I am the person that nobody has heard of. I watched in the shadows as the war was fought before me. I have heard details of torture, mayhem, and insanity since I was about four years old. My name is Kaysie Jane Lee and this is my story.
My parents were murdered as a casualty of war. They were in the way of the Dark Lord, and therefore had to be disposed of. He didn't know about me or he would have killed me too. They hid me using magic, knowing that I would be safe. But then Bellatrix came along, and she sensed me. I remembered looking through the crack of the cupboard that they hid me in. Voldemort had torn my home apart and left. The house which held so much laughter and love seemed darker, colder, and for once in my life I didn't feel safe.
My parents knew they were coming. They wrapped their arms around me and kissed my hair before shoving me into the cupboard, begging me to stay silent and putting protection spells around it. Usually when the witch or wizard who casts a spell dies, the magic wears off, but they were good at what they did. As I sat in the cupboard, holding my breath and wondering what I was going to do, the air seemed to shimmer and then everything became clearer. I knew it wasn't safe to come out.
The woman who calls herself my mother-Bellatrix Lestrange-ripped open the door, and I saw her for the first time. Her eyes were gaunt and passionless, she wore a sneer on her face, but when she saw me, her expression softened. She stowed her wand away in the belt of her robe and looked me up and down. My hazel eyes met hers.
"What's your name?" She asked reaching for me. She lifted me out of the cupboard.
"Where's my mum?" I ignored her and looked for the body.
My parents had talked about the killing curse before but it usually left a body. This time, there was nothing but dust. Whatever they did made Voldemort want to wipe them off the face of this earth. Tears sprung to my eyes as they found two piles of identical dust. I rushed past the brunette witch and sank down next to the pile. Tears streamed down my face and I was inconsolable.
Hidden under the pile of ashes, I found my mother's wedding ring and locket. I grabbed them and tucked them into the pockets of my jumper. Bellatrix Lestrange was not a woman-er-witch known for her compassion, but instead of lashing out, she just watched me. She didn't stop me. She just watched. After about five minutes of sobbing, she walked over, pulled me to my feet, sank down and looked in my eyes.
"What's your name?" She asked again.
"Kaysie Jane." I answered through tears. I didn't know what was going to happen to me.
"Not anymore. Your name is Cora Ophelia."
And before I could object she had apparated me to what would be my new home. It felt more like a prison. The walls, though ornate were still black. The rooms were always cold no matter how bright the hearth burned. And that was where I stayed until I was about fifteen.
I had very little interaction with anybody who was not a death eater. When the Aurors came to arrest Bellatrix she had managed to convince a novice to take her place, casting a permanent glamour spell on her, and then went into hiding. She kept talking about the day the Dark Lord would return. She trained me with knowledge of the death eaters before me. She sent me to Durmstrang to learn more dark magic.
Everything changed my fourth year at durmstrang. This was when I first entered Hogwards-when I saw the Harry Potter that everybody mocked. When I witnessed kindness and felt accepted. I never fit in at Durmstrang. It was not the school for me. But as I saw how the houses at Hogwarts interacted, I knew I had stumbled upon something great.
And that's where our story starts. At the beginning of my fifth year of what was supposed to be Durmstrang. I woke up, just like another day, hating myself. Hating my life, wishing to end it, but knowing it wouldn't matter if I did. Nobody knew about me. Nobody even knew my real name. I did. I laid in bed, and whispered it to myself, swearing that when I turned seventeen, I would leave, return to my true identity and never see the world of magic again.
I heard a knock on the door and covered my head with my pillow, wishing it would just go away. It didn't. The door creaked open and I groaned.
"Oi! Get up. We've gotta catch the train."
Of course it would have to be him. The platinum daddy's boy who I hated almost as much as my mother. To say that though would get me into trouble. One thing I learned in my family situation-keep your mouth shut if you don't want to be cursed. I removed the pillow and glanced at the clock. It was barely 5 A.M. I sat up and glared at him. His sneer made me want to drive my fist into his face.
"You have to catch the train." I corrected him. "Durmstrang doesn't start for another week."
"Mummy dearest didn't tell you?" He feigned innocence.
"What are you on about?" I reached over to turn the lamp on my bedside table.
"You're a Hogwarts student now. So get your arse out of bed, or I will make you. Because if I'm late...well let's just say it won't be good for you."
"The house elves have had me packed since a week ago." I responded, running my fingers through my hair.
"That's not what I'm talking about." He shot back. "Your mum wants to see you. Now."
Of course she does. I thought. I planted my feet on the ground and stood up. I drug my feet into the corner, slipped on a fuzzy robe and then trudged down the stairs, nervously twisting the wedding band I had saved when I was a child.
