Author's Note: Er...yeah…read and review. And, please, try to keep any criticism constructive. If you're gonna say "It sucks" give me a reason why so I can make the story better. Not much else to say. Other than the ending for this chapter was really hard to get right. I still don't like it. Stupid ending.
Warnings: AU; original character; child abuse
Disclaimer: I own Samantha. Everything else belongs to J. K. Rowling.
Key: Italics- emphasized or the title of a book/magazine/newspaper
/……/- thought
The sunlight stretched lazily through the crack beneath the door, passing beneath the occupied bed, which it kindly left in shadow. It caressed the rotten planks of woods along the floor and far wall of the room, warming the small hand that rested just inside its domain. A finger twitched and something beneath the thin blanket in the corner shifted, rolling into the sunlight in a meager attempt to warm itself. "Mm…? It's morning…" came a small, tired voice.
A boy sat up then, rubbing the last bits of sleep from his vivid green eyes. A shock of messy black hair was strewn over his head, sticking out every which way – there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to which way it went. He smoothed it down once or twice, giving up when it merely sprang back into its previous position. A soft yawn escaped his lips, and he stood carefully in the tiny chamber, not wanting to wake the other occupant just yet.
A curtain divided the already meager room into two smaller sections. The boy slipped behind it and spent a few moments pulling on the over-sized rags he was forced to call clothes – why couldn't they at least try to shrink Dudley's clothes before giving them to him? He sighed and stepped out from behind the curtain, tightening the belt that held up the tent that his cousin had once worn as pants around his waist.
Harry turned his gaze to the person sleeping in the bed. A length of vivid red hair – though it seemed brown in the dim, almost non-existent light – was spread haphazardly across the thin mattress. A pale hand lay over a face, hiding eyes that matched his from view. Harry could see the pale red lips twitch in a smile as he watched. "Sammy, it's time to get up. Someone will be by to give us our chores soon."
The girl on the mattress sighed and sat up – she'd worn her clothes to bed – a too big green blouse and blue skirt. Aunt Petunia wouldn't notice if they were a bit wrinkled as long as the chores all got done. "I know, Harry. I know. I just wanna sleep though…"
"I know you do, but Uncle Vernon wi—"
"Will get mad. I know. And then he'll hurt us and we'll end up locked back up in here for weeks. Honestly…I don't see how he could blame you for the glass disappearing like that. Bloody snake didn't even go after Dudley…the twit just fell into the display."
Harry snickered to himself, remembering the look on his fat cousin's face when the glass in the snake's display case had suddenly vanished and he'd fallen in. It had been funny. At least, it had been until they got home. Harry was still sore from the beating they'd received as punishment they'd received for that – he still couldn't work out how Uncle Vernon had blamed Samantha for it though…she hadn't even been in the reptile house. "I know, Sammy. Bu—"
The door to the room beneath the stairs swung open quite suddenly. The two children who were huddled in the tiny space turned pale, nervous faces to their massive Uncle. He was watching them with hateful, beady eyes, as though daring them to do something to make him angry. Harry thought he simply wanted an excuse to beat them – he certainly seemed to hate them enough. "Go make breakfast – and don't screw it up!"
The pair of children nodded, and Harry led his sister carefully past their seething Uncle, doing his very best to seem small and unthreatening. He was relieved to see his sister wasn't in a belligerent mood this morning – usually she would talk back to their Uncle, unable to stand the way he treated them with the submissive silence her brother could.
The twins walked into the kitchen and found their Aunt Petunia had already started cooking. Harry didn't think this was a very good thing at all – his Aunt was a horrible cook and tended to burn or ruin whatever she was trying to make. He took over cooking the bacon from her, and Samantha went to the fridge to get some eggs to scramble. Their aunt watched them suspiciously for several moments before deciding they weren't up to any sort of mischief and walked out of the room.
