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Yasmine Potter is many things. But an idiot is not one of them. She knew the Dursleys hated her, despite the fact she could never come up with a logical reason as to why they hated her.
They hated her freaky name, her abnormally bright green eyes, the caramel colour that rested upon her skin, and most of all, they hated the large jagged lightning scar that ran from the top left of her forehead to her right cheekbone.
But it was okay, for Yasmine hated them too. They kept her in a cupboard under the stairs as if she were a mere animal, but she was more, and she knew it – and she'll show them just who they've messed with.
It began at the tender age of four when she had been locked in her cupboard after a particularly bad beating, and she had hoped – wished for her injuries to go away. And to her astonishment, when she woke up – they were gone! And that's when she knew that she was destined for greatness and that she was better than these vermin that she was forced to live with.
Her relatives hadn't been too happy when she walked out of her cupboard scar-free, looking as if she hadn't been beaten the night before. That had earned her punishment of another beating and two weeks in the cupboard. From then on, she promised herself she would never make her injuries disappear completely. If she was going going to do this, she was going to do it right, which meant having to be sneaky.
From that day forth, every night in her cupboard, she would practice that feeling she had in her, force it to work, move – do anything! And she got good at it. Over time she started using it for small things, like, making the flowers in the garden bloom and look prettier. She loved flowers – she was named after one. It had taken her some time to learn her name. She hadn't known her name until she was five and sitting in class when the teacher called out her name, but she hadn't responded as she didn't know; she'd never been told. That had earned her time in the cupboard as it had made the Dursleys look bad, but she didn't care because she had a name! She had something that was hers, and only hers, and she would die before anyone took that away from her again.
She was five when she discovered she could speak with snakes, and she made sure she kept that away from the Dursleys, less she wanted to end up dead. They always hissed the weirdest things about a world of magic – of people like her. And she hated them. The whole lot of them, they had left her to die, here, with the Dursleys; all alone.
She had seen it coming, of course, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. She hated her relatives, and they hated her, but a small part of her deep down had always hoped that they at least cared for her. She was only a little girl with no family, helplessly looking for someone to love her in this big cruel world.
The Dursleys, her only family, abandoned her, alone in an orphanage with nothing but her name and date of birth. Yasmine Amara Potter, 31st July 1980, that's it, nothing more to add, that's all she had in the world. Not even the name of her parents. She was completely and utterly alone, with no one to care for or about her.
