Origins
Rhan bid good night to Hermione and turned round the corner to her street, her arms laden with multi coloured shopping bags bursting with new clothes, equipment and books for the oncoming school year. It was to be her seventh and last year at Hogwarts and Rhan couldn't wait for the holidays to finish. It was not that she was a school lover, like her good friend Hermione; it was just a relief to be free from the fears and horrors of her family life. It gave her a chance to drown herself in her work.
The world around her was sleeping, an occasional dustbin lid would rattle and an owl would hoot. Apart from that nothing disturbed the slumbering world. Stars overhead twinkled and an eerie full moon shone down on her bathing her in moonlight. As Rhan approached her house, screams and yells wafted out through an open window in the living room.
Straightening her shoulders and trying to ignore the screams of her mother, she pushed open the front door and walked in. Resting her bags on the stairs, Rhan's father stormed out of the living room door his face a livid purple. She could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, and noticed his dilated pupils. Rhan stared straight into his eyes, knowing from experience what was coming.
"Where have you been?" He demanded raising his hands above his head causing Rhan to flinch.
"I went shopping to get my school stuff and then went round Hermione's house for a pizza." Rhan said rather quietly but refusing to break eye contact with her father.
"Why did you not come home for dinner?"
Rhan said nothing.
"Answer me, god damn you!" He shouted.
"Because I can't stand you," Rhan whispered looking away.
"I beg your pardon?" He said shouting at her. "How dare you say such a thing to me?!"
Rhan muttered something along the lines of an apology. In her mind, she was yelling at him, punching him, causing him some of the pain he had inflicted her herself and her mother.
"You ungrateful little whore,"
He spat the words at her, each syllable reverberating off the walls and bouncing back at her. Her father raised his hand and struck her hard across her face. Rhan whimpered and clutched the side of her skull.
"Don't, Gary." Her mother said grasping the living room door frame for support.
Rhan looked up at her and took in a sharp breath. Her beautiful mother's pearly skin was covered in blood; her delicate face was mangled and disfigured. Her pink lips split and bleeding.
"You stay out of this Elena!" Her father said rearing round and looming over her mother's fragile form. He raised his hand curling it into a tight fist and her mother screamed as it made contact with her face. A loud crunch made Rhan shudder. She wanted to do something to help. Inside her emotions were in turmoil, there was nothing she could do. Tears threatened to overflow but she didn't want to give her father that satisfaction. He fed off it and became even harder, like a leech growing with each drop of blood it receives.
She had once tried to call the police but her father had threatened to kill her and her mother if she did. Now she decided to take refuge in her room.
Grabbing her bags, Rhan ran up the stairs two at a time. She pushed her chest of drawers in front of the door and then launched herself onto her bed where she allowed her tears to flow freely down her cheeks. She sobbed until there were no tears left.
She glanced in the mirror at the side of her face. A purple bruise was beginning to form. Poking it gently sent a jabbing pain into her brain. She winced and took out her make up bag. Over the years she had become more used to covering up her bruises. She never wore short sleeved tops, or shorts. Carefully she added concealed until the bruise looked less serious and was hardly noticeable.
Turing away her eyes caught two packed bags lying by the side of her bed. She bunged her school stuff into the luggage bags and looked around her unusually tidy and empty room. Her mother had told her to leave a few months ago, when things had gotten out of control. Rhan had refused to leave her mother with her father and had stayed. Her father had gotten more violent, lashing out for the smallest things. O
Over the school holidays she would live round Hermione's house, seeking safety and the reassurance of a normal family life. Hermione's parents had suspected something was going on, but they had never voiced their queries. No one knew about it, not even Hermione.
The noise had died down and silence was restored. Perhaps her father had stormed out of the house; she thought a glimmer of hope lighting up inside her. Pulling her chest of drawers slowly away from the door, Rhan crept downstairs. The house was dark apart from a crack of light which escaped from the sides of the living room door.
Pushing the door open silently Rhan gasped at the scene before her eyes enfolded. Her father standing over her mother's lifeless body, his hands bloody. Light glinted off a sliver blade held in his hand.
Hearing the gasp, her father turned around. The madness in his eyes bore into her own willing her to run away. Rhan turned and ran as fast as she could upstairs, stumbling on the way up. Her heart was hammering in her chest, like a snare drum. She wanted to cry, to mourn for her mother and be reassured that everything was going to be alright.
Another part of her took over. Blocking her door with shaking hands she knew this was it, she had to go. A tear rolled down her face as she heard her father climb up the stairs shouting her name, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He was like a lion, taunting his trapped prey. She picked up her two bags and slung them over her shoulder. Taking her wand from her pocket she pushed open her bedroom window and began to climb down the drainpipe, slowly and carefully.
Many a time had she snuck out of the house, down to the shops to meet up with her friends in the dead of night or when her parent's arguments had got particularly out of control. Her stomach was doing summersaults and her sweaty hands caused her grip on the smooth shiny surface to slip.
