Author's Note: I own nothing. All aspects of the wizarding world are Rowlings. Sorry if this starts a little slow but in a couple of chapters familiar characters will be introduced. It is set in the time of Harry's parents at Hogwarts.

A Soul for Satan

Chapter 1: Libera Me

She had known for two years now. She had lived each day with this knowledge unable to harness it, unable to use it, unable to escape. At first the letters had been destroyed, and then they had started moving. At first it appeared a temporary solution. But now it really seemed possible that they could just keep on running forever. Why had no one come? They had changed her name, changed their own names, in all sense of the muggle word they had disappeared. Why did this Dumbledore think one more letter would make any difference after all this time? It was useless thinking about it, she would be two years behind now, she hadn't even been to a normal school in two years, never mind this wizarding school she was supposed to be attending. She was home taught but this only catered to her mothers skill. She was well versed in religion, music, English and art. But a part from that her knowledge of anything was sparse. She had been sheltered from the outside world, on so many levels she was naïve yet she had lost her innocence early.

Holly knew she was special, she knew she had something her parents didn't. She was a witch but what this meant she had no idea. She knew it wasn't like Wicca or Satanism, she had looked these up at the local library once when her step father wasn't watching. These things had nothing to do with innate knowledge, and try as she might she could find nothing on Dumbledore or Hogwarts.

Her step father was afraid, after all he had put her through he couldn't risk her gaining the power to take her own revenge. Little did he know that Holly had buried her plans of revenge years ago. If he let her go she wouldn't tell a soul what he had done, she would merely sever all connection with him. This life offered her nothing. Although revenge was undoubtedly appealing, it was pointless. The anger had faded years ago all that was left was acceptance, numbness and small shreds of hope.

Holly's mother was too weak to help her. She could have been a good woman if life had been kinder. She had run away from an abusive father when she was fourteen then joined a cult in south Devon. Holly was born there. Her mother escaped just after Holly was born, but unfortunately she fell into the hands of another abusive man, Gerald Fedra, Holly's step father. He was a conservative man who saw nothing but immorality in both mother and daughter, and insisted on beating the devil out of both of them. But the devil had remained in Holly. Before the letters Gerald had merely wanted to turn her into a god fearing women but now he wanted to purge Holly of her wickedness, this deformity of mind that he felt was consuming her body. Dumbledore was a messenger of Satan and Hogwarts was a school of fornication and sin. She was infected with evil; just like her whore of a mother. Gerald believed it was the evilness of the cult that had polluted the daughter with immorality. Holly wasn't sure what she felt, she had been so indoctrinated by her step father that some days she did feel evil. Some days she felt so angry she broke things with her mind, she was beginning to scare herself.

It had always been tough living with Gerald. But things hadn't always been so bad, he had always beaten her mother but once she was diagnosed with brain cancer he had moved on to Holly. She was about eight; at first it was just beatings but later it became systematic. I guess some might call it torture he called it endurance. It was on her tenth birthday that he first sexually abused her, he had touched her she had cried, he had hit her and she had died a little inside. It wasn't the last time, he kept trying, but his hands would always begin to burn and become inflamed when he touched her like that. He knew something was wrong. He tried to tell himself it was the devil in her but he secretly knew it was the devil inside him. When the first letter arrived two years ago in the summer of 73 it all stopped and he never touched her that way again. He was scared, scared of what they would do, what she would do when she harnessed her power. He kept her locked away, with only her sick mother for company. That's when he began moving them. Every three months he would give them new names and dye their hair different colours. He felt it could go on forever this way; he had broken both of them and he had rendered them incapable.

Exactly two months ago Holly's mother had given into the cancer that was suffocating her brain. Gerald had buried her wasted body in the desolate Yorkshire Moors late one April night. They packed up again and this time it wasn't just another city it was another country. They got on a ferry at Cromer and went to Holland, they then travelled east into Germany with the intention of slowly travelling through Poland and then north to Saint Petersburg. They had been in the German city of Bremen for the past six weeks now.

