Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OCs and the new classes. Any and all other characters, places, ideas, and things belong to J.K. Rowling, and to J.K. Rowling alone.
This fanfic can also be viewed on .com under the pen name of EbonyRose.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Summary: My name is Rose. My life before my 5th year was hell, my thoughts tormented with thoughts of revenge... and my sleep with memories. This is my story where i learn how to forget...and forgive. This is my life as I endure my 5th year at Hogwarts, a year that is much different than the ones before. This is my story.
I left the house around nine in the morning for King's Cross, pushing a little cart with my school trunk and cat carrier. I live only a short ways away from the station, but I like to get there early. It means I don't have to vie for an empty carriage, and don't have to feel all those eyes stare at me as I go by. And I wanted to get away from the house. Or more accurately, my foster family. They always seemed to be looking down their noses at me, finding something wrong with me, no matter what I did. It was always "Rose, you didn't clean all of the dishes!" moments after they dirtied the dishes I just cleaned. "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. Didn't you know that the cat had got shut in your room for the entire day? We keep telling you to leave your door open!" when I walk in to the overwhelming stink of feces after coming home from work at the Leaky Cauldron. I have a hate/hate relationship with my foster family, and I can't get away from them until I'm seventeen. My wizard social worker, who has arranged where I've lived for the past six years, has told me that staying with the McCayver family is to protect me. But I think it's to protect my family's murderers from me. I can still remember hearing my older sister beg for mercy while I did behind a painting in the house, my own little cubby space. I don't regret much my mother dying. But then they went after my father, older sister, and baby sister. That I could never forgive. Then I was moved from orphanage to orphanage, then from family to family. Sometimes I thought that the vow for vengeance I made six years ago at the age of nine was the only thing that kept me going.
The blast of a train whistle broke me out of my reverie. I glanced at the clock. 9:32. I had plenty of time. I casually leaned against the barrier between platform nine and ten. A scarlet steam engine greeted me, the first welcome sight I'd had for many weeks. Even as early as it was, there were a few Hogwarts students already there. I ignored them and their gazes as I walked towards the end compartments, pushing my trunk ahead of me. Amber mewed impatiently, wanting out.
"I'll let you out when we get settled. You can wait a few more seconds to get out. You'll survive 'til then," I reassured her. Amber quieted. Sometime I thought she knew exactly what I was saying. She's gotten stranger over the years. I thing Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, has been teaching her a thing or two. Hermione is in my house, Gryffindor, and is two years older than me, in her seventh year.
As I was loading my trunk into the last compartment on the train, the conductor paused as he passed by, smiling as he greeted me.
"Good to have you back, Rose."
"Good to be back," I said earnestly. "I couldn't wait for the summer break to get over."
"Planning on entering the talent contest this year? You should really show off that voice of yours." He shot me a concerned look, but I didn't meet his eyes. I never do. To anybody.
"No, but thanks for the compliment, sir." I blushed slightly, embarrassed. I never get very many compliments. And I can still remember that embarrassing moment when he caught me singing one of my own songs to myself while looking out the window as I watched the smoke billowing from the train make sinuous shadows on the mostly empty platform two years ago.
"Oh, all right then. It's your choice. But I still think you should." He just doesn't give up, does he? I thought to myself.
"Well, I'm not going to. I prefer to watch." And not get laughed at, I added silently.
"Okay. You have a good school year," and off he trotted, leaving me to devise a way to get my heavy trunk into my compartment, short of magic. After heaving my exhausted body onto the seat and closing the doors, I leaned back, resting after the grueling experience of lifting what felt like a ton of bricks.
"MEOW!" Darn that cat! Just as I was starting to fall asleep! About to give my ungrateful bag of fur a good tongue lashing, I realized that I hadn't yet let her out. God, did I feel guilty! I hurried to open the carrier, apologizing profusely to my cat, who just flicked her tail in disdain as she hopped onto the seat in front of me and curled up in a batch of sunlight. Typical, I thought. She wants out of the cage to walk around and stretch her muscles, and what does she do? Curl right back up in the same position in a different place, and goes to sleep, purring all the while. I rolled my eyes. The was so soft, and the sun was warm upon my face. I closed my eyes.