They worked in silence for a while, not wanting to risk angering their uncle and being thrown back into the room beneath the stairs again. They'd spent what felt like months there already, though it had really only been a few weeks. Things seemed to be going well. They served breakfast to their aunt, uncle, and cousin, and even managed to wolf down their own before Dudley realized they had a fair share of food this morning. It was around the time that the mail came that things began to go strangely.
Dudley had gone to get the mail this morning – he was waiting for the first copy of a magazine he had subscribed too. Harry and Samantha were still in the kitchen washing the dishes from breakfast and the night before. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until they heard an odd sort of strangled shout from Uncle Vernon. He sounded excited about something – that was never good for the twins. They shared a nervous look before turning back to the dishes, hoping that just this once whatever had made Uncle Vernon happy didn't involve them at all.
"Brats! Get in here!"
It seemed as though that was too much to hope for. They dried their hands quickly and walked into the living room, timid expressions on their faces. Harry winced inwardly when he spotted the strange look on Uncle Vernon's face. It looked as though he couldn't decide whether to be enraged or overjoyed – Harry wasn't sure which would be better.
Uncle Vernon looked from one child to the other – he had the same look on his face that he always got when he was trying to decide which one to hurt first. Harry couldn't stop the nervous trembling that began in his knees. He could always run, but he couldn't leave Samantha behind – she was slower than him. He could try fighting back, but then Uncle Vernon would just turn on Samantha sooner and beat her longer. It was best if he just stood there and took whatever punishment his uncle had in mind.
He dared a glance at Samantha and wondered how she could stand there looking so relaxed – she didn't seem any more frightened than she would have been if she'd been standing in line for tickets too a movie. /What's she looking at? / he thought to himself as he noticed her green eyes were focused on something other than Uncle Vernon's angry face. He followed her gaze and noticed a piece of paper clutched in his uncle's beefy hand.
It was a thick, heavy paper. It didn't look at all like the normal school paper that Dudley brought home, or the paper that the newspaper was made of. Harry could see a bit of green ink on it, and what looked like Uncle Vernon's name printed in a neat, spidery cursive. If there was anything else written on the letter it was hidden by his Uncle's clenched fist.
"Who… Who have you two been talking to?!" cried Uncle Vernon. Harry watched in a sort of horrified fascination as his Uncle's face turned a frightening shade of enraged purple and his beady eyes narrowed to tiny, terrible slits. He shook his head numbly in answer, but Uncle Vernon wasn't paying any attention. He'd looked at Samantha who was now speaking in a quiet, calm tone – Harry would never understand how she could stay so calm in the face of something as horrible as Uncle Vernon.
"We haven't been talking to anyone," Samantha was saying. "After all, how could we? You decided to lock us up for a punishment, and we haven't been allowed out for ages. Who would we have been able to talk to in the cu—"
Uncle Vernon slapped her across her face, suddenly looking less enraged than before. It seemed he just wanted to take his anger out on them after all. Samantha cried out briefly and glanced at Harry with a nervous look. He looked back with an expression to match hers and mouthed something reassuring to her. "Don't you talk back to me you little brat! I know you've been talking to someone! How else would I have got this letter?!"
He thrust the letter accusingly at Samantha. She merely looked at it and then turned her gaze questioningly back to him, only taking it from him when he nodded just slightly. She held it up to read it, taking a step closer to Harry so he could see as well.
~
Mr. Vernon Dursley;
It has come to the attention of quite a few respected citizens of the wizarding community that the young Potter twins are in ill treatment while in your care. We only regret having not checked up on them sooner. Even as I write this steps are being taken to have them removed permanently from your home and to have criminal charges brought against you and your family. However…
We do not wish to put Samantha and Harry through a trial in which they have to face someone as unworthy as you. If you agree to give up all custody rights to the twins we will not have the charges brought against you. Keep in mind that if you do not agree to these terms you will be tried in a wizarding court and sent to the wizards' prison, Azkaban, if you are found guilty.
