A/N I've began writing again! This little story wouldn't leave me alone. This is Merope Gaunt's tale. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter One:
Dust particles floated through the air, unwanted yet beautiful in their own way. Merope glared at the offending speck. What she would give to be perceived as beautiful. Pushing herself up from the straw filled sack that she called her bed and attempted to cover it with the threadbare green blanket. Merope quickly dressed in her grey wool dress and after looking at the stockings that were in desperate need of darning, left them off reminding herself to mend them later in the day and slipped her feet into the large brown slippers to ward off the cold. As she made her way into the kitchen she sighed with dismay at the sight that greeted her, she had left for work the day before and stayed late to help with the preparation of the young master returning home. She could care less about some idiotic muggle returning home but appreciated the extra coins in her pocket.
She tied the large apron around her waist before hauling the old metal bucket out she filled it with water from her wand and cast a quick warming spell onto the filled bucket, she pulled the bar of soap out of her pocket that she had bought with her wages and began scrubbing the floor. She was careful not to touch the edges of the bucket as they were sharp and ragged as they hadn't been sanded down. The routine of dunking the stiff brush into the soapy water and scrubbing the years of grime off the floor had become therapeutic and she had become so engrossed in her actions that she didn't notice the footsteps until it was too late.
Rough hands grabbed the nape of her neck and dunked her head into the bucket of water. The liquid flowed into her mouth that was still open from the cry of shock she emitted before she was emerged in the water. Thin fingers grabbed onto the edge of the buckets, trying to free her. The water burned her nostrils and the soap was stinging her open eyes. Just as she was about to give in to the bliss of unconsciousness, the grip of her hair slacked and she gasped for air, coughing and spluttering at the water that had invaded her senses. As her gasps continued Marvolo kicked at the bucket, spilling the liquid over the floor, he grinned as the bucket hit its target and the sharp edge cut Merope's cheek. Not satisfied with the damage he had already caused he aimed a few kicks at the cowering form of his daughter. "Cleaning like a filthy muggle, on your hands and knees like a common animal." He sneered before using his wand to rectify the mess he had created, "should have just used a scourigify, it was good enough for my mother and it'll be good enough for a bloody squib like you."
Glaring at her, he moved to sit at the kitchen table and watched her attempt to stand, when she didn't move fast enough he pointed his wand at her and sent a cruciatus curse at her, watching in delight as her body thrashed in a familiar way. Noticing as her eyes began to cloud over he removed the curse from his daughter and watched as she slumped on the floor in a delightful way. Rolling his wand along the table he watched as the girl carried out the rest of her duties, namely making him breakfast.
Morfin trampled into the sparse room as the smell of bacon and eggs wafted to him, as always he had his pet snake hanging out of his pocket, which he occasionally stroked in a suggestive manner, daring the rest of his family to comment on his companion. When no such comment was made, he frowned, a dangerous glint worming its way into his eyes. He began to hiss lewd comments to his snake about his sister and began to touch himself, not breaking eye contact with the form of the girl in front of him. Merope's already pale face, lost the little colour it had, making the vivid slash on her cheek even more vibrant as she looked to her father for help. Marvolo narrowed his eyes at his son and threw a nasty hex in his direction, causing the younger man to cackle manically. "It's not like the Blacks or Malfoys would want her, it would be hard enough to marry her to a bloody muggle. Why not let me have her?" Morfin smirked, licking his lips. Marvolo looked between his children before sighing, "If she's not wed to someone suitable in a year, you can have her." He decided, ignoring the look of horror on his daughters face, or the fact that his son had returned his hand to the underneath of his trousers.
"I have to go to work." She muttered before setting the breakfast things to wash, using her wand to please her father, but this seemed to be over looked. "Working for muggles, what's next working for pigs? They should be pleasing us! You'd better fix that cut up, don't want those nosy buggers in our business" he growled, spurred on by his son's agreement and fixed the cut on her face so it left a faint pink scar. Merope ignored the conversation, only slightly flinching at the feel of her skin fusing together, before returning to her room to get dressed in her uniform that had been provided by the Riddle's. This was one of the things she loved most about the job, slipping on the petticoat and dark maid's dress, before tying a pristine frilly, white apron around her and securing her lank locks into the dainty cap, allowing a tendril to escape. She pulled on her work stockings and secured them with magic and slipped on the shiny black work shoes she had been provided with.
Looking in to the cracked glass that she used as a mirror, she frowned at the girl staring back at her. Sallow skin, that didn't revitalise even after she had vigorously pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to try and invite colour in. Looking at herself critically, she decided she could live with the greasy, pale skin, and the lank, stringy hair, but the bane of her looks was her eyes. Individually they were the best thing about her. Long thick lashed lined them and the deep green was beautiful, the only problem was that her eyes didn't seem to want to look the same way. She could be staring straight ahead and her left eye would still manage to wander to the opposite direction.
She had tried everything she could think of to rectify it, from reparo to a confundus charm but nothing worked. She began to accept it the way she accepted the majority of the things that happened in her life. She began to see it the way she saw the squalor that they lived in, the way her father and brother treated her, the way the neighbours stared when she walked past. They were all things that she couldn't change, just a part of her life. Turning away from her reflection she quickly left the rickety old shack, pocketing her wand before closing the door behind her. Ignoring the patchy grass and empty bottles that littered the front garden, Merope made her way over to Riddle Manor.
A/N And that is chapter one! Please let me know what you think.