Disclaimer: I do not own this story, or the characters—they are the creation of the all mighty J.K. Rowling bows down. The only characters that are mine are the one's you don't recognize…;-)
Author's Note: Okay, everyone. I've never done an HP fanfic before, so bare with me. A note to all of you, this story is the same story as demonstrated at Quizilla by WhenIRememberToForget (which is my penname there). I thought I might as well publish it here, as well. So…. Read and Review! Tell me what you think!
The house was finally empty. It had taken days, but all the furniture had been put into storage. The only thing occupying the house right now was the millions of memories that floated around the air, catching and ensnaring her, as she fought to remain control.
She fiddled with the handle of her duffle bag. This was all that remained in the house. Her body, her bag, and her memories. She shook her head.
At the moment, fifteen-year-old Carina Star wanted none of it. She didn't want, or need, her possessions, she could do without her body, her life. And most of all, she really couldn't deal with the memories. They were happy memories, from a time when her life had been complete.
A time when she had been carefree and happy, not sad, quiet, and troubled. A time when her parents had been alive.
The memories rushed back, overwhelming.
"Miss Star, Miss Star, will you listen please?" The man had been kind, but his patience had been worn thin. His was a difficult job.
Carina stopped squirming and looked curiously at the man in front of her. Just moments ago, the phone had begun ringing, incessant and demanding. The man had picked up, his face becoming graver and graver with each passing second.
She had been sitting in this cramped office for a little over an hour. Her parents worked for the government, and were often out on important missions. And besides their normal jobs, they both worked for a secret society, The Order of the Phoenix. Whatever that was. She knew it was an anti-Voldemort group, but that was pretty much it. She actually wasn't very sure what they did, for the government, or for the Order. They couldn't tell her—it was top secret.
They were two days late from their latest mission. Carina had finally decided she should phone the government, to see if they were detained on work. They weren't.
The office had insisted, however, that she report to them immediately, so that they could begin investigations.
"Miss Star, I'm afraid I have bad news," the man said, dragging her back to the present.
"Yes?" Carina inquired.
The man drew in a deep breath. "I'm afraid that your parents have been killed in a car accident." Carina stopped moving and sat still.
"I beg your pardon?" She asked, in a voice that betrayed her vulnerability.
The man sighed. "Your parents are dead. There was a car accident, and they were caught in the middle. It's quite tragic; they were so young, and so promising. I assure you that we will do our best to make sure you are cared for."
Carina nodded dumbly. The world faded out. She was vaguely aware of the man continuing to talk.
"Tragic… so young…car accident… so sorry…"
"What will I do?" She asked, a lot calmer than she felt.
"Your parent's died without any apparent will, so you'll be living with your closest relatives." He looked at a sheet of paper in front of him. "Your Aunt Gertrude and Uncle Boris. Do those names sound familiar?"
Carina nodded again. Yes, all too familiar. She'd met her aunt and uncle only once before, but even at eight years old, she had disliked them intensely.
Aunt Gertrude had once been a great beauty, with big blue eyes, blonde hair, and a large chest. Her looks had faded with age, and no amount of procedures, medical or magical, could return her looks to their former glory. Because of this, she was often quite bitter, and enjoyed using violence against those prettier or younger than her. Unfortunately, Carina seemed to fit into both of these categories.
Uncle Boris, if anything, was worse. He was the kind of oily, slick, charming man who would plant a knife in your back as soon as look at you. Distrusting, suspicious, and overly skeptical, Uncle Boris made enemies easily. Enemies that happened to disappear with a surprising regularity.
The man was still talking, Carina realized. "Naturally, you will no longer attend your old school—France is much too far for you to go for school. You will transfer to Hogwarts."
Carina stared at him. Her parents—dead. Living—with her horrid aunt and uncle. And Moving—to an entirely new school. What could be worse than that combination?
Silent tears coursed down Carina's cheeks, but the man didn't notice. "Now, the funeral arrangements…"
"Carina? Carina!" The voice was her aunt's. "Are you almost ready? We're going to be late!"
"Yes, Aunt," Carina called with a silent sigh. She glanced around her old bedroom for perhaps the last time.
Her eye caught on her reflection in the crystal window.
She had once liked to see herself, liked to laugh at the warped image in the fine glass. She didn't laugh much anymore.
Carina Star had been born with naturally pale skin and brilliant silvery-blonde hair that shimmered when the sun hit it. She was curvy in all the right places, with a mouth made for smiling. But what she had loved about her appearance most of all was that her eyes were not just one color. Carina Star had one blue eye and one green eye. Most people viewed this as a disfigurement, Carina's mother had been fond of saying, "It makes you beautiful. With plain blue eyes, sure you'd be pretty, but this brings out your human nature, and makes you truly beautiful." She'd never be a conventional beauty, but that was fine with her.
"Carina!" Her aunt called again. "We're going to be late for the meeting. We still need to drop your stuff by the house."
Aunt Gertrude ushered Carina out of the house and into a cab. Carina watched the house disappear from the window. She was glad Aunt Gertrude had opted to Apparate instead. Now she had some alone time.
But it seemed like no time at all before they rolled up in front of a distinctly dark looking house. The knocker was shaped like a skull, and grime coated the windows. Carina couldn't imagine fussy Aunt Gertrude living in a house like this.
She paused before stepping inside. She had the distinct feeling, as she stepped into the house and the musky odor of decay overwhelmed her senses that she was leaving her old life behind as she did so.
Author's Note: Well, that's the first bit. It'll get better later on, I promise. But I hope you liked it… so review and tell me what you think! Thanks :-)
