These were the last few days before her 3rd year at Hogwarts began for Samantha Black.
She proved she wasn't a traitor, like her father, last year.
Voldemort had possessed her and forced her to do terrible things like—well, terrible things. And she'd had defeated him.
Sam shuddered.
Sam did not have a clean record. The first time she had ever run away from 'home' she had been six, and now, at age eleven, she had never stayed in one foster family for more than a month. When ever she got a good family that actually liked her something bad always happened to them. Always.
Just before school started up again she'd been sent to another family. They were poor, but Sam didn't care; she'd never been exactly rich herself. Well, technically there had been a time when she had been rich, but it didn't count. In this new family of hers her last name was Jordan, and she had two little sisters, Heather and Rachel. Rachel was still a baby, and Heather was four. And Sam really loved them like real sisters, but in her mind she thought of her only real brother to be Harry Potter. Yes, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. In reality they were cousins, but it didn't matter to Sam. She had told him countless times he was her brother, and over the years had done anything to be with him for his birthday or for Christmas even if all she brought him was a piece of chocolate he'd beam up at her and look like the happiest boy in the world.
But this year she hadn't come. Harry wondered why no one was there to make him laugh this year. Why no Sam was bursting through the door (Why knock?). And most importantly who was scaring off Dudley, who loved to harass Harry on his birthday.
This year she had to work. Minimum wage at Wal-Mart because she didn't want to shoplift Harry's present this year. Though she didn't have much of a problem with stealing, especially from large chain stores, she did have a problem with giving something that was stolen.
Samantha Black would never, ever forget her little brother's birthday. And this year was going to be his best birthday ever! She was going to take him away from the Dursleys and he was going to Hogwarts.
She was confident that Harry knew all about Hogwarts because she and Vernon and Petunia Dursley had a huge fight before she had left last year. They had to have told Harry.
A lost little girl with long black hair was running through the poorest part of the city. She heard a loud 'bang' and began to sprint and came across an old wooden fence.
At the bottom of the fence was a tiny hole not even she could squeeze through. The fence was so old and unstable there wasn't any way to climb it with out breaking at least a bone or two, which wouldn't be good. How could she get to St. Mungo's? She had only been there once to see her mother, and her father had done something to the glass…and anyways. How could she get there?
Without pausing a moment or thinking about the pain that would follow the little girl threw herself at the wooden fence.
CRACK
The wood had allowed her through only to find several men dressed in red and black…
"W-who are you?" she stammered. There was silence and then…
"Look you're obviously not an Untouchable, and so you've got a choice."
She nodded slowly.
"You can get you're hands cut off," she gasped, "you can get…taken care of," that could not be good…"or you can join."
She thought a moment, joining is the easiest thing! Everything else sounds too scary… just then she remembered something her uncle had said to her 3 years ago, when she had been three
"Sometimes making the right choice isn't as easy as making a wrong one, but always do you're best to try and be good," James had said.
Oh well, James didn't even follow his own advice! And I have no family! Plus EVERYONE hates me! I need some friends…
"I'll join," she stated simply
The two Untouchables had shocked faces for a moment and the first one began talking slowly, "OK, we could use you,"
"Umm…how?" asked the second.
"Well...we could… send her in…you know like with a wire!"
"OK, but listen, kid. There's something that's…required…well, several things really. Firstly, you need at least one tattoo that says 'untouchables' and you gotsta wear red and black…well not really you just cant wear yellow… so on with the tattoo."
The two grabbed her arms and pulled her into a small house and in to a tiny room. They took out a needle and dipped it in to the black ink…
Then there was a piercing scream…
Sam's piercing scream cut through the silent night, and she shoot up in a cold sweat. Almost instantly, she fell down and went back to sleep. She didn't remember the dream the next day…
Sam was finnaly living with a Wizarding Family, so no one was shocked when an official looking owl came in, perched itself on the back of a chair, and held out it's left foot with a letter dangling off it's ankle.
Mrs. Jordan, a woman with short brown hair leaned over to grab the letter, glanced at it, and handed it over to Sam.
The letter had an official-looking seal one it with a large 'H'. Sam ripped the letter open and read the books required for next year, and also the permission form for Hogsmeade, an entirely magic village not to far from Hogwarts.
Her 'mom' gave her the vault key to get in to the money Sam's dad had left her and a fist-full of floo powder. She signed the Hogsmeade form and let Sam go to Diagon Alley alone so she could watch Heather and Rachel, whom she had to take to daycare so she could go to work.
"Wow!" exclaimed Fred Weasley
"Cool!" George Weasley, Fred's identical twin said.
"Wicked!" gasped Lee Jordan (no relation).
Sam had met up with her three friends infront of the window of Quality Qudditch Supplies where they had been drooling over the Nimbus 2000. But, of course, stupid Fred had to remember his stupid tradition where the three poked Sam's forehead for as long as they could with out getting severly injured.
"Can I touch it?" they all chorus simultaneously.
"Umm…I guess so? Isn't it kinda sad you guys are just noticing my scar" she chuckled, playing along with the 'tradition'
"Well if you're stupid bangs weren't always in the way!" joked Fred.
"Shut-up, Weasley!" she yelled in mock anger, "Nobody asked you anyways" she said as she flicked her head away from him. "Anyways do you guys have to touch my scar at the beginning of every year?"
"Of course!" said Lee.
"It's tradition!" stated George.
"Well, do you have to act like you've never seen it before?"
The three thirteen-year-old boys looked at each other a moment…
"Yes," they all said together.
They all leaned over and touched the sideways, moon-shaped scar in the middle of her forehead, courtesy of Voldemort. Being The-Girl-Who-Lived got old pretty fast…Even thought she had become friends with Fred, George, and Lee she was still very fond of the muggle world because she didn't get the horrible questions she got here. Just after the three boys had touched her scar, open-mouthed a couple of ditzy second year girls came over to them.
"Like, is it true that you're father tried to, like, throw you off a flying motorcycle when you were, like, a baby?"
OMG
Im so sorry this chapter sux the next one is where the cool stuff happens!
Michi