DISCLAIMER! THE PLOT IS MINE BUT THAT'S ALL! DISCLAIMER!
Dear Miss Lillian Evans
You have been invited to attend Hogwarts school for witch craft and wizardry. We are the foremost school in the country and we expect your reply no later than August 31st. The train for school leaves on September 1st at precisely 11 o' information about this school and its classes are on a handout inside the envelope. I look forward to your reply.
Yours sincerely
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster
"Whats this rubbish!" Mr Evans screwed the letter up and launched it across the room in a drunken haze. "ROSE! ROSE!" he bellowed for his wife, who was frantically trying to prepare breakfast not two feet in front of him. "ROSE! SO HELP ME GOD!" his anger rising with each alcohol fueled second he was ignored.
"Yes.." Mrs Evans replied hesitantly, careful to stay out of arms reach. Mr Peter Evans rose to his feet, a bottle in one hand his other clenched into a powerful fist. She knew what was coming, it was inevitable..
"Daddy! daddy!" Petunia, their daughter came dancing into the room instantly taking her fathers attention.
"My little Petunia" Peter smiled drunkenly, his first born daughter was the only thing in the world he loved and she was exactly like him. Blonde, tall and with a long face that had a air of cruelty to it no matter what.
"Where's breakfast!" she screeched at her father pointing to the empty table and then the food still cooking in the pan. Peter said nothing, he simply turned back to his wife her eyes filled with terror and he punched her so hard in the face her head hit off of the stove and she crumpled onto the floor in a matter of seconds. He then seated himself next to his daughter at the table; Petunia looking on as if nothing had happened.
Mrs Rose Evans, picked herself up and resumed cooking. Not daring to touch her face which was burning with pain or to let any tears fall from her eyes. She couldn't let on how much they were hurting her, it would only get worse or they might even turn on Lily. Lily Evans was her youngest daughter and thankfully not the offspring of her husband, Rose had had an affair 12 years back and had called it off as soon as she had found out she was pregnant. Peter would kill her if he found out, so far he was none the wiser and that's how Rose wanted to keep it. Lily is special. She needs to be protected.
At that precise moment the young girl on Rose Evans mind walked carefully into the room and seated herself silently at the table, across from her sister and brute of a father. Peter didn't even acknowledge her presence, while her sister fixed her with an half superior half envious stare. Lily is beautiful, the spitting image of her mother, long thick auburn red hair, large emerald deep set almond eyes and a complexion that was something akin to pure alabaster; not a single flaw.
To Petunia lily was a freak, to Peter lily was a nuisance, to Rose she was an angel; her single point of light in a world so dismal and dark she could drown.
"Good morning" Lily said as her mother began serving the food onto plates; Peter and Petunia first. Her father simply grunted and Petunia only sneered. Only her mother could grace her with any sort of kindness, the smallest of smiles. Enough not to attract any unwanted attention. At once Lily noticed the large red mark on her mothers cheek, already turning into a bruise. She hated her father, she hated her sister. Lily would give anything to runaway with her mum and never come back.
"You, bring him" Mrs Black ordered to her maid servant. Immediately the middle aged woman retreated from the dark parlor room and walked hurriedly towards the cellar door. The deafening silence throughout the Black family home was enough to drive even the most level headed person the brink. This house wasn't a place to be happy, it was a place you were lucky to escape.
Upon reaching the discolored cellar door the maid servant lit a decrepit looking candle, creating a small light and then hurried her footing even more so, desperate to reach her goal. She managed to close the door behind her gently before running in leaps and bounds down the steep winding staircase to the basement, all the while protecting her little light with a cupped hand. "Sirius? Sirius!" she called, her voice resounding gently off of the cold brick walls.
A broken child's voice croaked back in reply "Silvy? Silvia?". The young boy stepped out of the darkness and into the sad light of her little candle. The clank of chains rumbling over the cobbled floor clashed like the sound of the thunder in Silvia's heart.
"Sirius!" she rushed forward, dropping to her knee's and clasping the small boy in her arms. The candle illuminating every mark of dirt on his pale skin. "Your shaking angel, oh my sweet boy. My little Sirius" she brushed her hands against his short well trimmed black hair, the only part of him that didn't look haggard."I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner, your mother wouldn't let me leave her side". She clutched the fragile boy to her body and refused to let go, not until his shaking subsided.
"Silvy? Has it come?" Sirius leaned back and pierced his maternal figure with hope filled Grey eyes. Silvia burst into tears, nodding her head vigorously and sobbing 'yes' over and over again. His salvation had finally come.
"She wants to see you now, you must be statue, don't give her any excuse..." Silvia rambled to a halt. Mrs Black would give any excuse to send Sirius straight back to the basement, it was a form of punishment she loved dishing out.
"I'll be careful...mum" Sirius said carefully. He peered deep into his surrogate mothers old brown eyes and saw the love for him that radiated like the summer sun. He would be careful, he would make her proud.
"Come on angel, she won't wait much longer" Silvia, lead her charge through the cold empty house and into the private parlor room, where Mr and Mrs Black awaited the arrival of there eldest son. She gave Sirius an encouraging squeeze of his hand before letting him take the final few steps alone.
The black wooden floors made no sound at the touch of his silent feet. He walked mechanically into the lair of two waiting Dementors in disguise. Mr Black sat on the rigid brown leather couch, clutching a piece of parchment in one hand and an envelope in the other. Mrs Black faced the window looking out at the world and the Grey clouds that reflected Sirius' own eyes.
"Sirius."-Mr Black waved the letter mockingly in his young son's face-"Hogwarts apparently have an interest to teach you. I don't presume to understand why they would want to teach a sniveling lout like yourself. But here is it. You'll be leaving in two weeks, you will not be welcome home for the holiday's. Is that understood?" Sirius nodded once in confirmation. "Also, you will uphold the traditions of the Black family and will not besmirch our name. Or so help me god...an 'accident' may occur" the enunciation could not be mistaken for its threat. Mr Black was a man who kept his promises, Sirius had no doubt about that.
