Mysterious Girl (Harry Potter Fan Fiction)

My Life

Heyya everyone :) This is my first fan fic so I hope you like it :) pleasee COMMENT and VOTE if you like it, I would really appriciate it!

I DO NOT OWN THE HARRY POTTER WORLD! THE HARRY POTTER WORLD BELONGS TO J.K ROWLING!

No copyright intended in any of this.

WARNING = Some of the chapters to come in this story are quite violent, depending on your version of violence but I think they are so you have been prewarned :) ooooooo

Enjoy:)

Thankyouu!! xx

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The damp floor, the shrivelled wallpaper, the rats, it all looked the same in this house. The particularly filthy corner I lay in was where I spent most of days though. My corner. There was a small layer of dust on the floor, decorated with old bits of rotting food. He always made sure that there was a mess on the floor, said that's where I belonged...with the trash and rats.

I lay there curled up in a protective ball, not that I could ever protect myself from him but I could still try. He hadn't taken away my soul yet, much to his disdain. He didn't have the powers the dementors had. He would never be able to suck out my resistance or crush my free spirit. Only when the beatings left me to the point of near death was it that I stopped putting up a fight, though my determination to fight back never wavered, there was only so much my small body could take.

Tonight's beating had been one of the more violent rampages. He had lost a bet while gambling and came in washed with anger; I took the beating like every other, I didn't argue like I did so many times in my head. I took it as silently as my resolve would allow. I had learned from an early age that if I spoke out the torture would only get worse since he hated whining. He saw it as weakness.

Sometimes I often hoped that dementors would find me. The fate they could give looked much more peaceful than everything I endured here.

I tried to move as little as possible; keeping as still as I could so that he would dismiss me without reason of delivering a beating. During beatings I always kept my eyes shut tight, it made everything a little more ignorable. From the lounge I heard him crush a can in his fist and shivered at the noise it made.

"Oi rat, you're disgustin face an contaminatin presence is sickenin un makes me wanna to frow up. Go die in your hole under the stairs." He sneered in his drunken gruff voice; this was how he told me I could leave. I crawled along the floor and climbed into the cupboard under the stairs. It was filled with mould, cobwebs and rats like the rest of the house but to me it was the nearest thing I had to a home.

The house we lived in was a run down old place and only ever got cleaned when he ordered me to do so. It was located in Great Stodging Little Whinging. The neighbours never complained about the disruption, never reported it. They preferred to be ignorant; pretend they couldn't hear anything or ignore it and wait for it to stop.

After closing the door to my cupboard, I pulled out a lantern from a secret compartment I had built in the wall. Gently, I took out the candle from inside. "Incendio" I whispered, lighting the little candle as I put it back within the protection of the lantern. The light threw shadows into the dark corners of the cupboard while illuminating the little possessions I had. The wall held onto a picture of me as a baby in a crib, snuggled up in a sea of pink blankets, my rosy red cheeks just visible as I slept. According to him when they found me, the picture had been the only thing with me apart from a letter and the necklace, both of which I had kept.

From the secret compartment, hidden behind a wood panel in the wall, I also pulled out the letter and re-read it. For a piece of paper with only words on, it always gave me comfort and reminded me that someone had once loved me. It read

Dear Sir/Miss

The child which has been left on you're doorstep, I hope will be of no problem for you to take in. The reason I leave her to you is as follows;

Her parents were killed, as were her guardians leaving her no home and no relatives that I can find. You many be asking yourself, why not put her in an orphanage? The truth cannot be revealed to you.

I do not know her name so name her, as you will. From my information I know that she is one year old, half blooded and her birthday is on July 31st

The necklace around her neck has a mystery as to its origin and I must pass a warning to you as to not to try and remove it as the injuries it may inflict are dangerous.

I know it is much to ask of a young carefree couple such as yourselves but believe me when I say I would have taken care of the little girl myself had it been fit though as it was not I must leave her with you.

I wish you many years of life and happiness

Good Luck and Thank you

I pressed the letter against my heart. Though the letter held little information it showed proof that someone did care for me. I wondered if they were still alive? If they were alive would I ever get to meet them? See them? Speak to them? But for now it was enough to know that someone cared. In this dull, rat filled, mouldy cupboard, in a run down house with an abusive master it was enough just to know. Someone cared.