It was a cold, dark, windy night. The mighty warriors against the dark forces were falling. On the fateful day of January 21st, 2022, shrieks of pain and rage soared over the howls of the wind. Over one hundred members of the Auroral force were slowly being knocked down, one by one, as they were slain by the cold sharp blades of the Uproot -Eaters led by Lord Windemort. Their limbs fell and they toppled with quiet crashes in the dark hours of the night. With barely a crack heard over the shrieks of the wind, no one heard and no one saw those final brave, fatal moments.
The electricity flickered. With concern about the power that supported their lives and homes, most civilians gathered up their flashlights and went straight to bed. Except for a single weather app warning of high-speed winds, they had no idea of what was going to happen next. Drivers returning home in the early hours of the morning suddenly found their roads blocked, almost running into the fallen trees with the absence of light. Those who stayed up regardless of the wind saw mysterious bright flashes of colored electricity in the dark distance.
Lord Windemort descended upon the peaceful City of Trees and PHDs to destroy the Pottrees and their son, Hairy. The prophecy from Professor Treelawney destined that Hairy would destroy him, but he was determined to stop this future from ever occurring. With a blast of black wind, he landed in the Pottrees’ clearing near midnight.
The parents fell. Lord Windemort blasted away Lily Pottree from Hairy’s clay container and cast the Tornado Bornado curse one last time. But when the curse hit the seedling, it rebounded. A flash of bright green, a final, desperate gust of wind, and Windemort disappeared without a breeze. Little Hairy was left with a lightning scar upon his trunk, with no clue of what had happened that fateful night.

Upon morning the next day, everyone ran out of their homes and clearings, assessing and discovering the damage to their homes and families. The corpses of the fallen warriors had to be taken away, with the ones blocking the major pathways disappearing without a trace in a day. On that bright, sunny Saturday, one could almost believe that nothing had happened. Except, of course, for the trees in shambles, with their roots ripped out of the earth and their trunks and branches splintered on impact. Enormous branches were torn off and the leaves scattered across the earth painted the picture of an after-war zone. Only one tree was left untouched — Hairy Pottree, the Tree Who Lived.