She was waiting for me, legs crossed in an oversized arm chair, want pointed directly at me-a warning not to say, or do anything stupid.
"Hellow mother." I greeted politely but not genuinely.
"Sit, Cora." She used her wand to gesture to the chair opposite her. I complied with her wishes. She spoke again. "You're transferring to Hogwarts. It's time that you join the fold and do what I've raised you to do."
I knew what that meant and every part of me screamed in protest. I would be branded with the dark mark and there was nothing I could do about it.
"Are you sure?" I hoped my hesitation would help.
"Are you defying me?" She leaned forward, studying my expression, looking for rebellion.
"No." I squeaked. Ten years of abuse had me terrified of any movement. I sat still awaiting the next move. Behind me I heard the double doors swing open. Voldemort swept in gracefully, almost wraithlike, except wraiths were beautiful. he was cold, and heartless, and it reflected in every feature of his body. He towered over me, with pale, most-likely cold skin. His eyes glowed red and his nose was replaced with snakelike slits.
"Hello again Cora." His voice haunted me. It seemed to permeate the air. "I'm so glad that you've decided to join the death eaters. Let me see your arm please." The 'please' threw me off and I found myself holding out my forearm. Suddenly I found my voice.
"Not here." I pulled it away. "Not if I'm going to do what you want me to do. It can't be seen."
I expected to feel the cruciatus curse but didn't.
"Very well then." He responded. "where would be a better spot?" I thought about the Hogwarts uniform and in response slipped the robe off my left shoulder, exposing the skin. "You're a smart girl. You'll do well in Slytherin. Such brilliance, innovation, and ambition." He touched the wand to my skin.
Compared to the cruciatus curse, the pain from receiving the dark mark paled. It felt as though somebody had held a lit match to my skin-hot, then cold. I wondered if the flesh would blister, but knew that when it came to magic, there were precautions taken to avoid situations like that. I re-covered my shoulder and stood up.
"Oh, hold on, we're not done." Mother stopped me with a firm hand on the shoulder that was just marked. I winced but said nothing.
"What do you mean?" I sat back down.
"You can't go looking like that." She responded. She waved her wand, and my white-blonde hair-the only physical trait I had left of my mother was replaced with a deep shade of auburn. I glanced at the mirror hanging over the fireplace and checked my reflection. Not only had she changed my hair, but my eye color as well. The hazel eyes that I had looked into for the past fifteen years had turned a deep shade of brown.
My insides screamed at the injustice. Would my choice always be taken from me? Would I ever be able to be whoever it was I was meant to be? Or would I be forced to live this life that I never wanted?
"Why?" I blinked, trying to stop the tears. "Why would you do this?
"Nobody can know who you are." She warned. "You're Cora Lynch on the roster. That is what you will answer to. You will be sorted and then await your orders."
"I nodded, but inside I died a little bit. I had heard the torture victims of Bellatrix Lestrange. She made it an art-her weapons of choice hung in a display case for all to see. It was her silent warning not to cross her. Had I ever experienced the weapons? No. She was merciful in that way. Instead she used magical methods. There was no way to prove the use of the cruciatus curse after all. Well unless somebody was to cast on her wand and see the last spells used.
"You're going to be late. Go get ready."
I climbed the stairs, and entered my room-a safe haven. Instead of straight black, Bellatrix had allowed me to paint the walls in shades of gray. I made my own paint out of herbs and flowers and painted a string of daisies along the trim to brighten up the room. When I got into the room and shut the door, I sank down against it and let the tears fall. In my ten years of captivity, I had learned to cry silently-let the tears fall but never let them hear.
"Aww, how pathetic." Draco sneered. In my urge to get to my safe place, i didn't notice him sitting on my bed. "You look like a Weasley now."
"Get out." I commanded. I looked over at the clock. The conversation that transpired this morning took over an hour, which meant that I had forty-five minutes to look like I pulled myself together. "I need to get ready." I regained my composure, stood up, opened the door, and showed him the way out.
"I'll see you on the train." He smirked, strode across the room, and then stopped at the doorway. "By the way, the red doesn't look that bad."
I shut the door in his face. The last thing I needed was fake kindness from a stuck up, hateful, in-his-own-world, platinum, death-eater-in-training. I turned on the lights in the room and then looked in the mirror. He was right. The red didn't look bad, but it wasn't me. To make the red look more natural, mummy-dearest had added freckles. He was right, I looked like a Weasley. It wasn't a bad thing, but it just wasn't me.
