Mysterious Girl (Harry Potter Fan Fiction)

Unexpected

 okayy guys so heres the next chapter and i hope you like it :D dont forget to COMMENT and/or VOTE and stuff :) it would be much appreciated

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Waking up routinely early, I slid into an over-sized dirty, grey, short-sleeved shirt along with a pair of not so white shorts. My bare feet made little noise as they touched the cold wood flooring as I walked to the kitchen. Master would be up soon and I could not bare the thought of punishment, not today. Today my body felt tired of fighting, the bruises from yesterday ached all over, my muscles screamed in protest and my whole body felt weighed down, as though I had just been weight lifting.

No heating in the house left every room in the house freezing including the kitchen. Looking around I let my gaze travel over the single, wooded table and chair slightly to the left of the room as you walked. The work surface sat filled with unclean dishes from the night before and food stains of spilled food that had started to set. First thing first I started to cook his breakfast, ignoring the rumbling cry of my stomach. Then I would move onto doing the dishes.

Mouth watering smells filled the air as I cooked the last slices of bacon and eggs that I found in the fridge. Over the sizzling of the food, my ears caught the sound of his heavy steps weighing down the stairs as he descended them; I had to suppress a wince with each ‘thump’ on the stairs. I felt my body stiffen and a cold shiver run down my back when he entered the kitchen but ignored it.

Having my back to him was something I tried to avoid at all times. When my back faced him I was vulnerable for unexpected attacks at any moment. Trying to ignore this weakness, I plated his breakfast and scurried over, setting it on the table as he sat down. I turned back to go and clean the dishes but found he’d grabbed my wrist in a dead lock and twisted it reducing me to my knees. Don’t scream, stay strong said a small voice in my head, I bite my tongue to keep from crying out while water filled my eyes in pain. Using his other hand he fiercely grabbed my hair and pulled it back, forcing me to look up at the blackened ceiling. Biting harder to save my scream, I could now taste blood.

"Why haven’t the dishes been done, rat?" he snarled into my ear.

"I-I" I tried to say but he cut me off.

"I don’t do excuses. You should know that by know. Do them now. I want to see my face in them." He growled, letting me go but not before hitting me straight across the cheekbone. The stinging in my cheek followed me to the floor. Quickly trying to reassemble myself, I got back up trying to show him that he had not weakened me.

It took me through till lunchtime to finish cleaning the dishes; staying out of his way I moved to clean the rest of the house instead of asking for further instructions.

As I cleaned the cobwebs and dusted off the picture frames upstairs, I began to think about the rest of the wizarding world. Were there other children like me out there? Did they get to go to Wizarding School? Did they have friends? Somebody who they could have fun with? Talk to about their problems and laugh things off with?

It would be nice to have friends; Master never let me leave the house unless it was to get food so I didn’t have any friends. I never really spoke to anyone but when I did they were polite and happy and it filled me with joy. Once. Once I had a friend but I don’t get to see her anymore, haven’t in years. Kenza, Kenza Brindley was her name. She was the daughter of one of Mistress's friends, she would come round and we would play together. After Mistress died they stopped coming round, probably scared of him. I wouldn’t blame them if that were the reason, I’d just be glad they’d never have to feel what it was like in a position like mine.

Magic kept me company though; it would always be there and couldn’t disappear. Such a mysterious thing, magic, with so much to learn, yet so much unknown and undiscovered by wizards. I knew ever since I could first remember that I could do magic; it made me excited whenever I preformed a spell. Mistress used to teach me some simple spells like how to summon things and do my hair. She always used a wand to do her magic with but I found that I could do magic without one, which had surprised her.

Whenever I did magic it came second nature to me, whatever I wanted doing I could do. Master doesn’t ever allow me to use magic in the house, even though he uses it himself but every now and then I sneakily use spell or two.

Mistress was always very kind to me. It was upon her pleading that I was aloud to stay in the house instead of being sent to an orphanage. She used to tell me that she had always wanted a child but Master didn’t want one so they never had kids. We worked out together that I was a metamorphous, meaning I can change my appearance; we used to have great fun, laughing when turning my face into different animals. She died when I was 6years old, of a fatal illness that the healers at St. Mungo’s couldn’t cure her of. Master blamed me for her death and has made me serve him and beat me ever since.

I didn’t hear him come up the stairs but felt him kick me from behind causing me to fall to the floor. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees using all the strength I could muster. I would not let him see me weak.

"Clean up the mess downstairs" he ordered and with that he went to bed. When I looked at the clock on the wall, in between two of the photos I’d been cleaning, I saw that it was 12.05am at nighttime; I must have been cleaning longer that I thought. As I gradually pulled myself upright with the help of the banister, my back screamed in protest and my legs felt sore but I managed to eventually make it down the stairs.

I paused a minute as I reached the bottom step when I suddenly saw a room, with a tall mirror in the center, stood in front of it was a man. He wore black robes and had a turban wrapped around his head, slightly behind him stood a boy who looked about my age. He wore a red jumper with white trousers, he had black messy hair and glasses. Before I could really look at the scene it disappeared. In the next minute I felt a pull behind my naval while spinning on the spot and being sucked into a tube, leaving me breathless.

When I felt my bare feet hit the ground, I found myself in the room I had just seen; watching as the boy struggled under the grip the turban man had around his neck…