1991
In the tiny hut on the rock, a damp, unpleasant smell hung over everything and the wind howled cruelly outside. Dudley's snores from the battered old sofa beside them mingled with Uncle Vernon's from the only bedroom, creating an awful cacophony that made sleep impossible.
Violet met her brother's eyes from where he lay on the floor across from her.
Time? she mouthed silently.
He glanced at the digital watch on his wrist that had once belonged to Dudley (and hence had almost been smashed beyond repair), and then showed her. The cracked screen blinked with the numbers 00:01.
She grinned at Harry before propping herself up on one elbow and tracing the words 'Happy Birthday!' in the thick layer of dust that covered the floor. He smiled slightly, and copying her movement, drew a birthday cake around the words with eleven candles.
Birthdays had never had quite the same meaning for the twins as it seemed to hold for other people. It simply wasn't acknowledged, other than the grudging mention of it by Aunt Petunia, followed by a noncommittal grunt by Uncle Vernon, and a card from their kindly but painfully boring old neighbour Mrs Figg. Violet wouldn't have been surprised if she was the only person in Privet Drive who knew her and Harry even existed, due to their aunt and uncle's terror of their strange niece and nephew being discovered by their so very normal neighbours. Mrs Figg, she reflected, only knew because the Dursleys' needed to leave them with someone when they went out to make sure they didn't run off with the silverware, or something equally precious to Aunt Petunia.
This year, though, Violet was certain her aunt and uncle were much too preoccupied with the mysterious letters to even remember, and there wouldn't even be the usual cat-themed birthday card from Mrs Figg due to Uncle Vernon's newfound hatred of the Postal Service.
(How the hell have we lasted eleven years?)
She held up three fingers, counted down, and then together, her and Harry blew gently on their illustrations. The dust scattered, leaving a clean spot on the floor where the pathetic cake had been.
Violet lay back down on her pillow, left with nothing to do now but wait or daybreak. Suddenly, a horrible hopelessness was rising in her throat, making it hard to draw breath. She felt the beginnings of hot tears pricking at her eyes.
(Please God. Mum, Dad; anyone. I can't take much more of this).
Seemingly in answer to her desperate, silent plea, the front door burst open with a deafening crash, and the cold sea air that flooded her lungs tasted like liberation.
thanks so much for reading. this story, if you haven't already guessed, is about my OC, violet potter. i know it's been done countless times before, but here's my (unoriginal) take. it also probably won't be a linear storyline - i've read so many of these that are basically just the books line by line with a few additions. i want violet to have her own story, so this'll just be short stories that'll jump around the timeline a bit. hope you enjoy, and please review!!