You have one day to come to a decision. We will send a ministry official along with a selected guardian for the twins to your house tomorrow at noon to hear your decision. Should you not agree to give up the twins you will be arrested along with your wife and son. If you hand over the twins you will merely have to sign some documents and refrain from any further contact with them.
Give the attached letter to the twins and keep in mind that you are under surveillance. If we feel the twins are in danger or find that they have not received the attached letter there will be consequences.
Signed;
Minerva McGonagall
~
Samantha glanced at her uncle and arched a brow curiously, as though silently asking for the attached letter that had been mentioned in the one she'd just read. She didn't see any reason to fear him at the moment. If what was said in the letter was true then he wouldn't dare to hurt her, wouldn't he? Though she didn't really understand all that rubbish about wizards…there was no such thing, right?
Uncle Vernon sneered at her and shoved another letter into her hands. This one was written in dark blue ink with an odd sort of scrawl that was pleasing to look at and quite easy to read. It was wrinkled and creased – Uncle Vernon had obviously read it before handing it over.
~
Samantha and Harry Potter,
I do hope the two of you are doing well at the time of reading this. First, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for not checking on the two of you sooner. Second, I would like to introduce myself. I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster at a very prestigious school. I would tell you what the school teaches, but I feel that is a topic best left to the guardian that will be arriving tomorrow to take the two of you away from your relatives. Instead, I will simply say that I hope to see you both ready to learn at the start of the school year.
There are a good many things I would like to say in this letter, most of them would be better left to discussion in person. I can tell you that your parents did not die in a car crash as your aunt and uncle would like you to believe. I can also tell you that it will be an old friend of your parents' that will be applying to become your new guardian. Don't worry if it doesn't go through, there are several other fine people who would be glad to take you in, and they are all the kindest people you could meet.
Now, only the two of you will be able to read this paragraph. I know you won't believe me, but just trust me on this. You'll believe me later, I'm sure. I want to tell you that I will be coming along with the ministry official and your guardian applicant tomorrow to make sure that everything goes smoothly. After that I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted with your new guardian and meet you again at dinner to talk with you about the things I've left out of this letter. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
~
Samantha tilted her head to one side and then the other in what seemed to be a thoughtful look. It all sounded like rubbish to her. Just a sick joke perpetrated by her uncle or cousin to make them think they had a chance at a better life. Her lips twisted in a disgusted sneer and she pushed the letter into her brother's hands, turning an angry gaze on her uncle. "Nice joke. Now are you going to give us our chores or what?"
"Chores? Hah! You two are packing! I'm not keeping a pair of useless freaks around my house if I don't have to," declared Uncle Vernon. Samantha stared at him in shock, turning to look at Harry with a perplexed expression.
Harry didn't really know what to make of the situation at all. The letters seemed genuine to him – none of his relatives had handwriting as neat as the writing in the letters, and he was sure they weren't really smart enough to think up such a complex hoax. Still… He simply shrugged at Samantha, feeling just as confused as she surely was.
Twin pairs of nervous green eyes turned back to Uncle Vernon, one set hidden behind a mask of calm, the other plain in a face that betrayed every emotion felt. "Do you want us to get packed right now?" asked Samantha. Harry thought he heard a quiver in her voice, but it was hard to tell.
"Of course I want you to start now! You think I actually want you two to stay here? It's a wonder anyone would want the likes of you." He sneered at the pair of them and raised a hand as though to strike them when they lingered for too long. Harry grabbed Samantha's arm and dragged her out of reach of their uncle before leading her insistently down the hall.
The twins stepped into the tiny closet they were forced to call a room and simply gazed at the meager possessions they'd been told to pack. They each had a few changes of clothes – all of which were big for either one of them. Samantha had a wooden flute that Dudley had broken years ago. It wasn't very good – she'd only been able to hold it together with leftover bits of duct tape. Harry had a collection of shiny rocks that he'd gathered when he was younger. He only kept them for sentimental value now. Between them they had a tattered backpack that was useless for holding anything, though Samantha would sometimes manage to tie the gaping hole in the bottom shut – that usually held for an hour or so…
"Sammy?" Harry didn't wait for a response from his sister before continuing. "Do you think that those letters were real? I mean, not that bit about wizards…that…that was weird…" he trailed off. Shaking his head, he gathered up his small collection of rocks and stuffed them into the pockets of the few pairs of pants he had. Behind him, Samantha was busying herself trying to tie the bottom of the backpack shut.
