Pamela Potter – Stone of Souls
This is my first attempt to write a fan-fiction story. I do my own editing so any and all faults are on me.
This story is going to have adult themes. In the first chapter there is mention of abuse and sexual abuse. Be warned.
Summary: Pamela Lillian Potter hasn't had a good life in the few years she has been alive. She was reduced to a slave from the moment she could walk and by the time she could reach the sink on her own feet, worse. Watch the rise of a heroine who will fall from grace and became Poison Ivy.
Fun Fact: The name "Pamela" has various meanings, but for the purpose of this story and going with other plant/flower names of girls it is taken from "Palm" and "Lillian" being shorten to "Lily" making Pamela's name "Palm Lily" an evergreen plant from Australia.
Toxic
The howling winds brought with them change on the day of November 1. All around Britain people were seeing the strangest of things, from an unassuming cat reading a street sign to people out wearing robes of all things. Vernon Dursley, of Number 4 Privet Drive, felt a lump in his throat because of all these weird things he has seen throughout the day. So when the news spoke of owls flying in the day he knew something abnormal was going on.
"Strangest things on the news, don't you think, Petunia dear." Vernon said carefully. "Owls flying about in the day time, odd people walking around, it is almost like that crowd your sister belongs to came out of the shadows. She had a daughter right? Peony if I'm not mistaken."
"Pamela, mother would roll in her grave." Petunia said snidely.
"Oh yes, yes true," Vernon swallowed the lump in his throat.
Turning in for the night Vernon didn't notice that the cat he saw that morning was still sitting stiffly on the wall outside. Nor did he know that the cat would be sitting there for most of the night.
Hidden behind the guise of the cat was a stern, patient woman. She is powerful in her own right and is considered a master, or mistress, of her class. The feat of turning into a cat is only one of her many achievements. Suddenly the lights went out around her as if pulled into the darkness.
Down the street walked a man with long silver hair that could easily be tucked into his belt, if he wore one. As it happened he did not, instead he wore a robe of midnight blue with various patterns on it and pointed, heeled boots. His calculating eyes focused on the woman posing as a cat, he gave a small chuckle.
"Professor McGonagall, how strange is it seeing you here, of all places? Shouldn't you be out celebrating?" A twinkle sparked up into his eyes
"What is there to celebrate?" McGonagall said as she turned back into a woman.
"Voldemort has fallen, my dear, or haven't you heard?" Dumbledore said making eye contact.
"Oh I heard, I also heard from Hagrid that you plan to leave young Pamela here of all places. Albus you can't, they are the worst sort of muggles there is. Not to mention that their boy is as rotten as they come. They truly are –"
"The only family she has." Dumbledore said, his spell was cast to stop McGonagall from pursuing her line of questioning. Mind magic, an obscure, and rather deeply questioned magic.
McGonagall has not heard much else that night that she could recall, she vaguely remembers Hagrid bringing the young red haired girl and that they left her there where the muggles would find her.
Pamela Lillian Potter lay there outside in the cold with only a letter informing the Dursleys of who she was and what happened to her parents. If not for the shrub next to the door bending over her, Pamela would've frozen to death, mere hours after she was dubbed – The-Girl-Who-Lived.
====PPSOS====
Years have passed since that day, although you could hardly tell in the cookie cutter world of Little Whinging. One house stood amongst the others only because of the beautiful garden, which was just above average, but well within its limits of normality. This house is Number 4 Privet Drive.
Inside this normal house there was no real evidence of the goings on. For a visitor it would seem like the perfect suburban home. On every available surface there were pictures of what could be assumed to be a normal family. The man of the house was quite obese, as was his son. The lady of the home was thin with twice as much neck than one would need. No one could say that another lived here, for she was hidden away under the stairs, currently too weak to move.
A sharp pain in her scalp woke the red head up with a start. Someone picked her up by the hair and carried her to the kitchen and throwing her against the stove. The girl did not make a sound. In fact she hasn't for many years now. In her eyes you could see that she was bent so far that she seems broken.
A sharp pain flashed over her cheek as she fell on the ground, on shaky legs she pushed herself up and took a pan from the cupboard and placed it on the stove. These actions normally meant that the other people were hungry. Being hit by the pan clearly meant that they weren't hungry. She was picked up again and her head was slammed into the burning flame on the stove. Switching it of to stop the burn she closed her eyes.
The shirt she wore, the only clothing she had, was lifted and a hard piece of flesh pushed into her folds. The person wasn't part of the family that lived in Number 4. He was supposed to watch over her, but he was nothing more than a rapist. Thrusting deeper and deeper, gaining speed with each thrust, he released himself inside of her.
