The girl who chose

Chapter one

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter as much as I would love to be able to say that I don't own any characters other than Theodora potter and my own Ocs, I also only own my twists to the plot, not the original one. But please don't steal my work because while I don't own Harry Potter I own my own parts in the story. Sorry for the ranting I hate reading these in books myself.

I'm undecided for who Thea shall be paired with.

'Pastletongue'

Mild TW for mentions of abuse.

A few tears leave my eyes sorrowfully. Pain is coursing through my entire body, scars litter my back and have already opened up more times than any child or adult should ever experience.

Sweat fills the blanket beneath, tears wet my oily hair, blood fills my abused clothes.

I'm sorry. Whoever I upset, whoever I made hate me I'm just sorry. I don't know what I could of possibly down to deserve this torment but I'm still sorry.

My back stings in a serving reminder of what that of my latest punishment. I was caught looking out of the window while I was meant to be cooking.

I also had a bit of water from the tap and they said unless I pay for the water bill I'm not having any. So it's my fault really I already knew about the rules and I broke them. I knew I'd get punished, it just really hurts.

Being in a cupboard that wouldn't pass environmental protection Standards for rats to safely live in really doesn't help my situation.

Neither does sharing it my brother. Harry is comfortably sleeping if not a bit sweaty. It's the 23rd of June and I'm basking in the last few moments of peace before I'm dragged into the nightmare that the universe named reality.

Gentle tapping of hug heels against polished marble floors is heard through the house and is coming closer to me. I huff a sigh.

3. 2. 1.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"Up get up now it duddykins birthday and everything needs to be perfect,"I sigh and wake Harry up, and so the nightmare of Dudley birthday begins.

"You boy get the bacon on and don't burn anything or else, and you girl go make Vernon his tea," is the creating we get when by our aunt petunia, who was swinging her ladle that, she was previously using, in our direction.

Her voice was hard and her eyes were full of hate. What did we ever do to that horse faced bitch?

"Yes aunt petunia," we say in sinc causing her glare to harden knowing it freaks her out when we do that.

Before I could ponder any more on the subject we are rushed along into the kitchen.

I limp the whole way there my back screaming in defiance.

I smirk to myself when I hear Dudley wailing like a baby. I carry uncle vernons tea through and set to help Harry with the food.

"What do you think he'll complain about this year?" Me and Harry have bets each year for as long as I can remember. The bet being what Dudley will complain about this year. Last year it was having too many of the same brand. The year before they wasn't big enough. The year before he didn't get the newest television for his room.

You get the gist he's a fucking nightmare on his birthday more than ever.

"I think he'll complain about having better things last year."

"I think he'll complain about less this year,"

"How many are there?" Here we go.

"36 we counted them ourselves,"