"Well…" she started. She didn't think the letters held any truth to them at all. If they'd been real, then why would whoever had written them have started talking about wizards and all that rubbish? There was no such thing as wizards. Still…she didn't want to simply crush the meager hope that she sensed her brother was clinging to. Unable to think of anything to say, she let the awkward silence hang in the air.
Harry gave a short bitter laugh at his sister's silence. He should have expected disbelief from her. From himself as well… He couldn't understand exactly why he still thought the letters were real. It just didn't make sense to him for it to all be fake. "Yeah…I guess it was silly. Uncle Vernon's probably just looking for an excuse to get rid of us. But, then, why would he go to all this trouble? Wouldn't it make more sense to just throw us out?"
Samantha sighed in exasperation, setting aside the half-heartedly mended backpack. "Harry, what sort of official would write a letter and then start babbling on about wizards and wizards' prisons? There's no one coming to get us. It's probably some trick of Dudley's."
"Samantha, that makes no sense! You know Dudley's about as smart as a slug," countered Harry.
"Well maybe he got one of his stupid friends to help think of a trick to play on us. Though it is awfully creative of them…"
"There! See? Even you're starting to think it might be real!"
"Right. Or it could be some loon who wrote the letters," said Samantha. She nodded slightly to herself, thinking this idea made the most sense of all. Even as she argued that the letters were fake, though, she was folding her clothes and placing them carefully into the backpack along with Harry's – the poor sack was beginning to strain at the seams it had left.
"Right, a loon. A loon who knows our names and that Uncle Vernon mistreats us. Do you know how farfetched that sounds? That makes even less sense than it all being a trick of Dudley's."
"Well… Oh, come on, Harry! You can't honestly think those letters are real!"
"I don't see how you can think they're fake!"
Fiery green eyes glared at contrasting icy green ones, each daring the other to look away. Harry looked away first, not wanting to fight with his sister for very long. He rolled his eyes when Samantha smirked triumphantly, her cool green eyes softening as she sat down on the dirty mattress they called a bed. "Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to yell at you."
"I know, Sammy… Let's just wait and see what happens tomorrow, okay?" The raven-haired boy glanced down at his sister, sighing in relief when she nodded her agreement.
The rest of the day went by in an awkward tension. Samantha and Harry found they had to tread even more lightly than usual around their relatives – just about anything they did was enough to anger Uncle Vernon. By the end of the day both twins had a scattering of new bruises spread here and there. They'd had to withstand a tirade from their enraged aunt when they'd let the roast cook for a few minutes too long – it wasn't burnt, but it wasn't as rare as she'd wanted it.
Samantha left the mattress for Harry to sleep on that night – they always switched turns sleeping on it. She took the backpack for herself, using the tattered, but soft clothes-stuffed bag as a sort of pillow. Neither of them fell asleep for a long time after going to bed, and, when they finally drifted into a light sleep, it was fitful and wrought with dreams that they couldn't remember upon waking.
"Brats!!" cried Uncle Vernon. It was the next day now, and Harry and Samantha had been sitting in their tiny, dark room for what felt like hours, waiting to be allowed out. They weren't sure what time it was, but it must have been late in the day. They'd heard Dudley stomping about the house complaining quite loudly about not having the right kind of cereal earlier. Harry had thought he'd heard the doorbell ring, but he couldn't be sure seeing as Dudley had been jumping up and down on the stairs at the moment. Harry had been struck by the awful thought that the stairs would cave in and his cousin would fall on him and his sister and crush them both to death.
