Usual disclaimer: And a big warning! This chapter hasn't been edited for spelling mistakes yet. Camille, who usually works so hard is extremely busy with exams and lectures. I wish her the best of luck! Although she's so clever she doesn't need luck! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please excuse any mistakes!
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Boxing Day
She looked the same. The same brown eyes as before. The same straight black hair that she hated with a vengeance. She was the same, exactly the same.
So why didn't she feel the same?
It was two days ago that her uncle had dropped his latest bombshell on her and now she wasfourteen years old and had absolutely no idea who she really was.
She had thought she had known; had thought she was Lucifer Malfoy's child. But her uncle had corrected her of that misconception several years ago.
She had thought she was a pure-blooded witch with bloodlines stretching back over hundreds of years. Once again her uncle had corrected her erroneous thinking. What else did she assume about herself that was incorrect? He'd made it clear to her that it made no difference to him that she wasn't pure-blooded and she had believed him, especially when he had told her Megan Snape was Muggle born.
So why did it really matter? What was blood anyway?
Nothing, according to Mr Longbottom. Nothing according to her uncle; but she knew they were both wrong. It did matter.
It mattered very much to her and she was certain that it would matter very much to her parents.
How would they react then?
Would her father hold her hand and tell her it made no difference to him? What would he say when he found out that she wasn't even his daughter let alone pure-blooded.
What would he say to her mother when he found out the deceit that she had fed him forfourteen years? She'd never really thought about that much, thinking that he'd never find out anyway. But now...
Senga had listened to her uncle and accepted what he had told her, his words not really sinking in.
But two nights of very little sleep had given her the chance to think things through and she now saw things that hadn't occurred to her at the time.
She wondered just where it would leave her when her mother found out the inheritance would pass her by; where it would leave her family.
But most of all she wondered who she really was; and where she truly belonged.
She looked again at the reflection in the mirror, everything looked the same as it had done three days ago. But nothing was the same and Senga felt as if she was drowning in a sea of doubt. She was dying inside, slowly bleeding to death.
She needed to talk to someone, but she knew she couldn't talk to her uncle, he was too close to it all. She couldn't talk to Aunt Megan either, while she liked her a lot, she was fairly certain she wouldn't really understand, beside it would be unfair to heap anything on her at the moment with the baby and all.
She needed to talk to Neville Longbottom.
"Mr Longbottom!" Senga entered the greenhouse and looked around her, but it seemed empty.
"Mr Longbottom?" Senga stepped forward and around the unruly Cacti section that was still threatening to take over the entire left side of the greenhouse.
Senga stopped when she saw Neville sitting in his usual armchair, his eyes closed, apparently asleep.
Senga stepped backwards quickly and caught her foot in the roots of a Bearded Motheritis Plant. She fell backwards bringing the entire plant down over her, which is what it had been aiming for. Roots slithered around and over her, creeping into her hair and tangling her up as it seemed to push her robes higher up her arms and legs.
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