Chapter 2:
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter story, or characters. I only own Erica, and her family, along with this plot. Everything else is created, and owned by JK Rowling.
Thanks to: My lovely beta BananaManiaBubblegum, who helped me with the mistakes and fleshing out of my own OCs. She was really able to reign my excitement in and help me to focus. Thank you BMB! My boyfriend, who encouraged me to slow down and take breaks so I wouldnt get tired of the story, and who loves Erica and Angel almost as much as I do. Thanks babe! And lastly, to one of my best friends: Rorilyn. Shes my first fan, and got me excited to start, continue and finish each chapter of HoD. Shes my cheerleader to help keep me going. Without any of you, this story wouldnt have picked up and closer to being finished. You guys are my support group and I love you all!
Warnings: This story does have mentions of adult language, adult bedroom situations, alcohol abuse, child abuse, and more. You have been warned.
Last Read:
"I…I came to see you Mum, and father." Erica replied, voice wobbling with the threat of tears. Her mother looked her over once more before stepping aside to let the girl in. She smiled to the woman who continued to glare at her, closing the door and leading her into the sitting room. It was a small room, with only a few bookshelves, rugs, and a couch, along with some china cabinets that held picture frames and glass figurines. "Something happened… at school… Im sorry but…" Erica stopped, if she said the words now, she would be accepting what happened. Her eyes closed, and she took a few deep breathes, trying to ignore the tears now running down her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Angel died. Earlier today…" Erica finally said, breaking down into fits of sobs, hands covering her wet face.
"Good riddance." A voice said behind her, and Erica flinched, turning to look into the dull honey eyes of her father.
Unknown to Erica, the head of the household had entered the room. He was a tall man, with a large frame and a round beer belly. His hair was dark, and his eyes dulled from the honey colour they used to be. A deep shadow of a beard covered his jaw, and alcohol tainted his breath. He wore a simple white shirt, which was too small and exposed his stomach, suspenders connected to his pants to keep them up. A beer bottle hung from his hand, and he gave a belch. "So that's why you're here?" he asked, moving to sit next to his wife.
Erica sat up straight, eyes hardening as she stared through tears at the man and woman who gave her and her sister life. "I thought… I thought you would care…" Erica said, her voice watery from the tears that continued to fall. Her father gave a snort, while her mother looked down at the boy who was curiously observing her. "So you don't care that your daughter is dead?" she asked, her anger rising.
"Not in particular." Her father responded, raising the beer bottle to his mouth. Suddenly there was a wail that resonated through the house and Erica's head whipped around to stare up at the ceiling. Another baby? Her mother rose, bustling out the room in a flurry of dress skirts and dirty blonde hair. Within a few minutes, the wails stopped, and Erica turned her attention to her father and her… brother.
"So how old are you?" she asked the boy who glanced to their dad before holding up his hand, indicating five years. "My, you're a big boy then." Erica told him, smiling to him, causing the little boy to smile back. "Does mum still make those little fruit tarts with the almonds on top?" she asked him, moving closer, watching as her brother nodded rapidly, showing his love for the pastries.
"I think it's time to get ready for dinner." Her mother said, appearing in the doorway to the living room and staring at the boy. He got up and trotted from the room, jumping up the stairs to get washed for dinner. Her mother turned dark eyes to her, lips pressed together in a thin line. "You too." She finally snapped, and Erica stood out of reflex, moving to pass the woman and head up the stairs.
That night was… interesting. Her parents glared at her the entire time, and her brother stared at her with curiosity. The atmosphere was tense and hostile, and Erica barely spoke a word other than the prayer when her father forced her to. Now it was nighttime and she lay in her old bed, staring up at the ceiling. It felt weird being back in her old room, in her old house… why did they invite her to stay? Were they sad that Angel was gone? Did they regret what they did? Suddenly, memories roared to life in her eyes, and she closed to her eyes to watch them.
There was a knock on the door, and Erica ran down the stairs, calling through the house that she would get it. She opened it, staring up at the old woman, wondering what hardships she had faced to look that pinched. The woman stared down at her, bifocals glistening from the rays of the sun. "Good evening Miss Gref, are your parents home?" she asked, and Erica looked her over suspiciously. She was dressed strictly enough, in black dress and robes – which her mother wore some times to keep the winter bite from herself – that ran all the way up to her neck. Her sleeves were long and tight, and the dress fell in folds down to the ground, sweeping up dirt and dust. Erica nodded in approval.
"Moooom." She called, and was immediately pulled away from the door and hidden behind her mother's skirts. The woman hissed at the stranger, who pressed her lips together tightly as she eyed the mother back.
"I am Professor McGonagall. May I come in? I believe there is a chat that needs to be had." Professor McGonagall greeted tersely, and stepped into the room before her mother could slam the door. The woman, this McGonagall, looked odd in her old country home. She looked too prepped and manicured, but she easily made herself right at home in her little living room. "I guess I will get right to it. Your daughters, Mrs Gref, are witches." she began, only to stop because of her mother's scream of outrage.
"How dare you!?" she screamed, face red. "I will not have some stranger come into my home and accuse my daughters of… of… witchcraft!" she continued, jabbing her finger at the woman.
