The Other Potter: Book One

Chapter One: Welcome to my Life.

Hello to old readers, new readers, and anyone else who might stumble here. My name is Lucy. I don't own the rights to JK Rowling's work, but this is a fanfic, which is legally okay. 

[Chapter One: Welcome to My Life. Edited.]

I heard something break upstairs and stood against the far wall of the room, my heart pounding against my chest. I knew what was coming. It was my fault something had broken – even if it was in another room to me. I had never understood why, but it was fact. My father taught me that.

Malfoy Manor was the only home I had ever known, and my father the master. He liked rules, procedure, regulations, and hard work. I always tried to work to his standards, but I always fell short. No matter what I did, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. He always reminded me how everything he did was for my benefit, to make me stronger. For the most part, I believed him.

My only friend was Dobby, the House-Elf of the manor. He was treated as well as I ever was. He hated it here, though he dared not use those words. He would only be free if one of his owners gave him an item of clothing, but they never would. They planned to work both of us to death. I tried to be okay with that.

I heard a crack as someone apparated outside my door. Pressing myself closer to the wall, I hoped, with desperation, to blend in with it. A long-held dream I had, was to disappear entirely. To not exist.

The door croaked as it opened, and I forced my eyes upward. My father's towering blonde figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. His face was cast in shadows except for his eyes. They were glowing grey, shimmering with malice.

"Again, squib, you've broken things, again," he spoke in an almost whisper, but I flinched as though he'd shouted. I shrunk further into the cold stone wall as he advanced on me. "How dare you? Sending your mother into fits of anxiety because you demand to attend Hogwarts!"

Hogwarts.

I'd heard of it from Dobby. It was a school, run by a man with a very silly name, but a very kind heart. Dobby told me I'd get my letter and I'd be free from this place... But I knew I was a squib, like my father often told me.

My words cracked in my dry mouth. "I don't want to. I want to stay here."

"You disgust me! You think you can deceive me? You are a freak! An embarrassment! You are a pitiful squib and mark my words, you are not going." He raised his wand and against my will I started to cry. "You know I hate tears, yet you cry at my feet like a pathetic animal. You never learn, do you? Crucio!"

Knives were tearing at my body. My skin was alight, yet I felt as though I had been frozen at the same time. More tears escape my eyes. Crying means you're weak. I was pathetic. My head snapped back and hit the wall; my skin scraped the concrete floor. I couldn't fight it anymore and I screamed. My father laughed in satisfaction.

"Crucio," The pain ceased and I sobbed on the floor, my body aching. "Never dare make demands of me again. Life isn't about what you want, squib, and it never will be."

An explosion of sound erupted overhead and my mother's voice came from the doorway, laced with fear. "They've come, Lucius."

"I'll hold them off – you get her out of here, dump her anywhere, it doesn't matter."

The door shut with a snap, but his voice was drifting through it.

"My daughter? I don't know where she is —–-"

There were hands around my waist. I was forced through a tight tube. My head was going to explode.

"My darling girl," She placed me on the ground. "Don't tell them anything. They want to hurt you. They don't care about you. Not like your father and I do. You can only trust us. Your father and I will protect you."

"D-don't go," I grabbed her hand but she shook me off.

"It's not about what you want. It never is."

I heard the crack as she disapparated, and tried to focus on my surroundings. It smelt damp and it was dark, but there was something pungent and Earthy about the air. It was freezing. My body was weak. Cold shivers ran through my body and my teeth chattered against my will.

There was noise and movement, but my brain would not focus, as the pounding set in – a side effect of the Cruciatus curse was horrendous migraines.

A shout. Dark boots approaching.

"Are you okay?"

No. They couldn't have asked that. My mother told me that these weren't good people. They didn't care about me.

I felt their hand reach down and touch my forehead and I attempted to pull away but my strength failed me. Everything failed me. The world was fading fast. All I saw was black.

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