Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Potter world. I own only Mia Ferris and Sylas the owl. I wish I owned it, but sadly that's not the case.


Broken Roses

"Daddy, I don't understand! Why are you letting them take me away? Daddy! No, don't leave me!"

Tears streamed down the five-year-old's face as she was ripped from her father's grasp. All he could do was watch in helplessness as his daughter was taken away from him. She sat there in a stranger's arms and watched as her father just stood there doing nothing, and she felt her heart break.

"Grab the ball you little brat."

She quickly touched the round orange ball in front of her and took one last glance at her father before she felt a pull at her stomach.

He sat staring at the spot she had just vanished from and felt a lone tear fall down his face.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Mia Ferris sat on her bed and watched the rainfall outside her windows. The rain was soon accompanied by her tears as she started to weep.

July 31 was the day she was ripped from her father's loving care, and she hadn't seen or heard from him for six years to date. Today was the day she turned eleven, but she found no need to celebrate.

As soon as she felt she had cried enough, she quickly took many calming breaths so that she would stop. If she were found crying, she would get beaten. She quickly learned that on her first day. They had brought her here as soon as they could and left her. After two days, she found out that she was in France, that much was easy enough. For six years she had kept as quiet as she could and changed her last name. Staying quiet wasn't as easy as she thought it would be, seeing as she was a witch, but she tried.

"Get up you little imps! I vant zis 'ouse as to shine like ze Eiffel Tower! Now get to vork!" Mia quickly got up at the sound of Matron Francis screaming at her and the other orphans. She ran out of the room to grab something to clean and on her way back bumped into someone. She looked up at the old, cranky lady immediately started stuttering.

"I-I... M-Matron… S-S-Sorry…" She started to run back into her room and was grabbed by the little bit of hair that she had.

"Vat's zat on your face? 'Ave you been crying?" Mia inwardly groaned as she realized she hadn't washed her face off.

"No. I wouldn't-"

"And now you're LYING to me?" The woman raised her hand and slapped Mia across the face. She went to hit her again, but before that could happen, the woman was blown across the room. All the other orphans looked at Mia with looks of fear and admiration.

"What did you do?" one brave child asked.

"I don't know. I just, got scared and she just…" Mia didn't know how to explain herself. The oldest one of the bunch, Katherine at age fifteen, quickly ushered her out the door.

"You need to get out of here. When she wakes up, she'll kill you." Katherine gave her a small knapsack and shoved her onto the street.

"But, where do I go? I don't have anything." Mia had honestly no idea what to do.

"There are one hundred francs and two hundred pounds in that bag. I've been saving up by taking little bits from Matron for the past eight years I've been here. I was going to leave, but you need to more than I do. Go to England. Anywhere in England, just go." She gave Mia a quick hug and with one last look, closed the door to the orphanage.

Mia sat there for a few moments before running for three blocks. She stopped running and it finally hit her.

I'm free. I'm actually free.

She waited a few moments for the happy feeling to subside and then thought of where she should go.

I'll take a boat over to England, then stay somewhere.

Before getting a ticket she stopped at a small café to get a drink and hot food, which she hadn't had for six years. Mia got many strange looks but ignored them all.

The walk to the docks wasn't as far as she thought it was. She had never realized how close she was to water. Getting a ticket and getting on a boat wasn't as hard as she thought, either. No one really paid attention to the age once she gave money.

Standing on the boat, she watched as France slowly faded away and England came closer. For the first time in six years she felt some hope.

I'm going home.

She smiled and walked down below to take a well-needed nap.