Her mother's death had spurred Holly into action. She hadn't grieved instead she had put all her energy into planning her escape. Gerald was at work most of the day and he locked her in the house during this time. When they had first arrived he had chained her to the sink but he had stopped this last week laughing at his own stupidity in thinking she had the capability to run away. But he was wrong Holly was far from giving up. She was merely biding her time waiting for the right time to strike. The most important thing was giving herself enough time, she needed as many hours as possible to put miles between her and her captor. He always left at 8 am and came home for lunch at midday returning again at 1 and was home for 4 pm sharp. However this Thursdays he had to go to a training course in Hanover and he would be gone from 8 in the morning till about 10 at night. He didn't know that Holly knew this; but she had overheard a hushed phone call when he thought she was asleep. All she knew so far is she would leave and catch the bus to Amsterdam. Then she would find shelter and then somehow contact Dumbledore. She knew his owls would find her, they had found her everywhere they had run too. How long the next letter would take though she wasn't sure, the letters came less frequently now. At one point it had been every day, but now sometimes weeks past without the creamy envelopes with the red wax seal and emerald writing sliding through the letter-box. She knew Gerald would come looking for her, but he would have a hard time as he wouldn't dare go to the police, and the city was unfamiliar and vast. Furthermore he might have a good idea she would flee to Amsterdam but he wouldn't be sure, buses left Bremen thousands of times a day to hundreds of different locations. She had enough money for the fare; she had found thirty deutschmarks under the mattress in their rented apartment. She was ready.

Gerald left that Thursday morning with the instruction that he would be back at twelve. She was sure this was a lie, but not so sure that she didn't get to work straight away. The door was locked fast. She stood in front of it and concentrated her thoughts on what he had done to her, she slapped herself across the face, and it stung. She compressed all her bad memories and tried to make them as vivid as her mind would allow them. She thought of his old wrinkled hand moving up her thigh, she saw only red…the hinges on the door exploded the door fell out of its frame with a thud This wasn't what she had planned, she had only wanted to silently unlock it, but she was far from understanding or controlling her skill. She knew she had to run as soon people would emerge having heard the bang. She could already hear voices. As she hurtled her way down the flights of concrete stairs, heads appeared from doors; they called to her, they shouted but she didn't hear them. She had to get away, she had to run.

When she had arrived at the bus stop she tried to remain composed and calm. She knew how to blend in; she was used to being invisible. She got off the bus six hours later in Amsterdam. She was dead tired and the streets were dark and sleazy. She found a derelict building somewhere near the central station. She sat in a corner and shivered, the place was sheltered but it wasn't a safe place to be. There were remains of small fires, needles, used prophylactics and beer cans littering the floor. It must have been about midnight when her light slumber was disturbed by a prostitute servicing a middle-aged, balding customer. They didn't seem to care that she was there, but she got up and left anyway, she didn't want to be sleeping in a place like this. But she knew she needed to stay put, if Dumbledore was to have any chance of finding her. She wandered the streets for a while, until she stumbled upon the museum set up in the house of Anne Frank. She felt like it was a sign. The book had meant a lot to her when she had read it last summer. She knew how it felt to be locked up. She lay her head against the doorway, feeling comforted for the first time that day. It felt right to rest here, but she should only stay for a little while……

'Me excuseer Misser?'

'Misser?'

The words came to her like an echo reverberating across a infinite space.

'Misser?'

The words became louder, no longer part of her dreams, her eyes fluttered open. Where was she?

'U kunt hier geen Misser blijven, staik het museum te openen op het punt .'

She felt dazed, 'Excuse me?'

'Ah so' he said changing to English, 'Miss you're going to have to move on this is a museum.' He looked at her strangely and then smiled 'Miss you shouldn't be here by yourself, where are your parents?'

'Um, … I went for a walk. I think I have lost track of time', she lied.

He didn't look convinced. But he shrugged you got used to such sights in a big city. He could tell by her face and her clothes that she was a run-away, but how odd that she should have an owl with her.

'Well I should go and find them', she got up to leave.

'Miss, your owl?'

Her eyes grew wide, 'What?'

'Your owl.'

Her head turned to the large snowy creature perching patiently next to her. By it's feet a letter with the red seal of Hogwarts staring at her. She picked it up greedily, the man watched her carefully.

'Miss, you sure you are quite well?'

'Quite, I'm just a bit dazed, I've been ill recently. I really must go I think my parents will be worried. Thank you Sir.'

'Goodbye Miss.'

'Yes, Goodbye' She said whilst staring intently at the owl; would it follow her? The man was still watching her curiously. She gave him a weak but dismissive smile and walked away and to her joy the owl followed her. She made her way to the next street and sunk down against a wall. She turned over the letter, revelling in the fact she finally held one of the letters in her own hands. The green writing spelt out;

Miss Holly King

The House and Museum of Anne Frank

267 Prinsengracht

Amsterdam.

