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Warm springtime sun shone brightly on the expansive grounds of Richmond Park. A father-daughter duo stood by the cycling trail, with a petite bicycle between them, its pink tassels swaying gently in the wind.
Dora Tonks, with honey blonde hair to match her father’s, strapped her new white helmet to her head, even if it made her look like the mushrooms that grew in the forest behind her house.
“Are you sure you’re ready to take the training wheels off, sweetheart?” Ted crouched down to meet Dora’s gaze.
Dora scrunched her nose up at her father. “I can do it! I’m ready!”
“It’s a new bicycle. Why don’t you ride it back and forth on the path with the wheels, and then–”
“No!” Dora pouted. “I can do it!”
Ted chuckled and tapped her helmet. “You’re just like your mummy, you know that?”
Dora swung her leg over the saddle of the bicycle, thrilled with its newness. She was finally big enough for a new bike–one for a growing girl, instead of a baby–and it was outfitted with a pretty wicker basket, pink tassels hanging from the handlebars, and a shiny white coat of paint on the frame. She had chosen it herself and she was ready to take it out for a spin.
“Alright, Dora,” said Ted, while using a Muggle tool to unscrew one of the training wheels, “one’s off. Stay steady.”
Dora kept her tiptoes on the ground and waited while the other wheel came off. She felt wobbling beneath her. It was the kind of wobble that made her stomach flutter, the way she felt before she leapt across the stream that was just too deep to wade through, but not wide enough to stop her from exploring the forest.
“Can I go yet?” Dora asked, itching to take off with her new bike.
Ted came around to hold the handlebars in place. “Put your feet on the pedals. I’ll hold you for a little while, and then you can go, okay?”
The bike teetered to each side as Dora put her trainers on the pedals, but her father’s safe grip kept her from falling on the gravel path.
“Ready?”
Dora grinned and leaned forward. “Ready!”
She pedaled right away, but her father pushed her back.
“Not so fast. Slow and steady while we learn.”
Ted led Dora down the path, taking his hands off the handlebars every few minutes, letting her totter ahead. When she wobbled too much, he held her closer, but as she got used to the feeling of balance, she tried going faster.
“Dad, I can keep going!” Dora shouted. “I want to go fast! ”
There was an inviting bend around the path that led to a forested area. Dora wanted to go on an adventure, to see what woodland creatures awaited her there. As it was the spring, fawns were being born, and they were simply too cute to miss.
“Dora, wait!”
But Dora pretended not to listen. She pedaled as fast as her legs could take her, finding that when she went fast, she couldn’t feel out of balance. Wind whooshed on either side of her. Her hair flew behind her as a fragrant, flowery scent tickled her nose, just like the honeysuckle and daffodils her mother liked.
It wasn’t like being on a broomstick, but it was close, and better yet, Dora could pedal on her own, without needing her mother or father to keep her from falling. (They said that with her clumsiness they didn’t want to risk the Anti-Falling Charms from failing, but Dora thought that was just a silly excuse to keep her from flying all by herself.)
After an exhilarating twist around a large tree, Dora let the pedals go and grinned as the cool air under the canopy of leaves evaporated the sweat from her brow. She knew she’d be in trouble for going so far and so fast, but it was like she was in an enchanted forest, like the people in her fairytales.
The snapping of twigs caught her attention as she slowed down to catch her breath. She looked around, searching for the rabbits or even the deer who could be waiting for her in the trees, and–
“OW!”
The bike crashed into a tree and Dora was flung off the bike. Tears flooded her eyes as the searing pain of something sprained–or maybe even broken–radiated from her left arm.
“Dad!” she wailed. “Daddy? Dad!”
CRACK .
Dora jumped; a branch fell from above, only inches away from her bicycle. Suddenly, the enchanted forest didn’t seem so magical; the dark shadows were all she could see.
“Dad?” Dora looked behind her, but her father hadn’t turned around the bend yet. “Daddy?”
A whoosh came from between the trees.
“Mummy?” Dora gasped. “Is that you?”
But as soon as she spotted her mother’s presence, she was gone.
“Mummy?” Dora said, worried, and trying to lift herself off the ground. “Is that you?” The throbbing in her arm was bad, but not unmanageable.
Snap .
Dora jumped back just in time; the branch had landed in the spot she had been laying in.
“ Nymphadora ,” a familiar voice called. It was like her mother’s, but not quite. It was like a song, a whisper on the wind, so enchanting–
“DORA!”
Dora whipped around and found her father, breathless, panting, and with his wand out.
“Dad!” Dora cried, as Ted rushed to her side and waved his wand over her dirtied clothes. He immediately spotted the strange angle of her left arm, fixed it with an Episkey, and moved onto the cuts and scrapes Dora hadn’t noticed she’d gotten from the tumble.