"Brats, get out here!" The door to the cupboard swung open, and the twins let out cries of surprise when a strange old man looked down at them instead of their uncle. He had long, silver colored hair and a matching beard and mustache. He was wearing a set of dark blue robes with a black and silver trim, and Harry thought he saw a stick poking out of one of the man's pockets…
Uncle Vernon started to yell again, but the old man look over his shoulder and frowned in anger, and Uncle Vernon cut short with an odd squeaking sound. The man looked back at them and smiled down at them, his eyes twinkling from behind a pair of half-moon glasses.
"It's good to see you both," he said in a kindly voice. He stepped back and gestured for them to exit the cupboard. Samantha and Harry missed the frown that appeared on his face when he got a good look at the conditions of the room. Spiders scrambled out of the light, and a layer of dust and grime seemed to cover everything. He shook his head sadly and turned back to them, smiling warmly again. "I trust you got my letter? Oh! I'm Albus Dumbledore, by the way."
"Right…and…you're wearing robes… Aren't those a little…girly?" asked Samantha. She winced and scowled at her brother when he elbowed her in the ribs. "What? They are!" Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead, eyeing the old man…Dumbledore with a nervous gaze. Maybe he wouldn't take offense…
The old wizard simply chuckled and shook his head in amusement, that warm smile never leaving his face as he looked down at the twins. "No, no. The men in the place I come from all dress like this. You'll see soon enough." Samantha looked as though she wanted to say something else, but closed her mouth again as Dumbledore led them into the living room.
The young girl scowled at the two strangers sitting on the couch, ignoring her Uncle's harshly whispered demands to be polite. They too were dressed in robes. There was a balding, red-haired man sitting on the couch while he pretended to listen to another man speaking. Samantha though he seemed more interested in the lamp next to him than whatever the other man had to say. He fidgeted with the hem of his long black robes – the trim was done in gold and there was a patch on the chest that read "M. o. M."
Samantha rolled her eyes and turned to look at the man who was trying to speak with the balding fellow. He had long black hair that was pulled back in a ponytail at the moment, and his eyes were a rather stunning shade of blue. Samantha thought he looked as though he'd just gotten over some illness – he looked a bit thin and pale. She watched him quietly for a moment, tensing unconsciously when he caught her looking at him and smiled warmly.
Dumbledore was speaking to her uncle now, though she wasn't really paying attention to what was being said at the moment. All that mattered to her was that it was real. She was leaving this place with her brother, and they were going to go live with on of these people. Probably the blue-eyed man. The other fellow looked more like an official than a guardian. She glanced at Harry, relaxing a bit when she noticed his unbelievably bright smile. She always found it hard to stay in a bad mood when he was happy.
"Alright then. The papers have been signed, you can take the twins with you now, Sirius," the balding man was saying. "Now, the board will let them stay with you to the start of the school year, and then they'll make a decision on whether to place them with you or not."
"I know, Arthur. I know," growled the blue-eyed man. "I got to keep and eye on Malfoy too, right? He'll be wanting to stick them with a Death Eater or something."
"Quite right," the balding man said, his gaze falling on the twins again. He gave a said shake of his head and pulled out a long, thin stick. "Here, you two stand still and I'll fix those clothes for you, alright?"
Harry and Samantha merely stared at him as though he'd asked if the sky was orange today. Stand still and he'd fix their clothes? With a stick? The red-haired man sighed and turned to Harry. He waved his wand a murmured something under his breath. There was a soft rustle of clothing, and Harry thought he felt a strange, cool breeze brush by him. He glanced down at himself and gasped in surprise – the clothes that had been hanging off him earlier now seemed to fit perfectly! He heard the balding man speak again and heard the same rustle of clothes followed by a surprised gasp from Samantha. He looked at her curiously and was only a little surprised to see that her clothes fit her perfectly as well – though the skirt did seem a bit long for the middle of summer… It was ankle length now.