Her face broke out into a huge smile. She felt her heart soar out of her chest. She opened the letter. She had never been allowed to read any of the letters before, all she knew was it was about a school concerned with wizards or 'charlatans' as Frank called them run by some 'bastard Dumbledore' She opened it and read;

Dear Holly King,

I hope this letter finds you well. We here at Hogwarts are becoming extremely concerned about your situation. The new school term starts in two months and again we urge you to attend your third year. Your magical powers need to be exercised before they become redundant. We understand that the fact you are a wizard may have been a shock, as it often is for muggle borns. However we really must insist you rethink your decision to forgo the wizarding world. Living as an underdeveloped witch in a muggle world can be highly dangerous for yourself and others. We have received your letters detailing your Christian values and your parent's letters explaining your reluctant and abhorrence of unnatural practises. However we would like to offer you a visit to Hogwarts this summer so that you can see for yourself that there is nothing to fear. Please get back to us as soon as possible.

Yours Faithfully

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

She began to cry, they had no idea. They didn't realise that her hand had been forced to pen so many letters. The tears ran down her face, mixing with the ink and forming pretty patterns on the creamy parchment. The owl cooed reassuringly, she wiped her eyes, she had to act quickly. Time was of the essence.

She got a pen out of her pocket and turned over the letter, she wrote quickly as the massage had been impregnated in her mind for years now.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I need help. I have not been able to attend your school because I have been kept at home against my will. I am in Amsterdam; please find me before he does.

My most sincere thanks,

Holly King.

She attached her response to the leg of the owl, he hooted affectionately and people stopped to stare as he flew away. Some people looked at her suspiciously. But one person, an American business man smiled 'Got a way with birds I see' and with that a two florin coin landed at her feet. 'Keep out of trouble' he warned but he was smiling. She tried to smile back but the gesture felt foreign and unpractised.

She felt so lucky, she found a little café and ordered a hot cup of coffee and a pastry. She could keep hidden here; she put a newspaper in front of her face and kept her nose down. She didn't know how long the owl would take and how long this Dumbledore character would take to find her. She didn't know how long she could sit there reading a newspaper she clearly didn't understand and nursing an empty cup of coffee. She managed to stay in the café till midday when the waitress politely asked her to either buy something or get lost. She wandered the garish streets for a couple of hours realising that this constant movement would make her harder to find. But did she want to be found? Who was Dumbledore, was he part of the cult that had abused her mother? Her mother had said she had never heard of the man, perhaps she had lied. The letter was very nice, but appearances can be deceptive… she'd learnt that from Gerald. She remembered how nice he had been to start with. He had bought her sweets and toys. He was funny and charming…he was a bastard. He'd ruined her, she was ruined, her nerves were shredded, her body emaciated and her mind unhinged. Recovery was an impossibility, it was all about moving on now. But to where? Where was life taking her?

'Holly!' She heard it and faulted, she span round; where was he?

'Holly stop!' Where the hell was he? She panicked.

She turned and ran, she didn't know if she was going towards him or away. She was weak she could barely run and there were two many people. She felt like she was in slow motion and the tourists were made of stone. The street went blurry as blood rushed to her head clouding her senses. She could hear him running, hear him panting; 'Someone stop her, she's stolen my wallet!' Then more shouts 'She's a pickpocket!' 'That man's wallet!' 'Thief!' 'Stop that girl!'

She was falling; the ground was not there any more. Her head hit the concrete with a sickening thud but she didn't hear it. All was black.

She came round slowly. He had been slapping her. Her face and t-shirt were drenched through. At some point he had emptied a bottle of water over her. She could feel the bricks against her back. They were shaving off her skin like sandpaper. He was talking but it sounded backwards. He punched her in the ribs and then grabbed her long hair pulling her down, her legs buckled under her.

'You little bitch, thought you could escape that easily!'

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry'

'You will be more than sorry soon. Have you contacted them? ……C'mon answer!'

'No'.

'You stupid slut!'

He hit her square in the face, she tasted blood.

'No? Then how come some guy saw you with an owl? Answer me! ' He raised his fist…

There was a flash of red light and then everything went black for the second time that day.

Author's Note: Please review and tell me what you think!