Dark Lady|| Venus Potter

Prologue

The inky black sky was sinking in dirty-gray, jagged clouds. Silvery snowflakes flowed down them, dancing with the tango wind and attacking with gusto the long, glaciated face of a small being, trembling in the cold of ruthless winter.

What did a small girl, not even four years old, do in the middle of a huge, snowstorm, dressed only in an old, washed second-hand katana and too big pants? All these thanks to the uncle of a child with a fiery temperament, the infamous Vernon Dursley. He hated her and her twin brother, although they did nothing - their only fault was being dropped on his doorstep at the edge of fall two years earlier. However, Mr. Dursley did not care, just complaining about two additional, unwanted feeding mouths, so as soon as he had even a trivial reason, he got rid of one of them. I mean her.

Harry - because that was his brother's name - broke the decorated vase accidentally while running away from his cousin Dudley, who tormented his siblings as much as he could at his four-year abilities. It was one of those very, very expensive, almost priceless, antique vases, in addition to the sacred memory of Vernon's parents. The little boy panicked. For fear of the consequences - Mr. Dursley was not a nice man, on the contrary - he blamed his naive, oh, so naive little sister. Venus, because that was the name of the little girl, was shouted out by her uncle, who, in a fit of unexpected fury, grabbed her by the collar of the katana and, as she stood threw her out of the house.

The girl, humming softly crouched on a snowy bench, previously collecting snow from the seat with a bruised handle. She cringed, hiding her legs under her chin and trying to stop the heat escaping with every minute. The sun was going down, and with it, the temperature was lowering. One thing she knew: she would have no chance of surviving the wound in its present condition, and the Dursleys would not take her back...

The last thing she heard was a terrified female scream.