Making sure that the coast was clear, I lifted the corner of the rug in my room and pulled up the floorboard where I hid muggle artifiacts-among them muggle cosmetics, hair supplies, and collectibles. Learning to magic a person's appearance is fun and all, but to me, there was something artistic about learning how to apply makeup the muggle way. Because in making mistakes, that is how a person learned.
I tucked the artifacts beneath my plain black robes in the trunk, and then ran a brush through my hair. Then, I bent over, letting the long locks fall in my face, grabbed them and twisted them into a bun. After my hair, I changed into the set of robes one of the elves must have laid out and slipped on a pair of trainers. Sighing, I stooped down to lift my trunk and carry it down the stairs.
"Why do you have to make things so difficult?" Draco snuck up behind me and I nearly dropped my trunk. "Put it down." Normally I would have ignored him, but the weight was starting to hurt my back. I squatted down and put the trunk on the floor. "Let the house elves do it."
I sighed in submission and hoped that I wouldn't have seen him every day. If the people I encountered every day had been or were currently in Slytherin, I wanted nothing to do with the house. We pulled the trunks on acart towards the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder. Draco went first.
"Diagon Alley!" He exclaimed, and in a burst of emerald fire he disappeared. I repeated him and found myself in the fireplace of an old shop. Draco leaned against the wall and laughed as I tumbled from the hearth. I stood up and dusted off my robes.
"You know you could've helped me up, you prat." I pushed my cart out of the fireplace and followed him. King's cross was not a far walk but with his long strides I had to jog to keep up. He stopped at a pillar and looked at it. I looked at the clock on the wall and groaned. "You gonna tell me how to get in?"
Draco smirked and using all his might, pushed me forward. I braced myself for a catastraphic collision but was pleasantly surprised to find myself standing infront of a scarlet train. On the front, "Hogwarts Express" gleamed. I looked around and Draco had disappeared in the mass of people. I stood alone, wondering what to do. Luckily a train attendant approached me.
"Are you lost, love?" The elderly witch reached out to me.
"Yeah." I answered. "I'm a transfer and this is new to me."
"Oh, don't worry dear. I'll get you sorted out. Go find a seat, I've got your trunk."
I climbed into the rapidly filling train and found a compartment with one other person. She read her magazine upside down and wore pink glasses with wings protruding on the side. It took her a few minutes to notice me. When she lowered her magazine, I noticed her white-blonde hair and vacant expression.
"Oh, hello. Have you been here long?" She asked.
"A few minutes. You don't mind do you?"
"Not at all. People tend to avoid me."
"I wish people did." I muttered. If she heard me, she didn't let on. We didn't talk much, but for once silence felt comfortable for me. I pressed my face against the window enjoying the cold to the rapidly heating compartment. A few hours later, the train came to a stop.
"You must be new." The blonde girl said. "I"m Luna by the way." She extended her hand as she helped me step down onto the platform. "Follow me."
In the distance I saw an enormous man flagging down the first years as they crowded into rowboats. Rain poured down and I felt sorry for them. Luna pointed a fair distance in front of me and I could make out the silhouettes of carriages. As we neared them, I noticed what they were pulled by. I stood back and gasped.
"You see them." Luna observed.
"Why wouldn't I?" I wondered. She didn't answer though.
The large skeletal horses towered over the carriages. Their eyes were gaunt and reminded me of mummy dearest. Their ribs protruded from their thin, taught flesh. I gingerly reached out to touch the creature and gasped at the scaly texture. The carriage lurched forward and I jolted back into my seat as the creatures took off into a gallop towards the castle.
The frigid combination of wind and rain had me shivering by the time I entered the castle. A tall, stern woman greeted me.
"Ah yes. Our transfer. You will join the first years over here." She nudged me towards a group of nervous looking eleven-year olds. I wated as she went through the list of new students until she reached the bottom of the scroll.
"Kaysie Lee."
I blinked and moved forward dreading the repercussions of my revealed identity and marveling in the rebellion. I perched on the stool as she placed a worn leather hat on my head. The moment it touched my head it spoke.
"Ah. This is an interesting case." It almost purred. "You aren't who they say you are. They expect shrewdness. You want to be kind. You're smart too. Top marks at Durmstrang, but they wouldn't notice. You'd be a good fit for Ravenclaw. But yet, there's a rebellious spirit in you. But what's this? A rebellion FOR the system? That's something I haven't seen. There's this ambition to be seen as the person you were meant to be. Oh, I know where to put you."
Every word caused my heart to race. My palms broke out in sweat as I waited for the decision. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff? Hell I'd even take Gryffindor, though my lack of recklessness probably meant I wouldn't fit in.
"I know what you're thinking. You don't find in anywhere. I've got the perfect house for you."
The hat paused for dramatic effect and the whole room stayed silent.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"