Kicking the girl aside he sat on the chair and watched as she cleaned the mess that was made. He then dragged her up the stairs and watched as she cleaned out his seed with the shower head. Grinning he dragged her and threw her down the stairs, before shoving her back inside the cupboard under the stairs.
The girl sat there with her head on her knees. She wished she could cry, but her tears have dried up long ago. Through it all there was still just one though going through her mind: Have a happy birthday Dudley, hope you choke on your cake.
====PPSOS====
A tabby cat sat outside of Number 4 Privet Drive as the car pulled into the driveway. The cat was there to assess the situation at the home. She saw the smug looking guy exit the house and give a few notes from Mr. Dursley, but it was his words that caused her to flinch.
"The bitch barely had me satisfied. This was the last time, I need a tighter hole."
McGonagall may not have known much about muggle culture, but she knew a sexual reference when she heard it. McGonagall filed this away for later while she continued to watch the house. It was close to midnight when a light was switched on in the hallway, the frosted glass panel on the door gave McGonagall pause.
She saw a very round figure opening the door to the cupboard under the stairs and pull a very small figure out. Seconds later the door opened and the smaller figure was thrown out and onto the thorny bushes. The round figure whispered just hard enough for both the girl and McGonagall to hear.
"Get out of here you outlived your usefulness, Cunt."
The door closed and the young girl, clearly weak pushed herself up onto her bare feet and with the support of the plants she was able to walk out of the yard and down the street. Once she reached the playground however she collapsed, the grass sensing her fall pushed her underneath the hedge, out of the elements. The shrubs of the hedge wrapped around the girl and hid her from prying eyes.
This was how McGonagall found Pamela. She picked up the too small body and disappeared on the spot. They reappeared in a shopping mall, since there were no muggles there it was safe, not that McGonagall cared at that moment. She strode straight through Purge & Dowse ltd. and entered the hidden St. Mungo's Hospital. She carried her to the front desk, the lady gasped in shock.
"Another muggleborn almost beaten to death, Minerva?" She asked.
"I am afraid that this might've been going on for a while, but she isn't muggleborn, only muggle raised." McGonagall said sadness clear in her voice.
"Why is she green?" The lady asked and for the first time McGonagall saw the clear green pigmentation on the girl's skin.
"I do not know to be honest. This is exactly how I found her, so maybe the healers can investigate that as well?" McGonagall just finished when two healers entered with a floating stretcher.
"We'll do our best." One of them said as the other carefully placed Pamela on the stretcher. "What is her name?"
"Pamela Lillian Potter," silence fell over the entire hospital. "I am going back to take care of the situation. I will be back shortly."
Back in Surrey, McGonagall walked with determination to her targeted house, she blew open the door and strode up the stairs. She opened the main bedroom door and saw the fat lump and his wife cowering in fear. The spell was on her tongue, but at the last moment she didn't utter it instead she glared at them and said.
"I am going to transfigure your son into a gerbil until your niece's health is back to normal. You are lucky I had time to calm down or it could've been worse. Now where does your friend live, the one who took Pamela's innocence?"
"He lives at the end of the street." Mrs. Dursley whimpered out.
McGonagall turned on her heel and walked down the hall only stopping at Dudley's room and cast two spells into it. The first turned Dudley into a gerbil like she promised the second placed him inside a cage.
McGonagall reached the house at the end of the street and doing a quick scan knew it was the right one. She walked in and saw the person lying with his face down halfway up the stairs.
Doing a quick diagnostic spell revealed that he was dead, killed by toxins similar to that of deadly nightshade. McGonagall smiled at the irony. Once she returned to the hospital, the head healer was already waiting for her. She took McGonagall to her office and after a moment of silence she spoke.
"Pamela Potter will be fine. She is extremely malnourished and has multiple lacerations all over her body. From what we could gather this has been going on for ten years now." The healer took of her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "She has also been raped multiple times as far as we can tell the earliest was when she was five or six, the last was only a few hours ago. The person who raped her washed out any physical evidence. Muggle police won't find Dean and Aye."
"I believe they use the letters DNA, Healer Tonks." The healer blushed.
"Yes quite, it has been a long day, my apologies. We have reset her bones and healed them. Unfortunately we can't do anything for her skin. We believe it has taken similar properties to most plants. Also –" Healer Tonks paused to smile. "We believe that whoever forces her into anything like that again, will be in for a deadly surprise."
That was the day that they knew that Pamela Lillian Potter was poisonous.
====PPSOS====
My first attempt at Fan Fiction, I am already working on Chapter 2, but would like to know what you guys think.
Please review