It has been a long time, hasn't it? This is not the only fanfiction I have worked on, but it is the most current. I know I have a few stories that need to be updated and some that none of you have even seen yet that need to be uploaded, but call me coming back a Christmas present to you all. I turned 17 in July, how bizarre is that? How long have I been writing now?

Those of you that have visited my DeviantART account know that I never stopped writing. I don't think I have it in me to just stop.

So here it is, the first thing I have uploaded in over a year. Enjoy.

Warnings: Abuse of a minor in the physical, emotional and mental sense. This is some very serious stuff I'm writing here, folks. And for anyone out there - god forbid - that is being abused; pick up a phone and call someone, anyone, because you don't deserve it and you never will. And if you don't quite have the courage to do that, I respond to every PM I get, and I will always be here.

Notes: This story is based around an OC of my own creation, she and her life belongs to me but anything related to the world of Harry Potter does not. And I own the image used as the 'bookcover' on this fanfiction, it is, infact, of my own eye. Just very, very edited.

-Midi x

~A fire in silver eyes~

Chapter 1

It was always so cold here. Some nights, her body would shiver uncontrollably and wouldn't stop. Perhaps that's why she couldn't sleep well anymore? Or perhaps not. She wouldn't be able to say. No one ever told her anything. She was kept in the dark, with hardly any contact to the outside world other than school and chores. They didn't want her to attend a school, they didn't want her to have anything, she was a burden, a freak. No one wanted her, she didn't need to exist.

She'd tried to go away once, far, far away, where no one could come after her. It hadn't worked. The wounds had closed up too quickly. She didn't try again. They never found out, or if they did, they didn't care.

Rivera Woods didn't know much about herself, but she knew a lot about the world. The world was unkind and people were cruel and she would give anything, anything, to just get away from it all. And that's how her day began; with her wishes and her hopes and suddenly-

"FREAK! Get up HERE!"

-They stopped.

As she walked through the darkness of the basement, towards the cracked, stony stairs, she thought back to when she was younger.

"Sir, where are my parents?" A timid four-year old asked.

A big, fat man with piercing eyes and a set scowl on his face peered down at the young child and sneered.

"Dead. Just like you should be. You worthless child. We didn't even want you. No one did. But once they found out you had some living relatives, we had no choice. You're not wanted here. So you'll earn your keep."

And just like that, she was dragged into the kitchen to make lunch again. This life was all the child knew, and four years of it, meant that she never knew anything else.

Rivera's silver eyes shone through the darkness of the basement as she climbed the uneven and seemingly endless stairs. Her leg screamed at her as she forced herself to try and even out her weight. Her ribs jarred with each step, and her fingers bled with the effort of holding onto a stony wall. Her adoptive 'parents' had always hated her eyes, they said that was the reason she had no friends and that, that was why they wouldn't let her go out to town with them. They didn't want their own friends to think they had a freak living with them. But Rivera relied on them, without her eyes to see in the darkness... She knew she'd go insane.

They hadn't always called her a freak, at first; she just wasn't wanted. But one time, the first time, she'd fallen over outside while weeding the garden and her knees had gotten badly grazed. Vicki – one of her adopters – had come outside and witnessed the wounds closing themselves up. It all went downhill from there and her and Micheal said if she ever did anything freakish around them, she wouldn't like the consequences.

It turns out the consequences were not at all well liked. No food, being beat until she couldn't get back up. She'd never fight and usually, She'd eventually be shoved back into the basement. It was always at that point that Rivera was grateful for the small pathway between the door and stairs of the dark room, a broken bone never healed as fast as her small cuts.

Entering the kitchen, Rivera quickly lowered her arm from her ribs and turned a corner to be met by two pairs of angry eyes.

"About time! Now make breakfast and clean up the mess you make!" Micheal shouted, his face turning red with effort from shouting.

"Yes, sir." The silver-eyed girl said quietly.

Rivera's short black hair fell into her face as she worked around the hot stove. The bangs of her layered hair cut, often got into her eyes while she was bent over, doing any household task. She liked her hair, it was the one thing that her adoptive parents had no control over. They'd tried cutting all of it off once, it grew back the next day. Her hair was choppy and midnight black, its ends brushing her should blades. It fell forward as she moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients for breakfast.

The girl of eleven was used to the heat but she hated the anxiety and fear that came with every task she was given in the house. It always felt like Micheal and Vicki's eyes were boring into her, watching her every move and just waiting for a single, minor mistake to be made. Her jeans barely stayed up as she moved around the stove, they weren't brought for her, just found, abandoned, they were her only pair. Her shirt almost got caught in the flames as she cooked, it was almost in shredded. They'd found it in a dumpster for her.

Today was not her day. The smoke from the frying pan hit her senses all too slowly and suddenly, a heavy hand had hit her, her back slamming into the table that was directly behind her. All the breath was cast out of her and her ribs cried out in protest. The frail girl gasped in pain, her limbs locking themselves up in shock as Micheal towered over her. She cowered by the table leg as he struck her, his curled brown hair hardly moving an inch. He screamed at her, his dark blue eyes wide with rage as he left marks upon her pale skin. Rivera didn't know when she'd started talking through the beatings, but through the barrage of blows, she often heard herself repeat a single word. And today was no different.

"Psā...Psā...Psā..."

