Guess what? I'm back! Yay!

I apologise for the long wait for this prequel to my story Life Sucks but It can only get better(and yes, I realise how crappy of a title that is; I'm not very good at thinking those up if your wondering. Haha.), and the fact that I sort of disappeared off of the site for quite awhile, but I had some serious family/life drama going on, did something stupid on my part, and decided I needed to take a break and pull myself back together.

And here I am...again! YAY for me! This is really more for my practice at writing because I so love doing it, so Constructive Criticism is welcome, though I beg you to sign in when you give it so that I can get back to you to better understand what needs to be fixed. I do, however, not like Flames. If you don't like the story, please don't read it. I have a passion for writing and Flamers usually ruin that for most writers, so please no Flames, unless constructive.

Anyways, this story is going to be a lot different than my previous ones, mostly on an Angst level...really heavy on the Angst for me if I'm being honest. I do, however, promise that I can only function on a story that has a happy ending, so it shouldn't get too terribly awful.

Warning: There will be mentions of abuse,but only the repercussions of it, mostly because I can't bear to write things like that without feeling awful. However, I will post warnings for anything that progresses beyond that(doubtful) for those of you who want to avoid those kinds of things. The first half of this chapter does contain mentions of such abuse, but does not go into detail, I promise.

Anyways, please review and tell me how you feel about the story and whether or not I should continue it. Again, Constructive Criticism is welcome and enjoy :D!

Disclaimer: I'm just going to do this for the whole story instead of posting one every chapter because I always forget, but I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. All belong to the amazing JK Rowling, sadly. I do, however, own my OC, Carla, and am not making a profit from this story, believe me.

Prologue

Carla had always prided herself for being beautiful. It was something that most people both admired and envied her for. She was used to men smiling at her on the street or down the halls at school, used to them looking twice at her. Even the older, more sophisticated ones tended to fall to her physical charm.

She didn't know what made her so appealing to men. When she looked at herself, she saw someone broken beyond repair, someone who had lost all sense of who she was somewhere along her childhood.

She supposed those men didn't really care to know her past pure sexual encounters and only found her to be beautiful rather than something worth anything more than a quick fumble in a broom closet or heated snogs between classes.

She supposed all they noticed was the way her waist-length, bleach blonde hair hung around the roundness of her face, twig-straight and perfectly in place. The way her sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle flirtatiously when they looked at her with a stark hunger in their eyes. The way her eyelashes curled and framed those eyes and the natural way her beauty seemed to shine through, never enhanced or hidden by make-up. The way her chest seemed far bigger than normal when she wore hugging shirts or the curves she had in all the right places.

Or maybe it wasn't the beauty that turned them on so much. Maybe it was the confidence she carried herself with, the arrogant nature with which she used to hide her secrets and insecurities. Maybe it was the perfect facade she put on around everyone, never letting the cracks show or the emotion become too much to handle. Maybe it was the fear she had of commitment, promising no strings or ties to her emotionally.

Whatever it was they found so enjoyable she did not see in herself any longer as she looked in the mirror that gloomy morning.

If you'd have asked she wouldn't have been able to tell you when her life had become so horrible, when it had all gone to hell. Her childhood seemed like such a blur. She couldn't quite remember when the last time she'd felt safe in her home was, when the last time she'd had a happy memory in the place she called home. All of her memories here seemed to be dark and cold, nothing even remotely worth remembering or embracing. No memory to hold onto when things became too hard for her. No memory that provided any hope to her at all, no hope of escaping this hell hole, no hope of being able to let go of her fears and move on with her life.

If there were any happy memories, or ever had been, the bad ones over-shadowed them, so dark they were that everything good cowered in the deepest crevices of her subconscience, unwilling to come out.

That day the weather outside seemed to correspond to her mood in a way she would have thought impossible; the sky outside was gloomy and grey as the pattering of rain resonated around her silent room. The rain on the window panes looked like tears that could no longer be witheld from mother nature as they ran down in slow, yet steady, proccession. The trees seemed to quiver under the weight of the rain on their leaves, branches hanging limp. It was as though mother nature was weeping for her.