“Dora, how could you!” He admonished. “You scared me half to death! You were gone! You can’t go alone–”
“But I wasn’t alone,” she protested. “Mummy, she came–”
“What?” Ted’s eyes narrowed. “You saw your mother?”
“She was there–” Dora pointed to a space between two shadowy trees. “And then she moved. The branches came down, Dad, she must have saved me!”
Ted’s face was drained of all color. He looked over his shoulder, and putting a finger over his mouth to indicate Dora should be quiet, cast a Protego charm over them.
“Dora, we have to get out of here–”
“But Dad–”
“ Accio bike! ”
The bike flew toward them, and Ted took it under his arm. Dora didn’t even realize when he grabbed her right hand, but without warning the air in her lungs was being constricted, she was suffocating, everything was wrong–
BLECH.
Dora was in tears again as the contents of her stomach emptied themselves on the grass. Through bleary eyes, she saw the outline of her parents’ yellow front door, the fluffy hydrangeas on either side of the walk, and heard the neighbor’s dog barking.
“Up we go, sweetheart,” she heard her father say. Dora wasn’t on the ground anymore, but in her father’s arms, and she was being brought inside the house, even as she spilled more of her own sick on his shirt.
“D-D-Dad–”
“Shh, shh,” Ted soothed. “It’s okay. We Apparated. I’m sorry, I know you haven’t done that before–”
A fresh stream of vomit came out of Dora’s burning throat. Her father set her down on the sofa, casting quick charms to make the vomit disappear, to clean the mess, and to bring a number of vials from the potions cupboard to Dora’s side.
“N-no–”
The vial Ted had opened was thick and pink. It was a sure way to get rid of ‘tummy troubles,’ but Dora hated it.
“Just a little, Dora–”
“No!”
“Hold your nose,” Ted sighed, “and I’ll bring you some chocolate to eat right after.”
Dora made him bring the chocolate before she put the pink potion into her mouth–as she’d been tricked in the past–and after a long sip, Dora could finally nibble on the sugary chocolate that her mother only gave her on ‘special’ occasions.
“Where’s Mum?” Dora asked, wondering if Andromeda would come in and find all the chocolate gone.
“She’s with her friends,” Ted replied. He had Dora propped up with a pillow, while he was on his knees, searching her face and arms for further injury. “You thought you saw her in the park?”
“She said my name, but it wasn’t like Mummy, and she had darker hair–”
The little color that had returned to Ted’s face vanished. His bright blue eyes were filled with worry and he looked up above them, murmuring something Dora couldn’t make out.
“Dad, what’s wrong?”
The smile on Ted’s face didn’t look right.
“Maybe it was your imagination playing tricks on you,” he said slowly, but Dora frowned. She had seen a woman, heard her voice, her name. Ted kissed Dora’s left arm, where she’d broken it. “Nothing you need to worry about, except the time-out you’ll be getting for riding your bike all alone.”
But the smile on Ted’s face wasn’t right. Nothing about the afternoon was right, except those moments when Dora was flying.
She shuddered to think if her mother had been at the park; the bicycle would have vanished into thin air.
“Are you going to tell Mummy?” Dora said quietly. “What if she doesn’t let me ride my bike again?”
Ted closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “I’ll tell your mother you disobeyed. Your bike is safe, but only if you follow directions. If not–”
“I know,” Dora muttered, as tears welled up again.
It was like the time she tried to fly her toy broomstick off the roof; it would’ve worked if it hadn’t been for the wind. Dora broke her legs and the toy broomstick was never seen again.
“What matters is that you’re safe and sound,” Ted said. He kissed her arm again and rubbed it gently. “The world isn’t always safe for little witches like you.”
“L-like my stories?”
Ted nodded. “Sometimes, sweetheart, the wicked witches of the woods are real.”
Dora inhaled sharply. “A witch wanted to eat me?”
“No, Dora, of course not,” said Ted, although his reassuring tone didn’t make Dora feel any better. “Your mind played tricks on you. I don’t want you to be scared. I’ll always keep you safe, as long as you stay close. Do you understand?”
There was something in the way he spoke that made Dora think it wasn’t all in her head. She had seen a woman. She had heard her voice.
Maybe if she hadn’t strayed from her father’s watchful eye, the woman in the forest wouldn’t have scared her.
“Okay, Dad,” Dora agreed. “I’ll stay close next time.”
But while Ted hugged her, Dora couldn’t shake the newfound worry that settled in her very bones.
If wicked witches were real, who had she seen?
And why had no one told her before now?