Finally, it was over, and Rivera slumped to the tiled floor, unseeing, unmoving. Micheal gave her one last kick to the side and stormed out the house towards the car, Vicki following in a swirl of auburn hair, her dark green eyes never even resting upon her adopted child's form. Only once they were gone did the dark-haired girl stop whispering to herself.

Maybe hours, maybe only minutes later, the silver-eyed girl struggled to stand as she heard a faint tapping in the distance. She held onto every surface she could grasp to follow the telltale tapping upon glass that seemed to call her into the next room. There, in the window of the blank-looking living room, was a dark owl, tapping its beak against the glass near the handle of the window, as if asking to be let in. She ran her hands over her arms as she hobbled closer, feeling the blood come away from her skin where Micheal's rings had hit.

Rivera would never be able to tell anyone exactly what came over her in that moment, but in a swish of pure unconscious decision, she unlatched the window for the fluffy animal to come in. The graceful bird flew in and hovered just a few centimetres above her, and for the first time, she noticed something clutched in its talons. A letter. She reached out her slightly bloodied hands and grasped the envelope, reading the front in a daze.

Miss Rivera Yume Woods

28 Elmstreet Close

Berkshire

The pre-teen trembled as she looked at the letter. But she decided to wait until it was safe to open it, looking up, she saw the owl had left, a feather floating to the ground in its wake. Rivera picked up the feather and held onto it tightly as she closed the window. Walking back towards the door to her 'room' in the kitchen, she decided to hide away the feather and letter until tonight and clean up now, so that when Micheal and Vicki returned, they wouldn't be as angry and maybe she'd find some time later – when they were both asleep – to read the mysterious letter.

The young girl limped down the dark stairs of the basement, her eyes well adjusted after years of living in the cold, damp place. She hid the letter and the feather underneath the dirty, old mattress that lay against the dusty floor, right next to a stack of drawings from years gone by. Racing back upstairs, as fast as one with a possibly fractured leg could, Rivera immediately began wiping down the stove's surfaces from this morning's breakfast-gone-wrong, and moping the surrounding area of tiles from all grease and her own spilt blood. She straightened the table and did the dishes, and dusted every area in sight. If the kitchen was spotless, maybe Micheal wouldn't hurt her again today.

By the time she had finished her long task, her adoptive parents had returned home, Micheal took one look around the kitchen and nodded. Rivera let a small smile slip onto her face for a fraction of a moment as he turned around, but she knew the day was far from over.

The day had been terribly long, after Micheal had left the room, Vicki began to give the silver-eyed girl her chore list for the day.

"Weed the garden, water the flowers, mow the lawn, wash the windows, hover the house – from top to bottom, make lunch, clean the oven, mop the kitchen floor, do the dishes, put on a load of laundry, dust the attic, iron and put away last night's clean clothes, peg out the newly washed clothes, make dinner, fetch in the clothes and once you're done, if you do everything, maybe you can have something to eat tonight."

Now, after a week of being unable to eat a damned thing, Rivera would do anything for a crust of bread. So she obeyed, and by the time she'd finished, she was about to drag her weary body down a flight of stone stairs, but Vicki stopped her.

"You did a good job today. Here. This went out of date yesterday, you may eat this and have half a glass of water." The green-eyed woman said, a smirk on her rounded face, as she held out a paper plate with a stale roll of bread on it.

Rivera took the stale bread with a small "Thank you..." and poured herself half a glass of water in a plastic cup. Vicki didn't like it when the freakish child used their china, so she brought plastic cups and paper plates for when they actually decided to feed her.

As Rivera turned to go back down into the basement, she somehow managed a "Goodnight, Ma'am," despite how hoarse her voice felt.

An unusual child-like grin spread across Rivera's face as the door to the basement closed behind her. Her excitement compelled her to run as fast as she could without spilling or dropping any of the meager meal she'd been given while putting the least amount of weight that she could on her pained leg. She sprinted down the stairs and across the basement to her worn mattress in mere moments. Putting the food aside, she picked up the torch that she'd found while cleaning out the shed a few months ago and clicked it on. Her silver eyes searched under the mattress for the feather and the envelope and the smile grew wider once she came to the realisation that the letter was real.

Sitting on the ripped bedding, Rivera propped up her bad leg as she felt pain course through it. The springs dug into her skin but she ignored them and turned the letter over in her hands. A scripted 'H' was imprinted in red wax on the back of the envelope, sealing it shut. It seemed a shame to break the beautifully crafted seal, but Rivera couldn't wait any longer. Cracking the seal, she lifted up the lip of the envelope and pulled out the piece of parchment within. Rivera took a few deep breaths as something surged through her, and she unfolded the fragile paper in her hands. She held her breath as she read the contents, something within her filling with hope again.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Woods,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. For those from non-magical families, the owl that delivered this letter will be awaiting your response from your rooftops.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Food forgotten, Rivera sat in a daze, her fingers grasping the letter, determined not to let go. She looked up towards the small, high window that was built into the basement's stony walls and for the first time in years, a fire lit in her silver eyes.

I sincerly hope that you all liked the first chapter of this fanfiction and that I've gained some readers willing to see where this story will go. I will be updating soon and I am already working on the next chapter. Until next time, my friends.

-Midnight13731 xxx

~Please review~