A/N Emma Dobbs is a canon character. Her name's mentioned in GOF during her sorting, however her house is not.

Oh and I own nothing but the plot and the poem thingy at the end )

Enjoy!

She sat in her room fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. She refused to give her mother the satisfaction of having made her cry. Her mom had just yelled at her, "Why don't you just go kill yourself? See if anyone will even care!" This was a usual occurrence. Her mom was always yelling at her, accusing her of this or that, always calling her names, telling her to get out of the house, and out of her life. But now. These words cut her deeply. These words cut through her carefully constructed shields, cut her heart, the heart she didn't know she even had. And yet, she began to wonder. Would anyone care if she killed herself? Would anyone care if she disappeared? Would anyone care if she died?
My name's Emma Dobbs and I am a witch. I'll be fourteen soon. I live with my mom in a little house in the middle of London. We're pretty dysfunctional, if you ask me. We've been that way even before we found out I was a witch. You see, it all started when my mom was sixteen.

She was raped one night, by a mysterious man. A few months later, she found out she was pregnant. When her parents found out, they told her she had to get an abortion, or they would disown her. She refused, because she didn't believe that it was right, and they threw her out. On her own, roaming the streets late that night, she decided that she was going to provide the best for her baby, not let anyone or anything bring her down.

Six months later, I was born. For the first few years, life was smooth, my mother worked to support us, but she still spent time with me. Then, as I grew older, she became more and more demanding. I guess she was struggling with her past, because she began to drink after work, and come home in a right state. She wasn't ever really physically abusive back then. She mostly stomped around the house and yelled at me.

But then it grew worse. When I was about eight, I guess someone had made some comment about her at work, and she lost it. She came home in an awful mood, and started yelling at me, hitting me, throwing things, screaming, ranting, and scaring me. When I started to cry, she flew into a rage, and started telling me how it was wrong for me to cry, how it was wrong for me to show fear, how I had to hide everything. And slowly I began to learn to hide all my feelings and thoughts.

Sometime before my eleventh birthday, I received a curious letter. It claimed that I was invited to this magical school, and that I was a witch. We lived close to a station, so I decided I would catch the train to King's Cross, and then head to this Platform 9 ¾. A few days into August, I told my mum. She lost it; she yelled at me for being hoodwinked by such a letter, she slapped me for trying to imagine life away from her, but in the end she agreed to let me go to this Diagon Alley to purchase my school supplies.

The day before I was to leave for Hogwarts, she got into a drunken rage and threatened to lock me up so I couldn't leave. She was so hung-over the next morning that I bid her adieu, and she waved back.

I left, without a glance back.

The train ride to Kings Cross was a blur. I remember getting off, and looking for Platform 9 ¾. I followed some kids that looked like they knew where they were going. I figured not many schools sent their kids by train, but I was wrong. I ended up on Platform 7. Luckily, I had given myself plenty of time, so I still had fifteen minutes.

I stood by Platform 10, facing Platform 9, to see if I could find it. Instead, a constable came up to me and asked me what I was waiting for. Seeing no reason to lie, I asked him where I could find Platform 9 ¾. He looked at me like I was crazy and told me to sober up or leave.

Meanwhile, I saw a handful of families standing by a pillar between the two platforms. Before he could notice, or I could call attention to it, I saw one of the men approach. He distracted the constable and I hurried off. I went towards this crowd, and heard the words Hogwarts and barrier, and some of the kids had owls. I immediately attached myself to them, and found my way onto Platform 9 ¾ where kids were running around, and parents were fussing. I boarded the train, and found myself a compartment.

I ended up sitting with three other girls, who were also eleven, Laura Childers, Erika Anne Majorly, and Marie Bonafide. Marie's parents were both magical, as was Laura's mother. Erika Anne and I had never heard of magic before we received our letter.

We made it safely to the castle, with the help of Hagrid and his little boats, and then were introduced to Professor McGonagall.

Some old ratty hat, sitting on a stool, sang a song – or at least I imagined that it sang a song. And then, our names were being called, and we were being sorted. Marie went to Ravenclaw, Laura went to Gryffindor, and then it was my turn.

