The orphanage was cold and silent. A chilling breeze raced down, swaying the dying flowers planted outside the front door, and a lone wolf howled in the distance, directing it's call towards the glowing full moon nestled in the dark night sky.
A small girl sat in her bedroom on the fifth floor, curled up on the window sill and watching the outside world. Her curly, chocolate brown hair pooled down at her sides, glistening underneath the moon's light.
Emerald green eyes shining, she gazed at a deer that pranced out of the woods and over the front lawn. It's amber fur shimmered, reminding the girl of magic she'd read about in stories. It's blackish brown eyes darted around nervously, before it raced back into the forest's safety.
A small smile spread across the girl's face and she opened the window slightly. A cool, gentle wind greeted her, but she ignored it and stuck her hand out.
She did this almost everyday. She liked to feel the outside air on her skin, as she barely ever got to walk around in the outdoors. It was a nice feeling for someone like her.
Holding her hand out, she brought it back in after a few minutes. She rubbed her swirling green eyes and decided to go to bed, as it was almost midnight.
Once nestled in the small, rickety bed she called her own, the girl shut her eyes. She soon fell into a restless sleep plagued with horrifying dreams of a pale man shouting gibberish and the screams of two adults.
Three years later, the same girl stood, hunched over a sink, washing dishes, in a building that wasn't the orphanage. She was 13 now, and had grown a considerable amount. Her brunette locks had also grown quite a bit over the years, hanging at her feet. Right now, however, they were thrown into a braided bun on the top of her head.
She was dressed in a pair of black leggings, a black skirt, white t-shirt, and a white apron hanging over her skirt. Her feet were small and pale, as were her hands, although they had long, nimble fingers. Her face was deathly white with heavy bags hanging underneath her formerly-sparkling green eyes, and her legs were long, skinny, and agile.
Lost in thought, the girl stopped scrubbing the plate in her hand for a second. She let it fall back into the sudsy water, her eyes glazing over.
A loud voice interrupted her daydreaming, however. An angry woman with graying hair stormed in. She was clad in a royal blue dress that was obviously to small for her and a pair of eight-inch, black high heels.
"Eliza!" she screeched. "What is the meaning of this?! I thought I told you to do the dishes 30 minutes ago!"
The girl- 'Eliza'- stayed silent, knowing not to talk and that the woman would keep screaming.
"You good-for-nothing girl!" the woman yelled. "You can't do anything right! Anything! Why did I even adopt you in the first place?! You're no help to me! You're no help to anyone!"
The words stung Eliza like a hornet. Hurt was etched on her face as the woman continued shouting at her.
"Clean my bedroom after you're done and vacuum the living room. Now, get back to work!"
The woman left, turning dramatically and marched up the stairs to her large, furnished bedroom.
"Yes, Gwendolyn," Eliza muttered, going back to washing the dishes with a much angrier speed.
Miles and miles away, a certain black-haired, 13 year old boy with a lightning bolt scar was boarding a train. For him, this would be the start of a year that would change many, many things.
A/N:
I know, I know- Harry Potter sibling stories are super cliche. I really couldn't think of anything else, though!
By the way, this takes place during the Prisoner of Azkaban, as Harry is 13 (if you couldn't tell, the certain black-haired, 13 year old boy with a lightning bolt scar was Harry).
Happy Belated New Year!