Her father was now banging on the door, his shouts drifting down to her ears. She could not lodge the manic look in his eyes as he had turned on her, her mother's blood on his hands from her head.
Jumping agilely from the end of the drain pipe Rhan ran into the night. She ran to the end of her street, letting her feet carry her as far away from her house and her father as possible. A strange state of calmness had now settled over her body like a white sheet calming her racing heart and clearing her head.
She slumped on a wall a few streets away from her house to catch her breath and looked around. Panic started to leak in through the cool sheet of calmness. She couldn't stay here, her father has probably found out that she has gone now and was coming after her. She needed to get away fast. Her muggle bike was locked in the garage and her broom was still in her bedroom.
As if on cue, the Knight Bus appeared with a loud pop! Rhan blinked at the bright lights and the panic faded slightly. A Conductor dressed in a dazzling deep purple uniform stepped down and picked up her bags. Hauling them onto the Knight bus, he gave her a hand on and greeted her warmly.
"Where would you like to go tonight, miss?" The conductor, a man in his late seventies asked her in a kind voice.
"How much would it be to get to Hogwarts?" The conductor gave her a strange look before replying.
"Thirteen Sickles, Fifteen if you want a beverage, Eighteen for a toothbrush and flannel available in an array of colours."
Rhan smiled and rummaged in her bag. Pulling out thirteen sickles she turned down the beverage.
He took the coins with a smile, placing them in his pocket and led her up to the first floor and guided her to a bed. The floor was empty apart from a shaggy looking wizard asleep in one of the far beds.
"Why are you going to Hogwarts in the middle of the summer?" He asked curiously.
"I have an, er, apprenticeship with Professor McGonagall and she wanted me to start more or less straight away," Rhan was surprised at how easily the lie slipped out and at how convincing it sounded.
"You'll be there in three stops." He said with another kind smile.
With that the conductor stood up and walked back down to the ground floor. The beds skidded across the floor as the Knight Bus disappeared from her street with a pop and reappeared speeding through country lanes.
Rhan led down on the bed and tried to sleep but she couldn't, vivid visions of her mother were floating around in her head.
"Here we go, miss. Hogwarts," The conductor said kindly helping her off the Knight Bus and putting her bags on the ground next to her.
"Hope your apprenticeship goes well," He said smiling warmly. With a loud pop the bus had disappeared again leaving Rhan alone at the gates to Hogwarts at about 3 o'clock in the morning.
Rubbing her arms more for reassurance than for warmth, she picked up her bags and made her way up to the gates.
Rhan bid good night to Hermione and turned round the corner to her street, her arms laden with multi coloured shopping bags bursting with new clothes, equipment and books for the oncoming school year. It was to be her seventh and last year at Hogwarts and Rhan couldn't wait for the holidays to finish. It was not that she was a school lover, like her good friend Hermione; it was just a relief to be free from the fears and horrors of her family life. It gave her a chance to drown herself in her work.
The world around her was sleeping, an occasional dustbin lid would rattle and an owl would hoot. Apart from that nothing disturbed the slumbering world. Stars overhead twinkled and an eerie full moon shone down on her bathing her in moonlight. As Rhan approached her house, screams and yells wafted out through an open window in the living room.
Straightening her shoulders and trying to ignore the screams of her mother, she pushed open the front door and walked in. Resting her bags on the stairs, Rhan's father stormed out of the living room door his face a livid purple. She could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, and noticed his dilated pupils. Rhan stared straight into his eyes, knowing from experience what was coming.
"Where have you been?" He demanded raising his hands above his head causing Rhan to flinch.
"I went shopping to get my school stuff and then went round Hermione's house for a pizza." Rhan said rather quietly but refusing to break eye contact with her father.
"Why did you not come home for dinner?"
Rhan said nothing.
"Answer me, god damn you!" He shouted.
"Because I can't stand you," Rhan whispered looking away.
"I beg your pardon?" He said shouting at her. "How dare you say such a thing to me?!"
Rhan muttered something along the lines of an apology. In her mind, she was yelling at him, punching him, causing him some of the pain he had inflicted her herself and her mother.
"You ungrateful little whore,"
He spat the words at her, each syllable reverberating off the walls and bouncing back at her. Her father raised his hand and struck her hard across her face. Rhan whimpered and clutched the side of her skull.
"Don't, Gary." Her mother said grasping the living room door frame for support.
Rhan looked up at her and took in a sharp breath. Her beautiful mother's pearly skin was covered in blood; her delicate face was mangled and disfigured. Her pink lips split and bleeding.
"You stay out of this Elena!" Her father said rearing round and looming over her mother's fragile form. He raised his hand curling it into a tight fist and her mother screamed as it made contact with her face. A loud crunch made Rhan shudder. She wanted to do something to help. Inside her emotions were in turmoil, there was nothing she could do. Tears threatened to overflow but she didn't want to give her father that satisfaction. He fed off it and became even harder, like a leech growing with each drop of blood it receives.
