Teenage Lycanthropy: Chapter One

So I'm making a sad little story about a teenage werewolf. Again, I own nothing. Sam stars again. Only now she's Sam Warren. She is eleven years old now and a werewolf. (Sorry if it is confusing. Most of my OC's are named Sam, but it is not the same girl as before.)

My name is Sam Warren. But people don't care. They wouldn't care even if I was a pretty veela. I'm a werewolf, that's all they need to know.
I've been against werewolf prejudice my whole life, even before I was one. I don't even know who it was that attacked me, so I can't even hate him/her. What if he/she was just another person that couldn't help it?
I say I've been against it before I was bitten. Well I was five so who knows? My mum confirmed my thoughts though, so I know I remember.
My mum was a beautiful witch. She had pretty red hair and clear blue eyes. Me? Well...my hair was always cut short like a boy's. It still is now. I have brown hair, and green eyes. Scars from the wolf cover every inch of my body. I look nothing like my beautiful mother.
Perhaps I look like my dad. I've never met him. I used to try to ask my mum about him, but she'd always change the subject which makes me wonder: Is her dead and she's sad? Or was he a horrible man that left her?
I said I used to ask my mum about him. Well that's because she died, three years ago, when I was eight. Now I'm at this horrid orphanage, where all the kids hate me for what I am. But it's not my fault. It's not my fault that I have to lock myself away so I don't bite anyone. It's not my fault my old, patched clothes are baggy and hang on me. It's not my fault I was bitten.
But no one cares what I think. I'm just a filthy half-breed, and I'm starting to believe them.
And if I were a normal kid, I'd be going to Hogwarts soon, like my mum. My birthday is today, but no one even knows, or they just don't care. It's probably both. It's July 27th, my birthday, and I couldn't be more miserable.
The full moon was last night, and I am so tired. I feel like sleeping, but I'm in class even now. Merlin forbid they actually let me rest. No, it's my fault for staying up all night. It's my fault I'm getting detention for the rest of the week for not doing my homework. That's all they say. It's all my fault. I'm at summer school because it's all my fault I am weak at least a week out of the school year. Everything is my fault.
But I can't help but feel a twinge of hope. Maybe I'll get into Hogwarts, I mean, I'm still magical, right? I can jump off a swing, and fly through the air for seconds before landing gingerly on my feet. They hate it when I do magic. They send me to my room without dinner for doing something normal kids are allowed to do. No wonder I'm so skinny.
The clock ticks, and the teacher's voice is barely in my ears. I feel my head nodding, and my eyes drooping. "Warren!" someone yells angrily.
I jerk my head up. I had only closed my eyes for a second. I wasn't even asleep. "I suppose you'd like to teach the class?"
The students laugh mockingly, but the embarrassment doesn't even reach my mind I'm so tired. "No ma'am," I mumble. I was hungry too. I had slept late, and hadn't gotten breakfast. The orphanage refused to pay the extra lunch fee at school. I had missed dinner last night to find a place to hide. I just hoped I wouldn't do something wrong and get my dinner taken away.
I barely even hear anything as the lunch bell rings. I pull my bag over my shoulder and wince as it comes in contact with my tender flesh. Maybe I could beg for food from the other students. I dismiss the thought. I don't want to go that low. They probably wouldn't let me have any anyway.
I sit at a table by myself, knowing no one will sit next to me. I realize my blood must be soaking through my bandages, because my brown shirt is spotted with dark spots. I head into the bathroom carrying my bag with me.
I open the door to the bigger stall of the gratefully empty bathroom. I pull my shirt gingerly over my head. I whimper as I peel off the bandages. It hurts, especially where the blood has partly dried. I try not to let my blood get on the floor of the bathroom as I replace the bandages, but that is impossible, and I soon give up, hoping they won't notice and call the orphanage because then it will be good-bye to another meal. I pull my shirt back on, and I take off my shoes and socks. I pull my pants down my legs, shuddering at the horrible gash that has made it difficult to walk all day to my classes. I re-bandage it up, and put my pants back on. I take off the bandages that cover almost half my face. I put fresh ones on and finally pull my socks and shoes back on. Finished, I try and see what I can do about the blood on the floor. I try to get it all off, but the floor is still pink as I leave, limping.
I sit back at the empty table. No one has sat there. I pull out my newest retreat, Treasure Island. I try to read, but my eyes can't focus and eventually I set the book aside after realizing I've read the same line ten times without comprehending a word. I rest my head on the table when I hear someone say my name. "Miss Warren?" I look up, wondering who wants to attack me now. Usually they leave me alone for fear of facing murder charges when I am this weak. They sent me to the hospital for a serious concussion before. Luckily, my head wasn't as bad as it had seemed.
"Yes?" I ask, wondering who the old man standing in front of me is, and why he bothered to talk to me.
"I wish to speak to you, perhaps in a teacher's office or something?"
Suspicion alarms go off in my head. An empty office with a stranger? Fat chance. "I think it'd be better if I didn't," I say, perhaps a bit too rudely. "sir," I add.
He chuckled. "I understand your mistrust. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
I gape for a minute. I had only dreamed of that place. Why would it ever accept an ugly monster like me? "S-sorry?" I ask dumbly.
"I would like to offer you a place at my school."
I can't help a smile forming slowly on my lips. Hogwarts?! I never believed I would go there. It was just a hope, a hope I had every second of every day. A hope where I would go and learn something useful, not muggle rubbish like they taught here. But it was impossible, and too good to be true.
"It's too dangerous," I mutter bitterly as the smile leaves my lips.
"But I would like to tell you a secret. Can you keep a secret?"
"I dunno. No one would ever trust me with a secret for me to find out."
"Well we have had a student at Hogwarts who was a werewolf. There are certain safety precautions, but it worked out just fine for him."
I look at him, wide-eyed. "You're not joking?" I ask.
"Not at all."
"This isn't some cruel joke that the students are playing? This is real?"
"Of course, though I doubt I would tell you if I were "in" on some joke. So my question is, do you want to go to Hogwarts?"
Too stunned to speak, I merely nod. "Excellent," he says as he gets up to leave. "And by the way Sam, Happy Birthday."

Note: Let me explain a little about Sam. She isn't all "My life is so terrible" usually. I just had to put that in to show that it really was. Actually, she kind of has an "I don't care" air of personality. She's loyal to a fault, and would slug you if you insulted her friend, Timothy. Timothy was her friend when she was four. This was before she was a werewolf but he was one. He died a year after they met. After Sam got bitten, her mum slowly got sicker and sicker, sometimes not even recognizing Sam. She doesn't know what her dad is like.
So, anyway, she really does have a good personality. She's sarcastic, serious, tough, and loyal. She holds grudges, but never prejudices.

Note(2): I might add more to it, if I get a couple reviews asking. But be forewarned: I'm good at beginnings, and ends, but not middles. If I continue, the middle might not be so good, but I'll give it a shot if you ask. Ideas are more than welcome. I don't know what year Harry will be in, if and who she'll be friends with, or anything. I'm not good at pairings but I'm willing to give it a shot as long as it is…well, appropriate. Criticism is more than welcome as well.

Note(3): I forget what I was going to say, but please R&R!