Torn apart (A HP fanfic)

Intro& prologue

TRAILER: 

**Hi! This is my first story, so I'm really excited. Any feedback would be great in the comments! If some stuff is confusing in the story because you haven't read the books, I would advise reading them, they are great. And if I tweak a few facts or characters, it is on purpose, don't judge. The credit for all characters but Erabelle, Hera, and Septima goes to J.K. Rowling. She is amazing. Okay, Sorry for boring you! :) Thx for reading,

Love, Slytherinisme1234. **

Prologue:

It was a quiet, dark evening. Most people were asleep in their warm beds. But it was the most painful day of one particular woman's life...

A woman in a dark cloak walked hurriedly down Walter street, heading towards the great, dark brick building at the end. It was late, and the street was otherwise deserted. The woman was constantly looking behind her warily as if she was making sure no one was following her. It was dead silent, except for some muttering from under her hood. She kept reassuring herself that it had to be done, there was no other way, even though she knew in her heart that there was one. She was on the verge of tears the whole time, blinking them away quickly before they had the chance to fall.

She reached the big building, stopping for a second to look up at the place. The sign above the door read: "The Andrews Orphanage" In big, blocky letters. It was a very ugly and menacing place. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, hugging the bundle she was carrying in her arms tighter, but then she shook her head and walked up to the doorstep. She leaned down slowly, placing the bundle just outside the door, On the rough brown doormat. The woman paused for a minute just looking at the bundle sadly. She moved the blanket from the top of the bundle, and a pair of deep, green eyes stared out at her. She felt a familiar tingly feeling as the eyes looked curiously at her, and she saw a flash for a moment of her own face, looking terrible, and then a man... one that the woman knew well, looking angry. The picture vanished after just a second. 

The girl had a gift that her father shared. When the woman looked at her own self for a moment she saw that she had bags under her eyes, and they were red and puffy like she had been crying. Which she had, every night for a whole week. She knew it was what had to be done, but it was the worst thing she had ever had to do. She kissed the baby's forehead for the last time, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. But she had to leave. Taking a small, cracked mirror out of her pocket and Bundling it with the baby, She knocked on the big wooden door three times, then She quickly walked away, only looking back once. As she took that one last look, she whispered

"Goodbye, my sweet Erabelle" And then she was gone, with only a small pop.

** One question, should I add pictures sometimes, with the story? Comment plz!**