Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or names of places. They all belong to J.K. Rowling!

Harry Potter and the Slammerkin's Dress

On a dark, wet night down Knockturn Alley, a girl named Geneviéve Cinders was hurriedly pushing down her bright orange slammerkin dress, while in between her thighs ran down a trail of semen. She silently watched the Welshmen, who had done a surprisingly arousing job of fucking her, quickly rounded the corner. She rapidly grabbed her five shillings and ran back to her disgustingly old room up in Mouse's Tower. Molly was there, but of course she had fallen limply on to the thin mattress; she had just come off of her all-night shift and she looked to have gotten about 30 shillings, five spent on two bottles of gin.

Geneviéve packed all of her belongings which included eight brightly colored slammerkins, five bodices, three petticoats, sleeves, stomachers, and Moll had gratefully enough put a sixpence inside her box of trinkets. She thought back to how one month ago she was just a mere prostitute, but now, she's just a witch. Three weeks ago, she had received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry acknowledging that she was indeed a witch and that she had been accepted there. When she had found out this piece of news, she unexpectedly went to her old home; the home where her own mother had kicked her out of, one year ago. There, her mother had explained that her father, Cob Cinders, had been a wizard and died from prosecution.

Geneviéve had been told when she was three that her father had died of gaol fever in prison. This new knowledge was drastically what she'd somehow knew deep down in her heart, that her father couldn't have died by treason to the king. Her heart leapt with joy, when later that night she reread the letter and realized that she was going to live in a better place than the streets. Of course, this meant leaving Moll, but she'd understand, she'd have to.

Moll did indeed understand only by a lot of undertake of alcohol. Moll, couldn't give a damn that she was a witch, just if she got her gin and if Geneviéve was getting money out of this, because whoring was the best job around for money. Geneviéve, of course, wasn't getting any profit, only a better education into the world of magic.

She finished packing and quickly made sure she had everything before she'd be leaving the home where she had felt most comforted and safe. Moll didn't even stir when she bent down and hugged her goodbye. Geneviéve walked to the door and took one last look at the shabbiness of the room, which indeed had become her home these past two years. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered her time here. It hadn't been easy, but her and Moll had gotten through. And here she was leaving her best friend in the world! What could she have been thinking? She dropped her bag and ran to sit by her friend at the edge of the straw mattress.

Moll woke up from this and smiled sweetly down at Geneviéve's sullen body.

"It'll be okay, love. You'll do great. I'll be here for you when your school year's over. Hush now. Remember, write to me, for what can a poor girl like me do without some reading to do?" Moll gently said.

Geneviéve looked up into her friend's gray eyes and quickly wiped her tears away. She gathered her courage and again went to the door and took up her bag. "Goodbye, Moll." She went out through the door and quietly closed it behind her.

She heard inside Moll drop tiredly onto the thin mattress and quietly say, "Good luck and have fun."

Before Geneviéve walked down the badly built staircase she whispered a sad goodbye, "Bye, my dear friend Moll, I hope you make it through the winter. I hope to see you next summer."

She hurriedly rushed down the forbidding stairs in excitement, sadness, and fear. For no longer could she depend on Moll in the wizarding world...

(P.S.-Please tell me what you think of the first chapter!!)