She stared at the reflection of herself heavily, assessing the damage that had been done the night before. Purple and black bruises covered her arms and legs, the imprint of a hand on her left cheek, and a black eye beginning to bloom on her face. There were a few scratches here and there, a large black and blue bruise on her stomach, and a cut that was bleeding into her hair, turning it a light brown color as it dried and caused it to clump together. Aside from that, she was otherwise unharmed.

Staring at her reflection for another heavy second, she sighed before turning to pull on a white, fluffy bathrobe. Tying the sash, she made her way out into the hallway and down the stairs.

The house was small and comfortable, housing two bedrooms and a makeshift office. To anyone outside of her world it would have looked welcoming, homey, loving even, but Carla was not lured in by its false sense of security. She knew better than to trust the pictures on the wall of her smiling face(usually with her mother. Never her father.) or the welcoming cream color of the walls. This house only reminded her of the things that had went wrong in her life, the anger and fear that resided within its walls, smothering in its intensity.

Distantly, she could hear the clanking of pots and pans, smell the breakfast cooking faintly from her position in the living room and smiled.

Knowing her mother was awake and making breakfast, no matter the circumstances, always brought a smile to her face.

She walked into the kitchen and froze halfway to the table, her smile sliding off immediately at the sight of her father sitting at the head of the table, sipping his coffee languidly as he read his morning paper. He looked up upon her entrance.

"Good morning, father." she stated politely, sharing a quick glance with her mother before taking a seat on the left side of her father, her back straight, feet flat, and hands folded in her lap.

Her father insisted upon her looking like a perfect lady, though his idea of a "perfect lady" differed from most people's, and became dangerously angry when she did anything unlady-like. He checked her posture for any flaws before grudgingly resigning to the fact that she sat perfectly, the way he had taught her.

She was slightly angered to find that he had been hoping for a flaw in her posture, hoping for a reason to yell and beat her into compliance. She could feel the rage boiling to a dangerous level, tried to supress it before she did something reckless, something she'd regret, but she couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the disgust and hatred for the man that sat before her, tired of supressing all her sadness and rage inside herself. He wasn't a man if he found pleasure in beating his wife and child. Wasn't a man if he could take the wishes and dreams from his child and put his needs before hers. It made her angry beyond anything she'd ever felt before.

Luckily, her mother took that moment to set the food on the table and gave her daughter a stern look as though sensing the rising anger and the reckless urge she was tempted to let loose.

Carla shook herself mentally and took a deep, calming breath as she tried to settle her rising emotions, pushed them all back down, and waited for her father to set his paper down and begin to eat his food.

They were never allowed to eat until he had finished his own breakfast, sure he had gotten his fill before he allowed them theirs.

Selfish bastard, she thought savagely, watching him eat his bacon and eggs as though he had all the time in the world.

"I'll be working late at the office tonight. They have an important case they want me to look at. I should be home around dinner, but I won't be able to stop by for lunch. There's a list in my office of things that need to be done by the time I get home."

Neither Carla or her mother graced him with an answer or even a nod of acknowledgement, but he was too busy eating his breakfast to care.

Carla could feel her mother's eyes on her face, feel the concern for her daughter radiating off her in waves so strong they made her want to succumb to her tears. She knew when her father left, she'd wrap her up in her arms and let her cry till her heart hurt a little less in her chest. She'd force her to eat breakfast and then make her take an ice bath to stop the bruises from swelling.

Her mother wouldn't tend to her own wounds; she was far too defiant, independent to give into the pain her father caused them both. But she'd be damned if Carla had to go through the same. That was her daughter and, while she couldn't stop the abuse, she could make sure her daughter didn't walk around feeling the same pain she did.

Carla knew that when her father left, she'd break down, give into the comfort only her mother could provide. Her mother had never even raised her voice at Carla, let alone her hand. She had the patient of a saint and the compassion to fill the most horrid people with a sense of safety. There was something about her mother that made people feel loved, but she had a way about her that didn't allow nonsense, an aura of a woman who was strong-willed and proud. While she would never raise a hand to Carla, the calm voice was far worse than the pain her father caused her on a daily basis.

The sound of disappointment in her mother's voice when she gave Carla a reprimand, the guilt it caused in her chest was like a knife in her heart. There was nothing worse than the guilt her mother could cause in someone when they did something wrong.

