Shattered

One

December 26, 1995

I like rainy days. Or I used to like rainy days, until the Manor came along with it's long, twisting, windowless corridors that revealed nothing of the outside world. Now, the pitter-patter only serves as a reminder of the old days, with Dad. Sometimes, I can almost hear his voice. Like now, he would be saying: "Kali, look at the rain. Look at how even the sky cries out against the broken world. It is fair, they say. There is nothing less fair than life. If you cannot learn that, you cannot learn to kill." He is standing, looking out the window forlornly, turning around when- the doors burst open.

"Come on, KK. Time to go." The atmosphere in the room went cold in an instant. He always invites me like this, impromptu and sudden, with no hint that he wants me along. "I'm busy." "With what?" "Staring out the window. I'm very concentrated, so if you could please leave without me I-" "You need to come." Something in the tone of his voice changes. Dad taught me very early on how to read emotion. "Showing emotion is the greatest mistake your enemy can make. A sliver of a smile can be the difference between an ambush and an unexpected dodge," he'd explain. And Draco is giving off some real nervous energy. "Okay. I'm almost done." He visibly calms at this. The tension in the room is gone.

"Hey, Dray-" "I told you not to call me that." "I'll stop when you stop." He scoffs and his jaw clenches, grabbing my arm and dragging me away. I bite my tongue to stop myself from letting out a yelp of surprise. "What do you think you're doing?" It's not usually like this. He'll take me along to Hogwarts once in a while, but I'm an outsider; I'm stuck standing in the hall watching people mill around me going towards classes, chatting about gossip I've never heard and will never hear again. Until now. "You are a distant cousin. We took you in a few months ago and we took pity on your request to go to Hogwarts. You make up the rest."

A fury rises up inside me. The power comes with it, something I have not felt in years rearing its ugly head as it surges through me. I am going to KILL him. I breathe in, getting ready for the exhilarating blast, the snake striking its prey. Then the door opens. The power deflates inside of me when I see who is sitting in front of me: Albus Dumbledore. A new kind of rage has resurfaced, an old wound splitting open. I suddenly have a throbbing headache. "Hello, Mrs. Lestrange. Would you like a toffee?" I nod, afraid that if I speak the anger will drip from my tongue. I push it down slowly, with each breath. In, out. He conjures a toffee and offers it to me. I take it and put it in my pocket for later. In, out.

"Do you know how people are selected to attend Hogwarts?" I nod. I had been told by everyone since a young age that I could never go, that Dad would never come back. They were wrong. I clear my throat. If I don't speak he'll assume I'm shy. Then I won't be able to control my anger. "The moment someone is born, their name is written in a magical book." His eyes twinkle, like throwing a bone to a dog. I feel like I could throw up. "But you, Kalia, you are a very special case. I hear you want to go to Hogwarts?" I nod eagerly. "Yes, sir. Very much, sir." He laughs. "Very good!" How does he not detect the sarcasm in my voice?

"I would like you to attend right away. You have a lot of potential, Mrs. Lestrange." My fists clench for a moment before I will them to relax. "Call me Kali." I force a smile. Why won't he just leave? I'm so close to just screaming at him, but I have to hold out a bit longer. Draco watches from the corner of the room, sitting tensely next to Lucius and Narcissa. Dumbledore looks down at a watch that materializes on his wrist. His easygoing air dissipates, and his slight smile turns into a frown. "I really must be going. Thank you all so much for having me." And without warning, as suddenly as he appeared, Dumbledore disapparates.

December 27, 1995

It is strange how different a person Draco is around his parents. It's when I hate him most. He lavishes me, treating me with the highest honor like he is but a humble servant begging at my feet. If only that was all he was, instead of what he is, which is a privileged snob who is obviously jealous of me. So why can't he just act like that all the time? Probably because he's afraid of his father beating him. If I so much as said a word wrong, Dad beat me until I couldn't be beaten anymore. I survived, so can he.