A/N: So, this is the beginning of my rewrite of this story. I don't know if I'll actually be updating this any time soon, but it was really bad, so I went back and edited it. I'll be editing the other chapters soon, since my school just let out, and I'll have more time for writing and posting.
"You dirty little Squib! I told your father we should've gotten rid of you as soon as possible!"
The Squib in question, a petite girl with long, black hair, barely flinched as an ice cold hand made contact with her face. She bit down hard on her pale, cracked lips, drawing blood as her mother's long, sharp nails cut into her cheek. Tears welled up in her pale grey eyes, but she merely swallowed hard, forcing them back.
Without glancing at the calendar, she instinctively knows that it's her 11th birthday. Some birthday present, she thinks.
"I'm s..s…so..rry," she mumbled.
"Sorry? You're sorry? You can't apologize for what you have done! You have brought shame on our family!"
"I'm so…so sorry…"
"Is that all you can say? I'm so sorry! Too bad that's not enough in this case! This isn't an ink stain on the carpet, fool! This is…this is a crime!"
The girl's mother reached out and dug into her ear with her nails then dragged her along, ignoring the girl's winces and whimpers. The haughty woman forced her daughter down the stairs, descending at a steady pace so the girl didn't fall. She walked confidently, her black pumps clacking loudly on the recently polished stairs. Her blood-red, perfectly manicured (stained with the blood of her daughter) nails skimmed the shiny-smooth, lacquered oak banister, following the slight curves of the gently spiraling staircase. On one of the landings she paused, vainly, to examine her reflection, in a handsome full-length mirror positioned perfectly, just for this reason. Her daughter watched in disgust, and tried to keep her mouth shut.
Her mother had a skinny, pale body, draped in an elegant, emerald-green silken robe. It came down to the just above the floor, and swished with her every movement. Her hair, dark and graceful, was pinned up with not a hair out of place, framing a cold, emotionless face with pale green eyes and thin lips like her daughters. The girl standing behind her was completely different, yet very similar. She had the same ink-black hair, but kept it tied back, woven in a long braid, an object of disdain for the mother. She had wide, pale grey eyes that seemed too large for her small face. She wore Muggle clothes, another bad habit her mother wished to rid her of. Today, it was blue skinny jeans, a lacy green top, and a pair of Converse sneakers decorated with pictures of magical creatures. Staining one of her cheeks were four long cuts, blood dripping from them.
"Vain, much?"
Her mother sneered at her.
"At least I have a reason to be vain. You, however, look absolutely hideous in that ridiculous Muggle garb."
"Yeah? Well at least I don't look like I have a stick up my a—"
Her mother cut in, "I will not have that kind of Muggle profanity used in my household, young lady!"
She scowled and then winced again as her mother pinched her earlobe again, and resumed dragging her down the seemingly never-ending staircase. They marched past father and brother, who barely looked up from the copy of the Daily Prophet they were sharing. The young boy glanced up at his big sister, and opened his mouth to say something, when his father whispered in his ear. He cast a longing look at her then, tears in his eyes, and small mouth quivering continued reading the paper with his father.
The girl started to whisper a farewell. "Goodbye, S-"
"You will be quiet if you know what's good for you." Her mother hissed.
"Of course, mother."
She scowled at her daughter, then finished their journey in a few quick strides, and entered the entry hall. She gave a quick wave of her wand and summoned the 11 year olds meager belongings.
"Now get the hell out of my house, Squib!"
The girl jolted out of the house, her small assortment of belongings floating behind her smacking her on the back repeatedly. Running as if her own personal demon was chasing her, she finally collapsed a decent distance away on dry, cracked grass. A letter floated in front of her face. Muggle money escaped from its folds along with a map showing a place that would take her in. Almost like she had planned this, she thought bitterly. Despite that fact, she couldn't help but let the happiness and freedom of the moment to completely envelop her. She gasped in pleasure as golden sunlight washed over her cold, pale skin for the first time.
Her mother stood in the doorway breathing heavily, waiting for the girl to run back home, crying and pleading. She would not let her back in, for she would not live with a Squib, especially one she had produced. Shuddering in disgust she eased the door closed and walked stiffly back into the living room.
"You will speak of this to no one. Cassiopeia is too fragile to attend Hogwarts. Understand?"
She glared at her husband and son, who nodded in mute agreement. Satisfied, she began to ascend the stairs to her bathroom, where she could freshen up for her visitors that evening. The Zabinis.
A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Please review! It means a lot to me!