Elle (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

1. Violet

When you're an orphan, events aren't often expected to emerge sunny-side-up, rather the unfortunate opposite. Not that being orphaned is all too difficult (I prefer to think of myself as a prodigy orphan- I've mastered the process of it all). The issue is that the world doesn't tend to turn clockwise, and people in general are often cruel. Exaggeration? I think not.
I was the perfect example of this mainly frowned upon philosophy. In 1981, two unlucky adults and one plucky youngster (said child being the one and only- me) were found in a crushed car at the base of a four story high cliff. It would be nice to say that the three of them had endured a long recovery and thrown back onto the rusty tracks of daily life, but then I'd be lying. The two adults were already dead upon their discovery (unidentified and ruthlessly mangled) and the little girl... she emerged from the crash with only one reminder of the fatal incident- a lightning scar on the left side of her collar bone.
Most visiting parents and other children believed that the scarring was just plain tragic, as it was only a constant reminder that yes- I was a parent less child with no money or friends. Poor, deprived Violet: the only orphan left without any definite age, name or parents. The truth is, though, I didn't come to know myself as either poor or even deprived (the food at St. Mary's Home for Girls wasn't exactly praise-worthy; it's better than starving). I'd grown up with freedom and in the end, that was all that mattered.
Most kids around the Hell Hole (a very creativity-lacking name for St. Mary's) spent their time sulking and complaining. Above all that, though, they hoped. The children hoped for a better living, a more loving environment and a family to stay with. And so, though I would've liked to separate myself from that group of frown-faced slugs that inched around the orphanage, I couldn't. At the core, we were all the same: kids stuck in a bad situation who wanted nothing but a ticket onto the departing train.
So maybe that was why, as I listened eagerly outside the headmistress' office, I was purely taken aback as I heard my own name being spoken. Ms. Skyes (or The Terminator, as we preferred to call her) wasn't known for caring about her children. At that thought, my immediate verdict was that either the police had come to fetch me (graffiti shouldn't be a crime; I did it all the time and I wasn't the criminal sort) or the impossible had been cleansed ruthlessly and emerged possible... Ms. Skyes could be in the process of an adoption.
"I swear, that girl is nothing but trouble!"
"Children ain't trouble, Ma'am, they're just a bit reckless is all," a deep, gruff voice slip out from under the door. "I know where Elle belongs, anyway. I'm sure they won't mind a bit 'o energy!"
"Excuse me, Mr.... Hagrid, but her name is Violet and I'll just hope that you're courteous enough to use her given name... especially in her presence!"
I frowned, pressing my ear even further against the hard wood of the door. Elle? I'd always been Violet! I liked Violet. It was soft and familiar.
"Please, Ms. Skyes, I just wanna see 'er!"
Hearing an exasperated groan and the fast clack of the headmistress' heels on the ground, I backed away from the door as quickly as I could, but was surprised when it didn't even open.
"Violet, this strange man would like to see you. I think he'd be very pleased if you'd retire from eavesdropping and show that beautiful face of yours!," her high-pitched voice came wafting through the air like the scent of a cake that was just a tad too sweet. I bit my lip and began immediately fidgeting with the tips of my fingers, the edges of my nails already shredded with past concentration. St. Mary's was a fairly large property that was usually bustling with children, but at that moment I felt more alone that I'd ever thought possible. My breath was the only sound I could hear now, just barely carrying across the dusty air. "Violet, darling, anytime now would be perfectly fitting!"
I rolled my set of irritatingly light green eyes and shoved the door open, treading across the office to a fading leather armchair.
"Good Godric," the voice came again, more delicate this time. I looked up, eyes nearly narrowed. "Elle, you're the spittin' image of yer mother!"
"Violet!," I corrected, my voice breaking stubbornly. It was then that I decided that I most definitely did not want to be within ten yards of this man who thought he could simply storm into my life and give me a new name. Not ever. "My name is Violet."
"Well...," he dug in the pockets of a brown, oversized trench coat determinedly, frowning slightly as he did so. "Here," the man grunted finally, holding out a very messily folded piece of paper, "that's the birth certificate. See? Elle Potter, born on July thirty-first, nineteen-eighty-one."
I gasped, hugging my knees to my chest like maybe I would be swept off the face of the planet if I didn't grab hold of something. The last thing you expected to hear around here was your last name. Even if you knew it, you never said it. Things just didn't work that way. "I don't have a last name," I forced out, gulping. "Never have."
"Well, now you do!," the large, hairy man grinned like I'd just won the lottery.
"I'm Violet, too," I added, scowling. "I've always been Violet. I have no age, no last name, a really old-fashioned first name, awful living space and no idea why I'm alive and my parents aren't. It's always been that way."
"It doesn't 'ave to be!," Mr. Hagrid beamed. "I have all the proof you'll ever need right 'ere! Yer fourteen, yer name is Elle Potter, and you 'ave one very alive broth-"
"Stop!," I screeched, suddenly noticing that I was standing tall, but not remember when I stood up. "I can stay here 'till I'm eighteen, right? As long as I'm underage I have the right to stay here just as long as I want! I don't have to go with you," I turned to Ms. Skyes, "right? I mean, I'm allowed to stay here?"