"Well…I guess the bit about wizards wasn't just rubbish…" murmured Harry in a superior tone. Samantha blinked and glared at him briefly, though it was clear her heart wasn't in it. She was too interested in plucking at her "new" clothes.
Harry looked at the blue-eyed man, he thought he remembered hearing the balding fellow call him Sirius. "Does this me—"
"Hurry up and get the bloody hell out of my house!" bellowed Uncle Vernon. It seemed he'd found his voice again, and he wasn't at all happy about having three strange men in his house, even if they were going to take his niece and nephew away. He moved as though to shove the twins towards the door, stopping in mid-step when Sirius leapt to his feet brandishing a long, slender stick of his own – Harry supposed it was a wand. After all, that's what magicians and the like were always using to do their magic.
Uncle Vernon's beady eyes darted from the wand to Sirius's intense, furious blue eyes and back again. He forced a meek smile over his fat face and took a step away from Samantha and Harry, though he still made an insistent shooing motion at them. "That's better," growled Sirius, his tone still threatening. His gaze softened as he turned back to Harry, gently starting to guide him and Samantha towards the door – he didn't seem at all concerned that they didn't have any of their things with them. To be honest, the twins didn't care either. They didn't really have anything worth going back past Uncle Vernon to get anyway. "Now, what were you saying, Harry?"
"Um…" Harry stammered for a moment, a bit surprised at being given the opportunity to speak. "I was just asking if we're going to be living with you…"
Sirius beamed down at the boy and started to muss his hair, sighing and lowering his hand when Harry flinched away. "Yes, you are, Harry. Samantha too."
Harry blinked and simply stared at the tall man before nodding his head numbly. "Um…okay…" he mumbled. He was really going away? With someone he didn't even really know. What was the man's name again? Harry couldn't remember if it'd been mentioned yet or not. Ordinarily he'd have asked for the man's name, but he was still rather surprised by the whole thing. Samantha, however, seemed to still have control over her voice.
"So when do you plan on introducing yourself? Or do you expect us to just go along with you like good little children and not ask any questions?" Cold green eyes gazed steadily at serious, just short of glaring at him.
"Ah..sorry.. I'm Sirius Black. I was a friend of your parents'," answered Sirius. He glanced towards the old man and the balding fellow and nodded slightly. The two men vanished with distinct popping noises. Sirius didn't bother to reassure Uncle Vernon – he found it more amusing to watch the fat man stammer and make odd, strangled sounds as he tried to comprehend where the other two wizards had gone. "Okay kids," he said as he pulled a tennis ball from one of his pockets, "we're going to go to my manor now. All you have to do is touch this, and then I'll say the trigger word, and we'll be transported there. Okay?"
Cold green eyes narrowed in thought. Samantha wasn't sure what to do. She didn't think refusing to go with him was an option. For one thing, he had a stick-wand thing, and she was fairly certain he could do some rather unpleasant things with them. For another, staying with Uncle Vernon was a stupid idea. She nodded shortly and walked back down the hall to the cupboard she'd shared with her brother for the past eleven years. She grabbed the tattered backpack that they'd packed the night before and walked back out to the living room, making sure to avoid moving too close to Uncle Vernon.
Sirius frowned at the backpack – it really did look as though it was about to burst open, spilling its contents on the floor. He sighed and pointed his wand at it, murmuring a repairing spell under his breath. Harry stared as the backpack seemed to mend itself before his eyes – Samantha merely watched in calm silence. "Okay…ready?"
The twins nodded, each of them reaching out and pressing their fingertips to the tennis ball that Sirius held out to them. Samantha didn't expect anything to happen, so it was a surprise when, as Sirius spoke the trigger word, she felt an odd tugging sensation near her navel. She and Harry both felt themselves suddenly being pulled forward and, try as they might, couldn't keep their balance. They both toppled forward, landing on the cool hardwood floor. Naturally they thought this quite odd – Aunt Petunia insisted on carpeting in the living room. They sat up slowly and looked around, twin pairs of vivid green eyes widening as they took in their new surroundings.