I sat on the stool with the hat on my head, and heard it inside my head.

"Hm…not really brave, you prefer to stay out of the way. Not loyal, you trust no one. Not exceptionally bright. You're cunning, and want revenge, and are willing to bide you time until the opportune moment. Well, I guess that makes you…SLYTHERIN!"

I walked to the table on the far left that was cheering. I found myself congratulated on all sides, and then found myself seated next to a boy who introduced himself as Blaise, and pointed out his mates. On the other side was Malcolm Baddock, a first year like myself. I later found out that Blaise and his mates were fourth years, and that Draco and they ruled the Slytherin roost.

That year there was this Triwizard Tournament that ended with the death of one of the students and the return of this Dark Lord. The Dark Lord, even though I was a first year, I knew the rumors, I saw the glances, I heard the whispers. I heard about his followers, Death Eaters, but I didn't see how it mattered to me.

When I returned home that summer, my mum was still drinking, but she had gotten herself a boyfriend. He wasn't very nice though, and he beat me when he was drunk, and sometimes even when he was sober.

I made it through that summer, and returned to Hogwarts for my second year. It wasn't too bad. We had this lady name Dolores Umbridge, who for once, hated the Gryffindorks as much as we did. But as much as I hated being home, I hated going to school. At Hogwarts, I still wasn't able to trust anyone – my mother's lessons had been too drilled into my head. I wished I could confide in someone, release my burden, but I couldn't.

That summer my mum dumped her boyfriend and life began to look up. We slowly began to rebuild our relationship, and although my mother wasn't drinking anymore, she still had this idea that it was a sin to show any weakness, so I still wasn't able to complain about anything.

Even though my home situation was improving, I was still looking forward to going back to school. My childhood home held too many memories, most of them bad, and I still wasn't comfortable around my mum. I also believed that because my secrets weren't so pressing, I would feel more comfortable around my peers at school.

My third year started out well, true to my belief, I felt more comfortable around my friends; however the common room was tense. Malfoy was near his breaking point, which set his mates on edge as well. Other than that, nothing seemed amiss. But then, at the end of the year, Dumbledore was killed, by Snape. I mean, I didn't really care for the Headmaster, but I felt completely betrayed that my housemaster had become a murderer. At this point I couldn't wait to go home. I figured everything would be the way I had left it, and my mum and I could continue building our relationship from where we had been the summer before.

But it wasn't the way I'd left it. Something had happened to my mom that threw her out of her loop. When I got home, she was drunk, and engaged in a fight with her current boyfriend. I learned later, that that was all they did. Finally, he cheated on her, and she caught him. It devastated her. After that, I never heard her say a nice word that summer. All I heard were her yells, her telling me to get out of her life, her accusing me of bringing these problems into the family, her screaming at me that no one cared about me.

And so that summer, I changed. I released the serpent inside of me. For years I had told myself that I had to love her, that she was my mother, and that she was justified in doing what she wanted. And then, when I turned 14, something in me finally snapped over that summer. I waited until the day where I could get my revenge.

All I had to look forward to was the solace of going back to school.

A week before I left, I made a vow to myself, that I would make her feel my pain, that I would make her sorry for having hurt me in the ways that she had.

You've broken me,
You've stripped me of everything
You've taken me,
And everything I care for.
I want to cry
I want to scream
But I don't
I know I can't
And so I won't.
Instead, I wait.
I bottle my feelings,
I hide my thoughts,
I destroy my emotions.
To survive, I wait.
I wait for a day
One day,
Sometime,
When I will live
And the day I live
Is the day you die
The day you repent
The day you cry
The day you bleed
The day you die.
You'll beg for forgiveness,
But I won't have feelings.
I'll be everything
You wanted me to be.
I'll be uncaring
Unflinching,
And cold
And so what you created
Will destroy you
And I will be unable to feel
Anything,
To feel regret,
To feel pain,
To feel mercy,
To care.
I wait for that day
I bide my time
For that day will come
And I will exact my revenge.

A/N Hope you liked it!!

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