McGonagall blinked, slowly, before adjusting her glasses. "I assure you, madam, that your girls are witches." At this point in time, Angel had crept downstairs to stand with her sister. It was startling, to see the girls side by side. They were the same height, had the same freckles of young age across their noses, and the same honey gold eyes. They opted for the same haircut too; straight bangs over their eyebrows along with long hair that went all the way down to their waists and was held up in a braid.
Their hands were grasped together; fingers laced and magic humming. The stranger was staring at them, and they back at her. Erica and Angel knew it was true, they could see the magic coursing through the Professor, and she could see theirs. "You must be Erica and Angel." She nodded to each respectively, causing the girls to share a small smile at finally being guessed correctly. "I'm Professor McGonagall… I'm here to tell you that you have been accepted to a special school. A school for people like you and me, people with magic." The girls glanced at one another before turning their attention toward their mother.
Her face was sad, but became angry as the girls looked to her. "If you chose to go to this school, you can never come home." She whispered, and the girls stared with wide eyes at the woman who birthed them. Wasn't she supposed to love them no matter what?
McGonagall frowned deeply as their mother smiled smugly. Their guest stood quickly, harrumphing before exiting their home. But that wasn't the last that the girls saw of the woman.
It was summer time now, and the girls were playing outside when an owl came for them, settling onto Angel's outstretched arm. The girl always did love animals, talking to them quietly and sometimes playing with the lone coyote or two that wondered around in the deserted country side. Erica didn't understand, but she didn't really care. It made her twin happy.
Angel took the note from the owl's leg, giving her sister a quizzical look before passing it to her to read so that she could play with the owl. Despite being a regal looking thing, the owl succumbed to Angel's fingers and began to coo like a baby as it was scratched and petting, and even cuddled. Erica believed her sister to be an odd one.
Shaking her head, Erica began to quietly read aloud, since she also believed this note to be magical, and not for Mother and Father to know about. "Dear Angel and Eric Gref. It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Erica stopped, looking up to grin at her sister, who was giving the same grin back. "Incased in this letter are a list of things you will need for this coming term, and rules that you shall need to follow. Awaiting your arrival, Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."
Erica shuffled the papers, coming across the list that the letter spoke about. "Angel! We get wands!" Erica gasped, and there was a flurry of wings before Angel was at her sister's side, staring at the list too. They began to jump up and down together, squealing before Angel shoved the papers into a ball and the two raced into the house, then up the stairs.
The next morning Erica was woken early by her mother and the young female easily slipped into the old routine from her childhood. They cooked dinner for the household, and then went out back to the garden to work on the plants and vegetables. But her father had other ideas, pulling Erica from the care of her mother to work in the house. "Make yourself useful." He had said, barking orders at her to fix the house up with her magic. He may not have condoned magic, but he knew the advantages. When Erica had protested that she couldn't, that it was against the law until she was of age, her father backhanded her, sending her to the floor. School had made her weak, the tears flowing from that single hit.
She remembered a time when she could go through a full beating without crying. And now, she was sobbing from that one slap. The house was fixed that day, the leaking roof repaired, the peeling wallpaper redone. She had lubricated the fence, doors, and windows, so they no longer squeaked when opened or closed. Wooden floorboards were pulled up and transfigured before being placed back down. All in all, by the time dinner was ready, she opted out to go upstairs to sleep early.
Months passed before she finally began to wonder what her world was doing. Were they slowly picking up the pieces like she was? She wondered how her beloved school was fairing, wondered about her classmates and friends. No one had sent her letters, and she quickly remembered that a lot of her friends from Slytherin had turned against the Light, fighting under the Dark Lord. Of course they wouldn't have been able to contact her, not if they were in Azkaban, or under house arrest.
Her brother enjoyed her company, and Erica found herself loving the little boy. She put him to sleep with stories of her time at Hogwarts. She told him about the magic, and about the creatures and classes. He liked the stories of the Golden Trio best, and she found herself a bit bitter about it. Of course he would love those stories. But then again, she supposed that it had been the Golden Trio who had finally defeated the Dark Lord.
Their story time was kept secret, but she had a feeling that Mother knew about them. She would come out the boy's room some times to see her mother walking down the stairs, or into her own bedroom. It didn't really matter to Erica as long as her Father didn't know. He would beat them all.
Though one fateful day, Erica would eat her words. She was telling a story to her little brother about a horrible woman by the name of Umbridge when her father barged in, barking an order for them to go to sleep. "You're poisoning his mind with the magic shit." He snarled, grabbing Erica by the hair and jerking her up to her feet. Her first instinct was to use the Confundus spell, but knew that magic against muggles was against the law, so she could only fight against him as he jerked her about, screaming at her for being filthy and tainted.
Her little brother had begun crying by the time her father started to hit her, and the next thing she knew, her brother was standing and screaming. She felt it before her father knew what would happen, causing both her and her mother to scream "Hunter, no!" but it was too late. His latent accidental magic sprung forward to knock their father away from his sister and into the wall.
Erica slowly turned to face her mother who was consoling a crying Hunter.
A/N: Well how was that?! I bet you guys didnt see THAT coming! Leave me a reveiw, tell me what you think of everything. Any idea whats going to happen next?