It was for these reasons that Carla loved her mother with a passion she didn't have for anything else. If her mother had hated her as much as her father, Carla didn't know what she'd do. Her mother was the only reason she hadn't run from this. Her mother was always strong and that gave Carla hope to believe everything would be okay. And hope was really all they had.

Sirius Black examined himself in the full length mirror hanging on the back of his bedroom door. The light grey button up he had tucked into his black slacks brought out the color of his eyes and made him look far more mature than he would care to admit. He'd left the top two buttons undone in an attempt to stop him from backing out of this, damn the consequences of such actions.

They were having a family dinner tonight and he had been told to look his best. Of course, when he'd then been informed of who would be attending the dinner, he'd been even more put off then he had in the beginning.

He hated when his aunt Druella showed up with his cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa. Ever since Andromeda had moved out 5 years prior, things for Sirius had gotten particularly nasty.

While Andromeda hadn't really gotten much of a second thought from her family, she had been Sorted into Slytherin. Sirius suspected that Druella had hoped she was only going through a phase, would come out of her dillusions and fantasies, marry a Pureblood, and have pureblood children. She'd been wrong, of course. Andy had been seeing a Muggle behind her mother's back for years and married him a year out of Hogwarts. They'd had a little girl a year later, Nymphadora, and Druella had sworn never to speak to her daughter again, his mother had blasted her off the tapestry, and Bella had become increasingly nasty to him now that he had no support. Coward.

Needless to say, Sirius was not looking forward to this family dinner. He didn't want to pretend to ignore the harsh words that were said about him like he wasn't in the room or go to sleep knowing that his family may just slit his throat before he woke in the morning.

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

Sirius winced as the sound of his mother's shrill voice echoing up the stairs and into his bedroom reached his ears. He hurriedly slipped on the dress shoes beside his door and ran to meet his family in the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place. His brother and father wore similar attire and his mother was dressed in a simple black dress that hit the floor and made her look somewhat menacing and manly in Sirius's opinion.

"Button your shirt!" snapped his mother as he went to stand next to Regulus. "I told you to look decent, not like a hooligan. And quit slouching, boy. We're trying to give an impression. Merlin knows I shouldn't count on you much for that, should I?"

Sirius tried to ignore the stinging comments, but they seemed to enter his mind anyway. He could easily say that he hated his mother. Honestly, who in the world wouldn't? But that didn't mean it didn't hurt to hear such disapproval and disgust for him in her voice. No matter how much he hated her, she was his mother, no matter how terrible, and there would always be a love there, always a hope that he could make her proud even if he didn't want. Deep down...way deep down, he knew he didn't hate her as much as he convinced himself he did.

Regulus shot him a sympathetic look, as though reading his thoughts, as Sirius buttoned the buttons of his shirt and straightened his back. Moments later, there was a knock on the door.

"Kreacher, get the door!" ordered his mother, sharply.

Kreacher, an ugly house elf that Sirius resented more than the world itself, gave his mother a look of awe as he bowed and muttered, "Yes, my beloved Mistress. Whatever you wish."

Sirius could not help but roll his eyes as Kreacher opened the door and the three women stepped in. Kreacher was quick to accept their jackets and hang them on the coat rack next to the door.

"Walburga," said Druella, politely. "How are you?"

"Outstanding, Druella," said his mother. "Is dinner ready Kreacher?"

"Of course, Mistress." said Kreacher, bowing once again as he led them to the kitchen and set the table with food. Sirius was not stupid enough to miss the fact that all of the food seemed to be out of his reach.

"Trying to starve me now, eh, Kreacher?" he snapped, haughtily, glaring at the house elf, who only glared back. "Isn't that a bit amateur for you?"

He watched the elf bristle with anger and indignation and smirked at the reaction he had roused from the tiny creature. His mother, however, gave him a glare so cold the smirk slipped off his face instantly.

"Hold your tongue, Sirius Black." she snapped. "I won't have any of your nonsense at this table tonight, are we clear?"

"Yes, mother." he gritted out, tightening the hand he had on his fork. He could see Bella smirking across from him and had a strong urge to throw it right at her eyes.