She had once tried to call the police but her father had threatened to kill her and her mother if she did. Now she decided to take refuge in her room.
Grabbing her bags, Rhan ran up the stairs two at a time. She pushed her chest of drawers in front of the door and then launched herself onto her bed where she allowed her tears to flow freely down her cheeks. She sobbed until there were no tears left.
She glanced in the mirror at the side of her face. A purple bruise was beginning to form. Poking it gently sent a jabbing pain into her brain. She winced and took out her make up bag. Over the years she had become more used to covering up her bruises. She never wore short sleeved tops, or shorts. Carefully she added concealed until the bruise looked less serious and was hardly noticeable.
Turing away her eyes caught two packed bags lying by the side of her bed. She bunged her school stuff into the luggage bags and looked around her unusually tidy and empty room. Her mother had told her to leave a few months ago, when things had gotten out of control. Rhan had refused to leave her mother with her father and had stayed. Her father had gotten more violent, lashing out for the smallest things. O
Over the school holidays she would live round Hermione's house, seeking safety and the reassurance of a normal family life. Hermione's parents had suspected something was going on, but they had never voiced their queries. No one knew about it, not even Hermione.
The noise had died down and silence was restored. Perhaps her father had stormed out of the house; she thought a glimmer of hope lighting up inside her. Pulling her chest of drawers slowly away from the door, Rhan crept downstairs. The house was dark apart from a crack of light which escaped from the sides of the living room door.
Pushing the door open silently Rhan gasped at the scene before her eyes enfolded. Her father standing over her mother's lifeless body, his hands bloody. Light glinted off a sliver blade held in his hand.
Hearing the gasp, her father turned around. The madness in his eyes bore into her own willing her to run away. Rhan turned and ran as fast as she could upstairs, stumbling on the way up. Her heart was hammering in her chest, like a snare drum. She wanted to cry, to mourn for her mother and be reassured that everything was going to be alright.
Another part of her took over. Blocking her door with shaking hands she knew this was it, she had to go. A tear rolled down her face as she heard her father climb up the stairs shouting her name, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He was like a lion, taunting his trapped prey. She picked up her two bags and slung them over her shoulder. Taking her wand from her pocket she pushed open her bedroom window and began to climb down the drainpipe, slowly and carefully.
Many a time had she snuck out of the house, down to the shops to meet up with her friends in the dead of night or when her parent's arguments had got particularly out of control. Her stomach was doing summersaults and her sweaty hands caused her grip on the smooth shiny surface to slip.
Her father was now banging on the door, his shouts drifting down to her ears. She could not lodge the manic look in his eyes as he had turned on her, her mother's blood on his hands from her head.
Jumping agilely from the end of the drain pipe Rhan ran into the night. She ran to the end of her street, letting her feet carry her as far away from her house and her father as possible. A strange state of calmness had now settled over her body like a white sheet calming her racing heart and clearing her head.
She slumped on a wall a few streets away from her house to catch her breath and looked around. Panic started to leak in through the cool sheet of calmness. She couldn't stay here, her father has probably found out that she has gone now and was coming after her. She needed to get away fast. Her muggle bike was locked in the garage and her broom was still in her bedroom.
As if on cue, the Knight Bus appeared with a loud pop! Rhan blinked at the bright lights and the panic faded slightly. A Conductor dressed in a dazzling deep purple uniform stepped down and picked up her bags. Hauling them onto the Knight bus, he gave her a hand on and greeted her warmly.
"Where would you like to go tonight, miss?" The conductor, a man in his late seventies asked her in a kind voice.
"How much would it be to get to Hogwarts?" The conductor gave her a strange look before replying.
"Thirteen Sickles, Fifteen if you want a beverage, Eighteen for a toothbrush and flannel available in an array of colours."
Rhan smiled and rummaged in her bag. Pulling out thirteen sickles she turned down the beverage.
He took the coins with a smile, placing them in his pocket and led her up to the first floor and guided her to a bed. The floor was empty apart from a shaggy looking wizard asleep in one of the far beds.
"Why are you going to Hogwarts in the middle of the summer?" He asked curiously.
"I have an, er, apprenticeship with Professor McGonagall and she wanted me to start more or less straight away," Rhan was surprised at how easily the lie slipped out and at how convincing it sounded.
"You'll be there in three stops." He said with another kind smile.
With that the conductor stood up and walked back down to the ground floor. The beds skidded across the floor as the Knight Bus disappeared from her street with a pop and reappeared speeding through country lanes.
Rhan led down on the bed and tried to sleep but she couldn't, vivid visions of her mother were floating around in her head.
"Here we go, miss. Hogwarts," The conductor said kindly helping her off the Knight Bus and putting her bags on the ground next to her.
"Hope your apprenticeship goes well," He said smiling warmly. With a loud pop the bus had disappeared again leaving Rhan alone at the gates to Hogwarts at about 3 o'clock in the morning.
Rubbing her arms more for reassurance than for warmth, she picked up her bags and made her way up to the gates.