I am sorry for taking so long. I've been trying to redo this story because I saw all the mistakes I made. I am also trying to redo my story, MY Little Girl. I'm going to try and update My Little Girl once every week and this one every two weeks at most. I'm going to have help thanks to GoldenPhoenix823, my beta.
If I see more people liking this story, then I'll try and update it every week, like the other one. I have a lot going on, but I am trying to get better about my updating.
Anyway, for this story I have a poll up about whom Rowen will fall in love with. By the end of MY Little Girl, this poll will be over.
Oh and I am switching this back to a T story. I don't want to go into the M rated stuff for my own personal reasons. This story and my other story really hit home for me.
If you have any questions about this story or my other one, please message me. Also do not forget to review! I love all reviews, I'll even accept flames. So, Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) cannot claim ownership of Harry Potter (no matter how sexy the characters are) but Rowen is my character so if you steal her, FEEL MY WRATH!
[Rowen]
My name is Rowen Holly Potter and I am a freak.
My story is not a happy one, it is a tale of lies and deception, of hatred and grief but in order for you to understand it I must start from the beginning. Not my birth, but the beginning of the end of my life, or what I thought would be.
I was four, almost five years old, when it happened, I was sitting in my cupboard, crying. Uncle Vernon hurt me again. He often did, but never before had he gone this far, although later on I would be shown that he could and would go further.
I was huddled in a tight ball clutching my arm to my chest, as I tried desperately to stem the flow of blood oozing from my wound, but to no avail, the front of my shirt was already soaked with the crimson liquid. Tears of agony were streaming down my face, however, I remained perfectly silent, I was obviously in shock. Uncle Vernon had hurt me again, He often did, but never before had he gone this far. I honestly couldn't believe that he would ever do something like this. Don't get me wrong, though, I understood why he would, he was frightened of me, of what I could do to him and his family, even though I had no control over it.
Throughout my life, I had always done things that I could never explain. Things that I would be punished for, no matter how many times I apologized and swore I would never do again. Like the day, my cousin, Dudley, and his friends, had chased me around the day care center with the intention of beating me up when they caught me, in attempt to get away from them I leapt behind a cluster of trashcans and found myself on the roof. The instructors told my uncle of the incident and I was thrown into my cupboard for three days without food.
I never understood how or why I did the things I did, all I knew was that I was a freak because of it, and freaks can never be loved.
The day care workers were always irritated and wary of me, and the Dursley's hated me, something they made sure to make very clear on a daily basis.
The neighbors think I'm strange too. I can tell by the way the look in their eyes, when they look at me they see a too skinny girl with long tangled red hair, dull green eyes, and sickly pale skin and instantly assume that I'm not in my right mind, a rumor Uncle Vernon was quick to encourage.
I'm getting to off track though, back to that day.
I don't know how long I spent in my cupboard, the blood loss was making me woozy and unable to think properly, however, when the door to my cupboard opened, I cringed away. Was Uncle Vernon back to finish the job? Was he here to kill me? He wasn't. It was Aunt Petunia, but to my surprise she didn't yell or hit me, all she did was stare.
I didn't say anything for fear of being punished, then I saw the look in her eyes. She was staring at me with pity and… sadness. For a moment I felt hope, was she going to finally show me the love I had craved since arriving at the Dursleys? But then her eyes went cold and I flinched.
"Come here," she whispered harshly, frightened of further punishment, I complied.
She grabbed me by good arm and dragged me from the cupboard and upstairs to the bathroom, all the while I made sure to keep any blood from dripping onto the floor. Uncle Vernon wouldn't appreciate that.
Aunt Petunia sat me on the edge of the bathtub, then pulled out a first aid kit "Arm" she ordered, I was scared of what she was going to do, but I held out my bleeding arm anyway. Roughly, she began to clean it. I whimpered, when the wound on my arm throbbed painfully, but didn't struggle, I didn't want her to stop healing me.
Slowly the blood was cleaned away, revealing the fresh wound carved into my forearm, a single word.
FREAK.
I heard Aunt Petunia's breath hitch, and when I looked up saw tears in her eyes. Why would she cry for me? She hated me.
Slowly she finished wrapping the wound and gave me back my arm along with a clean set of clothing.
"A-Aunt P-Petunia? Why?" I whispered after I had changed into the new clothes.
I should not have spoken. I had forgotten the rule. I had forgotten the most important rule of the Dursley household: Do not ask questions.
Instantly an almost evil look flashed in her eyes. I cried out as she grabbed my head and threw me into the bathtub. She turned on the water and began messing with my hair.
I tried to free myself from her grasp, but she slapped me in the back, making me almost howl in pain. Uncle Vernon had hurt my back only a few days ago ago, and it was still healing.
"Stay still!" she shouted. I stilled, now only focused on trying to make sure water didn't go up my nose. I heard cutting and I felt Aunt Petunia rubbing something in my hair.
I could also hear her muttering.
"She's not her" she said "The little freak only looks like her. She's dead, the bitch is dead. I'll show the freaks. She isn't her,"
It truly terrified me. She never cursed, ever and to hear her muttering like a mad woman, it frightened me.
After what felt like hours, she made a small noise of approval and stepped away from me. "That should do it…" she muttered.
Slowly, I lifted my wet head up and stared at my reflection. I choked on my scream.
My red hair, my pretty red hair was gone. In its place was ugly black hair that was cut so short, I looked like a boy.
She made me face her and despite the tears pouring down my face she gave me a sickly sweet smile.
"Your name…is Harry James Potter" she said sweetly, poking a finger at me.
"B-But I'm R-Row-" I tried to stutter out, but she slapped me across the face. The tears poured faster.
"Isaid…your name is Harry. James. Potter" she spat at me. Then she put on that sickly sweet smile again.
"Now...what is your name?" she asked sweetly, but I knew it was anything but. I wasn't as stupid as Dursley were led to believe I was.
Nonetheless I sighed and said "My n-name is Harry..."Aunt Petunia patted my head roughly before pulling me down the stairs.
"When's the girl making dinner, love?" Uncle Vernon asked Aunt Petunia.
"The boy, darling," she corrected him as she dragged me into the living room. Uncle Vernon and Dudley turned to us, their eyes wide.
"The boy..." Uncle Vernon said looking to Aunt Petunia.
"No one has truly seen her. They'll forget about her and know only him." She explained, then elbowed me in the side, an obvious cue.
"M-My name i-is Harry J-James Potter," I whispered, broken and defeated.
There was a moment of silence, then "Go and make dinner, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted.
And so my fate was sealed.
My name is Harry James Potter and I am a freak.