Dinner went by relatively quickly, an uncomfortable silence filling Sirius's ears. He tried to ignore the small talk that was neither directed or received by him. He had a small twinge of hope that this dinner wouldn't be so bad after all. Of course, this hope was so miniscule that he wasn't surprised nor disappointed when dessert was served and the lull in conversation was filled with exactly what he had been dreading; Voldemort.

"So, Bella, what are you planning to do outside of Hogwarts?" asked his mother, as she poured herself another glass of wine.

"Well, I've gotten a few offers..." Bella said, sharing a look with her mother, who nodded for her to continue, a look of pride Sirius wasn't particularly happy to see. "You see, the Dark Lord is looking for followers. He needs someone he can trust at his side, someone who sees things the way I do, that has a long line of proud purebloods." Bella threw Sirius a dark look that made him grin arrogantly at her in defiance. He saw her lips move into a snarl and winked at her; he always knew how to get a rise out of her. She continued, "He's offered me a position I couldn't possibly refuse, you see. He said I was perfect for the job, but I need a bit of training, a bit of practice in this kind of field, he has to be sure that he can trust me to do his work without hesitation. I have to give him my full devotion. Of course, I told him I would."

"That's wonderful, Bella." said Walburga, her voice filled with a pride that Sirius wished she would aim toward him. He angrily stomped on that admission before it could blossom into anything more than a thought. "I assume you have been teaching Narcissa, yes?"

Bella nodded.

"Its been easier now that Andromeda is gone. Narcissa isn't torn choosing between her sisters any longer and I think she's really beginning to understand why they're all scum."

Sirius clenched his fork tighter, tried to concentrate on the apple pie in front of him, but knew his attempts were pointless. It was too much to ask for a man like him to push away the anger he was feeling at his family in that moment.

"And Regulus?" asked Druella, as she looked over at his brother. Sirius's head snapped up to regaerd his brother and felt himself grow sick at the look of admiration he was watching Bella with. "What do you believe about the Muggles?"

Sirius watched his brother with bated breath, hoping, praying tht he would not say what his family wanted to hear.

"I think they're worthless. Definitely a danger to the Wizarding World, disgusting really," said Regulus, looking away from Bella for a minute to look at his aunt.

Sirius could feel anger welling inside him, reaching its peak and was helpless to stop it. He heard himself snort before he could stop himself and watched as the whole table turned to regard him coldly.

"Problem, Sirius?" asked his mother, dangerously.

He knew he should have kept his mouth shut, should've let it go, pushed down his anger, but he couldn't. Not anymore. He was so tired of the crap they put him through, so tired of the way they spoke about him, the way they talked about defenseless Muggles.

"Dangerous?" he sneered at his brother. "You're bloody joking, right?"

Regulus regarded his brother with a strange look as Sirius stared at him with so much hatred he had to refrain from wincing. He and his brother had never been awfully close, but Sirius had never pushed him away or regarded him in a way that suggested anything but a healthy brotherly dispute between them. Now Regulus was a tad afraid of him.

"Their bloody defenseless and their a 'danger to the Wizarding World'?" he said, laughing coldly. "Merlin, you people are more daft than I thought."

"Sirius Black, you listen to me right now-"

"Oh, no, mum," said Sirius, standing angrily. "I'm done listening to your mental pureblood, 'cleansing the Wizarding World' beliefs. Its all bullshit, in my opinion. If anyone's a danger to the Wizarding World, its you lot. You're all killing each other to prove a bloody point? A stupid one at that. Honestly, you've all gone completely mental and I don't want anything to do with the lot of you."

Walburga sneered at her son as he moved for the door.

"And where will you go?" she asked.

Sirius's sneer matched her own as he looked at her over his shoulder.

"The Potters. Rather be there than here. Don't bother trying to reach me, I don't give a bloody damn enough to try anymore."

And, with that, he had left Grimmauld Place, never to look back again. He only hoped that the Potters accepted him with open arms because he hadn't quite thought of a back up plan if they didn't. If they didn't accept him, then who would?

Alright, that's it for the first chapter. Yay! I know Bella's age is way off since she's only a year older than Sirius, but she's really important to the story. Andromeda has been moved to oldest and her date of birth has not changed, but Bella and Narcissa are a bit behind what they should be. I hope that doesn't bother you all.

Anywho, please review. The more I get, the quicker I update.