Gryffindor Prologue
Breathing deeply, my eyes slowly open. My ears perk up; listening for what had woke me up. Screaming could be heard from down stairs. Probably mother, screaming at the house elves. I slowly sat up; my spine cracks in protest. I slide out of bed and looked at the mirror that hung from my doorway. Bruises were etched across my face; the most noticeable ones were on my face. I am the tiniest bit puzzled as I look out my window and see the darkness that filled the room, why would mother be screaming at the house elves at midnight? Footsteps pounded up to my room. The door slammed open and there was my said mother, Bridget Gryffindor.
“You!” Bridget growled out.
“Mom?” I asked quietly, suddenly a hand flew out and slapped me across the face.
“What did I tell you about calling me that?!?” She yelled pushing me down to the floor and hitting me into the hard, wood of the ground. “Now what do you say?” Bridget snarled.
“S-sorry, Mother.” I whimpered.
“Good, now come on!” she said as she pulled me down the stairs outside of my room; her grip making bruises on my arm. Yelling could still be heard but was growing louder and louder as we came down the stairs to the living room.
“Just give me your daughter, sir.” One voice yelled. “Your family won’t be hurt if you just give me your daughter.”
“Over my dead body, Fenir, You will only take her over my cold, dead, carcass. You filthy son of a —“
Bridget burst into the room where father, Nicholas Gryffindor, and a werewolf, Fenir Greyback, were having a shouting match. Bridget held me close to her, as if to protect me, and then threw me at Fenir’s feet.
“Bridge, honey, what are you doing?” Father asked Bridget.
“Getting rid of our dead weight, Nicholas.” She told him before she said to Fenir Greyback, “You can have the little freak.” Then she left, so she wouldn’t have to see her daughter getting killed by a monster.
Smirking, Fenir grabbed my arms. I tried my hardest not to wince, but a grimace had slipped through.
“Aw, is the ittle baby hurt?” Fenir taunted as he dragged me towards the door.
Suddenly, a vase came out of nowhere and smashed into the wall near Fenir’s head.
I could hear my father say, “Next time, I won’t miss.” As he reached for another one.
Snarling, Fenir stepped forward, dropping me to the ground. “Don’t mess with me!” He said before exploding into a mess of fur.
A large wolf launched itself at my father, attacking him.
“Dad!” I scream as I tried to help. But it was too late. As the wolf retreated I could see my father, a bloodied mess. The wolf headed towards me. I began to back up and screamed when it lifted its paw to me. I could feel its claws ripping my flesh on me, and the burning sensation as it pulled its claws away and gave me a look that said, I’ll be back, and fled the scene.
Ignoring the pain across the right side of my face. I ran to my father. “Dad, Dad, look at me!” I commanded him. “Dad, don’t leave me!” I felt hot tears fall down my face. Tears that haven’t fell since I was three. His fingers grazed my face, his eyes told me not to cry. His fingers traced the bruises on my face, as he asked, “Did Greyback do that?”
“No, dad.” I told him, “Bridget did.”
His eyes were completely shocked as he grasped my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, but I love you and remembered you are a Gryffindor, though and though.”
