Chapter 1 – Emotionless

As the moon rose slowly into the inky black sky and when most "normal" people where tucked in bed peacefully, one girl sat huddled against the misty window, a lone tear slipping slowly from her emerald eyes which shone like watery stars in the darkness. The clock stroke midnight. "Happy Birthday to me," she said in a pain-laced whisper. Slowly she bowed her head and brought her legs up and under herself with careful precision to avoid the numerous injuries she sported and curled into herself on the ragged, thread-bare, rickety bed and her soft breath slowly evened out indicating sleep had descended. Every so often she would twitch and moan as she was caught within the depths of horror-filled visions of torture and death. And so this was how The-Girl-Who-Lived, Hazel Potter, spent the night of her 16th birthday.

* * *

"Girl! Up! Now!", screeched Aunt Petunia from the bottom of the stairs. Hazel rolled onto her side without a thought, wincing at the pain that raced through her body. She wanted nothing more than to snuggle down into herself on the bed and forget everything, Her so called "family", Voldemort and the prophecy' her doom.

"This is your last warning Potter! Get your bony backside down here before I call your Uncle to deal with you!"

Hazel cringed at the thought and mentally chastised herself for spacing out. The last thing she wanted was to be on the the end of her Uncles fist this early in the morning. She'd never make it through the numerous chores if she was. As she got older the more vicious he got and she slowly was beginning to fear for her life. Thankfully Hedwig had stayed with Hermione this summer so she didn't incite his anger anymore.

As quickly as she could she threw on her Aunts ragged second hand clothes and she half ran, half stumbled downstairs to begin breakfast. 'Eggs, bacon, beans, sausages....a full English I suppose' she mentally catalogued. Favouring her right hand , as her left had been badly broken by one of her Uncles more malicious stunts, which coincidentally involved a hammer, she proceeded to make breakfast with the ease of one having learnt to adapt to situations such as these.

'My 16th birthday spent slaving to my relatives. Well I suppose it's the same every year. Why would I expect any different?' she thought idly as she began to make some French toast.'Then again your 16th is supposed to be special. Only one more month I have to endure. Surely he wont have killed me by then?' she mentally sighed. 'Maybe it would be for the best if he just did already. All I ever do is get people killed!' she cringed thinking of her parents, Cedric and now Sirius.

So engrossed in her thoughts she didn't spot her Uncle come down the stairs. His piggy eyes had already noticed his breakfast, including his lack off black coffee, just the way he liked it every morning. He smiled evilly, delighted with a chance to punish his "dear" niece. He crept, amazingly, in near silence for such a whale of a man, behind his niece and without warning, as she bent over the stove, he caught her already broken left hand and placed it flat down on the scalding ring.

Hazel was jolted back to reality by the sharp pain and smell of burnt flesh. She barely managed to suppress a scream as it would only encourage her Uncle. Her flesh began to sizzle and melt and just as she thought she would pass out from the pain, her Uncle let go and whispered evilly as she clutched her hand to her her chest, "I don't think you'll be forgetting my coffee anytime soon now, eh?" He settled down to his breakfast just as Dudley, her cousin, and Aunt sat down at the table. He thrust a piece of paper, almost 4 foot long, at Hazel "Your chores! Get them done today, or else...." he threatened nastily.

Though no tears fell from her emerald orbs, they were screwed up in pain, anger and defeat. She would never finish all this. She sighed , all sight of breakfast lost with her Uncles punishment this morning and decided to get a start on the outdoor chores first before the noon sun set in. All thoughts of her birthday flew out her head as she mentally calculated a plan in which to gain as much productivity as possible from the long list of chores.

Halfway through lunch, as she was putting the finishing touches on the paint job she was currently doing and so focused on her work she didn't notice a pack of owls fly in the back door, until......

"Potter!" her Uncle screamed from inside. Hazel shivered with dread. She knew from his tone that whatever she had done now had warranted the worst punishment he had to dole out. This wasn't good. And as she trudged slowly inside she saw a pack of owls swoop out the back door. 'Oh no', she stopped horrified. This was going to be a hard one to endure as she had committed one of the worst crimes and displayed her freakishness for the whole world to see in broad daylight. She trembled as she slowly stepped inside and blinked quickly so as to adjust her vision from the brightness of outdoors. Therefore she didn't have a hope of seeing her Uncle's pudgy hand fly from behind her and backhand her across the room. Caught off guard, she slowly sat up, seeing stars, trembling from the pain.

Again his pudgy hand came flying towards her and she curled up in a defensive ball, muttering "Please don't, I'm sorry Uncle, Please.." He grabbed her by her straggly ebony hair and dragged her upstairs, flung the door open to Dudley's second room and threw her onto the bed so hard her head cracked against the opposite wall and she almost blacked out.

She waited for the assault hoping against hope that it would be just a beating, as sad as that sounded. But as she waited longer and her Uncle still hadn't touched her she knew it was a lost cause. She looked up dejectedly into his crazed eyes.

"You know what to do" he said viciously as he backhanded her again. She nodded numbly despite the pain and lifted her skirt high and pulled her pants down. She lay down flat on her stomach waiting and listening as she heard the metal of his belt buckle come undone and the sound of his zipper coming down enthusiastically. Then the sound of crumpled clothes falling to the floor and the bed dipping with the extra weight at one end and this is where she looked within to escape. She delved deep within herself to a place she created, her sanctuary, which funnily enough bared a resemblance to the lake at Hogwarts. She felt the wind whip through her hair and the fresh grass tickle her bare toes as she sat contented in her imaginary world. Not thinking on the pain she would feel later.

And so in all semblance her body had become but an empty shell as she lay limp to her Uncle's mercies, her emerald eyes devoid of any emotion and for all the world resembling death itself. Definitely the worst birthday yet, and she still had the rest of the summer to look forward to.