molly2

... room 25 of the shed I had apparently never been in until now was full of boxes, boxes, boxes. Every corner was filled with boxes of all shapes, sizes and made up of all sorts of materials. The only place that did not have boxes was the corner ol' hagrid had been in, and in the center of the room, where a small lightbulb hung off yellowed string. And it smelled funny, too. Like a bunch of Cheese rats had crawled into the walls, nibbled on their tails a bit, and died. A few of the boxes were shaking a bit. (And Giants burst out of them], (Then suddenly one of the boxes bursted open.) I was a bit scared to open the ones that were shaking. I turned to ask the mailman what he thought of all this, but he was nowhere to be seen. Near the spot where he'd been standing previously, there was the oldest, smallest, most ragged, weathered and filthy box I'd ever seen. I picked up the box. Immediately the whole room began swirling. Seconds later I was standing in a dewy meadow, with an orange sky and red grass and blue-black flowers. The distinct smell of frog slime hung in the air.