New story. Don't own. Abusive themes. Happy ending. Enjoy.
What is in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. And that's what I am. I am Rose Black. That's right, my father is the infamous Sirius Black, the right old bastard that sold his friends out to Voldemort.
At least that's what people say. I've never been able to bring myself up and say my father did the things he's accused of. Maybe that's because he's my father and I look up to him, but I just have feeling in my gut that he didn't do it.
Anyway, as I said before my name is Rose Black and today is my first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I can't say I'm not afraid, but I hope that people can look past my father and see me. I should have known I was being too naïve.
For the past eleven years I have been living with, more like working for, my cousin and his parents. Yes, the one and only prat of all prats, Draco Malfoy is my cousin. How did I get the misfortune you might ask?
See, when my father allegedly told Voldemort about the Potter family and was sent to Azkaban Professor Dumbledore gave me to them to take care of me. Since my dad was the only Black not to get into Slytherin and befriended who he did you can see the problem.
Living with the Malfoy's, I decided to keep the last name Black, was hell on earth, I was basically a slave for them. I was worked like a house elf and beaten constantly, but I never let that get in my way. I knew I was a witch and when I got to Hogwarts I was going to prove them wrong and not be in Gryffindor.
That was before I heard about whom my father was. When I found out I cried for awhile before pulling myself together. Lucius wanted me to break down, to stop fighting, and I wouldn't give him the pleasure of that.
Then I got a letter from Hogwarts saying that they wanted me to intend. Lucius was furious at first, but than cooled off and got me what I needed. The first wand that was put in my hand, Sandalwood nine and a half inches with unicorn hair in the core was the only wand I needed to try.
They then sent me to the school and told me that before long I would be begging to come back. I didn't get what they meant, but than I remembered my father. It was widely known about him.
On the train it took me forever to find a place to sit alone, but no one ever did join me. I wasn't sure why until I got off the train. Draco was telling everyone that I was just like my father that I was out for blood.
Since it started as a simple rumor everyone heard about it and no one knew me well enough to say I wasn't. I wasn't even five minutes into my first school year at Hogwarts and everyone hated me. The whole thing continued down hill from there.
I was near the middle of the call list for the hat. When it was placed on my head I didn't jump like everyone else. I had read enough books to know all I needed to know about Hogwarts and magic itself, although I wasn't expecting the hat to yell out Gryffindor.
As I suspected, everyone knew who I was at that time and they also knew my father. No one clapped when I was separated into Gryffindor. I'm almost positive I heard people say that the hat was an idiot for putting me in anything else but Slytherin.
For my first year of school I spent all of my time reading and studying. I kept practicing any spell I could get my hands on. I barely noticed anything that was going on around me.
The teachers even acted weirdly around me. None of them liked me and would dock points for things that made no sense to anyone. I was alone and I was starting to feel my reserve cracking, but I didn't stop. That year, I received the highest markings in my year.
Summer was as fun as I expected. It didn't matter that I proved I was smarter than the rest of the kids. I was still treated as a slave. I didn't understand why people didn't like me.
On my birthday I didn't get a break or anything. I continued to work. The house elves wouldn't even talk to me. They were all too scared that I was like my father, but I continued to believe my father didn't do anything they said they did.
The beating got worse over the summer until I was almost too weak to walk. Lucius got my books for Hogwarts and I was on the train again. And just like last time no one dared come into my compartment.
Throughout the year I was working so hard that I had to go to Madam Pomfrey because of starvation. I still didn't stop though. The spells I was learning were advanced for my age and I needed to prefect them.
Then the Chamber of Secrets opened and students started to get hurt. For the first time ever I was scared to be at Hogwarts. All of the students blamed me. Some of them went as far as to beat me up.
When they found out it wasn't me I didn't get an apology. No one said a damned word to me. I began to truly believe that no one wanted me alive. On the last night of school I decided to try to take my life.
Dumbledore must have seen something wrong because he was watching me the whole night. His eyes were barreling into mine and an owl dropped a letter into my lap. I was shocked at first, but when I saw that it was from Dumbledore I sighed sadly. He just wanted to see me in his office.
That night he tried to get me to talk. I couldn't. I couldn't explain to him how much it hurt to know people hated me for no reason. He stood next to me and told me his door was always open for me.
When I got to my room I found that I couldn't bring myself to do it. Everything Dumbledore said made me feel like I was finally not alone, even if I couldn't talk to him myself yet.
That year I received the highest marks in my year again and no one said anything again. This summer was just like last summer and my birthday was like any other day of the week.
Then the news came. My father had broken out of Azkaban. When Lucius gave me the books for the New Year I was tempted to beg for him to let me stay, but I didn't. I knew that he would send me just as a punishment.
Right before school started I found a new habit that seemed to help me. At least it made me feel anything but the numb feeling that was looming over me. I had started to hurt myself.
I read every book I could find on self-mutilation. I didn't find out a lot, but it didn't stop me. As dangerous as it was I didn't want to stop. I knew it was a step in the direction of killing myself.