shut the book with a long sigh.
Poor little Clara….Corina could almost see her heroine struggling not to cry as she was told she would be sold to a neighbouring plantation, separated from her family and friends and sent away alone to live with strangers. Corina blinked back tears. And the worst part is it’s not just a story. Those things really did happen. Wringing her hands anxiously, Corina got up from her chair and went down the hall to her father’s room.
Connor Payton’s bedroom was decorated with an odd mix of wizard and Muggle culture: along with his purple and orange school pennant from the Southeast Wizards’ Institute and a poster of the Atlanta Bishops Quidditch team, there were also several posters for basketball and football. Connor’s room looked more like a teenager’s bedroom than an adult’s. The photographs on the dresser, however, told a different story.
Like the wall posters, the photos were a mix of Muggle and wizarding: there was a still photo of day-old Corina lying in her bassinet, and a moving one of two-year-old Corina swinging on a swing set at the park. Most of the photographs were of Corina, with her father or by herself, but Corina reached for a small wooden picture frame on the far right-hand side, of a young man and woman holding hands and smiling at the camera. They were motionless.
Corina traced the woman’s face, and then set the frame down. That was not what she was here for. Corina crossed the room and opened her father’s closet. Standing on tip-toe on the edge of his bed and reaching with all her might, Corina clung to the top shelf of the closet and grabbed a small, square box. Launching herself back to the bed with effort, Corina set the box on her father’s pillow and opened it. Inside were all manner of trinkets Connor had collected over the years and could never bring himself to get rid of: foreign currency from traveling, his class ring from high school, his wedding ring. Corina dumped the contents of the box unceremoniously onto the bedspread and fiddled with the corner of the lining inside the box. The lining lifted to reveal a silver key no bigger than a paper clip.
Corina replaced the trinkets and the box and, key grasped firmly in her fist, went back to the sitting room. There she pushed an armchair to the bookshelf by the fireplace and clambered onto its back, gripping the edge of the top shelf. On this shelf were kept the matches, the Floo powder, and other fascinating items that Corina was not allowed to touch. Pushing these aside, she found another wooden box smaller than the trinket box and completely invisible from the ground. After returning to ground level and without bothering to replace the armchair, Corina walked carefully back to her father’s room. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she turned the silver key in the lock and whispered, “Patefacio.” Lock and key began to emit a faint bluish glow. Corina said carefully, “Six, fourteen, ninety-seven.” The lock opened with a small click. Corina grinned and carefully removed the object of all her efforts: a silver hourglass on a chain.
Connor had never told Corina where he had gotten his Time-Turner; indeed, he had never told Corina that he owned one. She had found it one winter on a hunt for hidden Christmas presents. The tiny box at first had not looked promising, but the silver lock intrigued Corina, and she was determined to look inside. She had searched high and low for the key. Nearly at the end of her patience she had discovered the box of trinkets. She rifled through it and, upon coming up empty, shook the box upside-down in frustration. Much to her surprise, the key had tumbled out, and Corina had eagerly attempted to unlock the box, unsuccessfully. The key clearly fit, but the lock did not open.
Corina soon realised that this was a lock much like that on her front door. Magical objects not requiring wands to operate were a recent invention, useful for at-home convenience. Corina was quite incorrigible once she set her mind to something, and she dug out an old Latin dictionary that had been her grandfather’s. She tried every unlocking sort of word she could find until one worked and the bluish glow appeared. The lock still would not open. Now Corina was angry, and it made her even more determined. There must have been a password. But what was it? Corina had tried everything: her father’s name, her own, her mother’s, all their birthdates, Connor’s school, his workplace, her parents’ wedding date…and the lock clicked open, revealing its treasure. Corina knew what it was because she had a book on great wizarding inventions, and the Time-Turner was one of them. Thus, Corina was very careful not to turn the hourglass as she settled on the bed, but she stared at it in fascination.
Corina slipped the chain ever so cautiously around her neck, dreaming she could go back in time and save the slaves from their cruel masters using her magical powers. Corina could see herself brandishing a wand, leading an army of slaves as they threw down their tools and marched out of the fields, their overseers paralysed by Corina’s power.
A door opened. “Corina?”
Corina gasped and glanced wildly at the open door of the bedroom. Hide! She had to hide it. Corina looked down at the silver necklace in her hand…and froze. The tiny hourglass was spinning of its own accord. Faster and faster it spun, and Corina could feel the panic rising. She heard her father’s voice calling her name again.
“Corina? I’m home. Where are you? Corina?”
“Daddy!” Corina screamed. She yanked the chain away from her, trying to break it, but it was too strong, and the Time-Turner was still spinning.
“Corina, what’s wrong?” Connor bolted into the doorway. “No! Corina!” he shouted in horror.
“Daddy, help!” Corina stretched out her hand to her father, still holding the whirling hourglass. Connor caught her hand, and the world began to spin. Corina clung to her father’s hand for dear life. “Daddy, I didn’t mean to…”
And everything went black.
Go Down, Moses by Luna_Lover
Chapter Notes: Mods: even though this is a prologue, I'd like to count it as one of my three chapters, as it meets the word count. :)
Chapter Endnotes: A huge thank you goes out to my beta, Emma, especially for helping me with some technical glitches in this chapter. Please drop me a line in that little box down there and tell me what you think! Thank you!