"I-," the small woman started to speak, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, then closed her mouth to gather her words. "What I'm thinking is... Aren't you just a little curious? Don't you want to meet your family, sweetie?"
I huffed, crossing my arms. "It's not 'sweetie' or 'darling'; I'm Violet. Anyways, you're the one who gave me the name! Use it!," I snapped.
"Yep," Hagrid clicked his tongue, nodding slowly, "exactly like 'er mother."
"See?," I gestured to him exasperatedly. "If my mother is so much like me then chances are I wouldn't want to meet her anyways! I'm an awful person!"
I'll have to admit that I was slightly offended when nobody denied this.
"Please, Vi?"
"It's Violet, Ms. Skyes," I growled.
"Alright, Violet," she said sternly, taking a threatening step towards me. "You can stay here as long as you want... unless somebody with the right authority kicks you out. And I assure you that I have the right authority." The silence that followed was deafening. "I want you to pack your things. Be downstairs in fifteen minutes." My right hand quivered ever so slightly, but I bit down and forced down whatever spare feeling I had left. I couldn't afford to misbehave now. It was either adoption or a whole other orphanage, which I wasn't prepared to cope with. "Preferable before the clock strikes midnight, Violet," she added sharply after a moment of silence.
"Yes, Ma'am," I shot the most intense glare I could at the strange man before stomping out of the office and up a very musty stairwell to the dormitories.
For the majority of my life, I'd been a peaceful child. Not remembering a thing about my parents helped what Ms. Skyes called "my developement" quite a bit. Without anyone or anything to look back on or compare to, the orphanage was like luxury to me. Now, however, here was a man who all of a sudden had all the knowledge I had ever craved. It was as if somebody had just thrown every positive feeling I'd ever built up over the years and smashed them all under a boot.
"What was that about?," asked an eager, gap-toothed pre-teen as I brushed past her on the stairwell. "I heard yelling!"
"Loud," agreed three-year-old Elena, who had a vocabulary consisting of only ten words.
"Where do you think you're going?," the janitor chortled at the sound of me clomping down the hall.
"To pack," I responded briskly.
"For what?"
"I'm leaving." A collective gasp swept around the entire upper floor of St. Mary's.
After a small pause, golden-haired Lila popped the question I assumed was running through all of their heads: "Who'd want you?"
I wish I could say that I was hurt by this comment, but then I'd be lying. "I was wondering that, too, Lila."
....
By the time a large pile of adoption papers had been signed, seals pressed and stern glances exchanged, Rubeus Hagrid still had absolutely no idea of the amount of anger coursing through my veins. He swept me away from St. Mary's without a second thought, putting his beefy arm around my shoulders as the door shut behind us like he'd been doing it his whole life. I winced but held down a very heavily-worded objection. Instead, I merely ducked away and let my small suitcase thump down the cement steps carelessly.
"Would you like ter know where we're goin'?," asked Hagrid obliviously, still a good yard or so behind me as we walked. Though the distanced seemed so close and suffocating at the moment, I attempted to imagine it as the Grand Canyon, forever separating me from any antagonistic forces.
"No," I gulped, brushing away the only tear I would allow to escape my eyelids. "And wherever it is, I hope you know that I don't want to go!"
I was satisfied as I heard the wave of shock engulf him, then aggravated as it broke over his head. "Yeah, you do! Hogwarts is the best magic school on Earth!"
"Magic," I raised a reddish eyebrow, turning around to stare him down. "You seriously believe in magic?"
"Well," the bearded man chuckled, "don't you?". I began walking once more.
"I used to, but I'm older now. I have a surplus store of reasons not to!"
"Er," he grunted from behind me, struggling to find words. "Well, has anything strange ever 'appened to you? Anything not supposed to 'appen?"
I rolled my eyes and scoffed, stomping a little harder on the cobblestones. There was no way...
Thinking back, however, a series of unusual occurrences always seemed to follow me wherever I went. When I had first entered elementary school, I recalled, five jars of pencils had simultaneously exploded when I received a C plus on my first official test. During my first orphanage transfer, I'd gone to sleep at St. Mary's and woken up at my past home, Sanderson's Children's Home... much to the surprise of both orphanage directors. Only two years ago, when Anna Spadafino drew a mustache on my lip in my sleep, obtuse red welts appeared all over her face.
"No," I seethed, lying right through my teeth. "Not ever!"
There was a small pause as we glided past a patch of burning oaks. They almost shimmered through their surroundings of emerald birches, chipping away at the normality.
"You positive?," Hagrid asked, eyes averted to the dazzling periwinkle sky.
I hesitated as I have one final, cautious answer, "Kinda." The strange man gave me a beady-eyed smile.
With that, I snatched one last glance of St. Mary's, now only a crooked brick building fading away in the distance, and resumed my steady pace.
Magic? What a curious idea.
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A/N: If you're here from WSP, then I beg you not to be disappointed in me :(. Yes, I am writing this from first person and using a classic HP fanfic plot line, but I just wanted to try it out... and I think it's going pretty well!
Please leave your thoughts in the comments; I appreciate constructive criticism!
Xoxo,
Rose