Author's Notes-
Covering my own bum a bit: The Realm of Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to the fabulous JK Rowling. How I wish I could live there, but I don't. So I make these characters and do horrible things to their lives. Because they need to be messed up in any way shape or form. Hah.
Blah blah blah, Snape doesn't belong to me either (although I wish..), but both Ginger and Zoey are my own character. Do not take them, or I will behead you and put your head on a stick in front of my house.
Amaltheia and her family belong to Rachel, and I hope she won't hurt me for using them.
Raven belongs to Colleen, and the same goes for her. (Love you girls).
And a final thing: If you don't like OCs, or anyone related to the canon characters, do not read this. You will NOT like it. You will want to rip out your eyes and wear them for earrings. Ginger is that type of OC. Deal with it.
And please don't flame me. I love you ^^
Falling Apart
Prologue and Chapter One
The room was dark, except for a few candles here and there. It was as silent as a tomb, although there were many people in a circle, hovering over the woman. She was in her early thirties, fire-red curls fallen over her bruised face. Her clothing torn, her body broken in places that she didn't know could hurt, she curled herself up on the floor and shivered, crying silently, her throat raw from screaming so much. Perhaps she was already half insane from the amount of torture she had received.
"I'll ask you one last time." A voice hissed in the darkness. "Where is she?"
The woman lifted her head very slowly, her neck aching. "No." It was her only words on the matter. Her last words.
The darkness seemed to become even more cloudy to the woman as she closed her eyes, knowing that someone was taking out a wand at the moment. A flash of green light enveloped her, and her spirit left her body, never to return. She was dead.
Out of the darkness, a man yelled in both pain and anger. "ZOEY!"
And somewhere, a 4 year old girl with raven hair fell to her knees and cried./i
---
"The train will be leaving shortly, Miss Dashwood." The voice on the other side of the door said softly, knocking again for the third time that morning. "You best be ready."
"I am. I am." Ginger rolled her eyes. It was the third time that the maid had come and reminded the girl. As if she would forget that she had to go back to school. It would be her sixth year at Hogwarts, a Gryffindor, even though she didn't think she deserved to be in that house. It was for the goody-goodies of the school, not for the girl who had to be anonymous.
Not that I mind being anonymous, She thought to herself as she ran a brush through her long black hair, then pulled it into a quick ponytail. She wore a torn skirt, with what looked like a slashed petticoat underneath it. Her tank top had ribbons attached to it on the straps and criss-crossing the front like a corset. Ginger felt like a gypsy girl in this outfit, and she knew that it made her stand out.
She did a quick spin and smiled at her reflection as the mirror girl's ribbons splayed out around her.
"The girl in the mirror wants to spin with us, Mommy!" Ginger could hear this in her mind. It reminded her of when she was three. She and her mother would grab hands and twirl until both got so dizzy they couldn't stand. They always spun in front of two tall mirrors that Ginger's room held.
"She is spinning with us, Ginger. Her mommy's spinning too. Let's see if we can go faster than them." The sound of her mother's voice in her memories made her eyes mist over a bit. Another spin in front of the mirror, hands out, grasping for air but gaining nothing. There were no hands to hold onto anymore.
Coming out of the room, she glanced at the maid that huffed at the time. "See? I'm ready, and I'm on time. Not like I couldn't get there without the train." The woman was new, and seemed to have absolutely no patience for Ginger in any way, shape or form. The girl wasn't 'ladylike' and didn't act like a pureblooded young woman should have. Ginger plotted, vowing that by the time she returned to the school after Winter Break, the maid would be fired. Such was the life.
At the platform, Ginger wheeled her trunk on the dolly and glanced behind her. That maid accompanied her the entire way. Someone was always accompanying her. She never knew why. Perhaps it was because it was frowned upon to be so late, as Ginger usually was. She smirked to herself at a fleeting thought, an image of getting on the wrong train at the wrong platform and seeing where it would take her. But that was frowned upon too. Ginger sighed and ran to the pillar, disappearing into the wall and on the other side.
As usual, the train sat there as if it waited for her alone. Never mind the crowd of students and their parents. Ginger loaded her trunk and watched a red-haired girl board the train, but not before hugging her mother fiercely. Weasleys, Ginger mused to herself. There are so many of them, they're not rich, but they're happier than I am. She chewed on her lower lip and started on the train, practically walking into a girl with long brown hair whose face was buried in a book.
"I'm sorry!!" The girl cried as they boarded. Ginger barely looked at her as she found an empty compartment. There was no need to be sorry, it happened. But she didn't say that out loud. She wished to remain anonymous for a few seconds more.
But that wasn't about to happen. Not anytime soon.
Covering my own bum a bit: The Realm of Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to the fabulous JK Rowling. How I wish I could live there, but I don't. So I make these characters and do horrible things to their lives. Because they need to be messed up in any way shape or form. Hah.
Blah blah blah, Snape doesn't belong to me either (although I wish..), but both Ginger and Zoey are my own character. Do not take them, or I will behead you and put your head on a stick in front of my house.
Amaltheia and her family belong to Rachel, and I hope she won't hurt me for using them.
Raven belongs to Colleen, and the same goes for her. (Love you girls).
And a final thing: If you don't like OCs, or anyone related to the canon characters, do not read this. You will NOT like it. You will want to rip out your eyes and wear them for earrings. Ginger is that type of OC. Deal with it.
And please don't flame me. I love you ^^
Falling Apart
Prologue and Chapter One
The room was dark, except for a few candles here and there. It was as silent as a tomb, although there were many people in a circle, hovering over the woman. She was in her early thirties, fire-red curls fallen over her bruised face. Her clothing torn, her body broken in places that she didn't know could hurt, she curled herself up on the floor and shivered, crying silently, her throat raw from screaming so much. Perhaps she was already half insane from the amount of torture she had received.
"I'll ask you one last time." A voice hissed in the darkness. "Where is she?"
The woman lifted her head very slowly, her neck aching. "No." It was her only words on the matter. Her last words.
The darkness seemed to become even more cloudy to the woman as she closed her eyes, knowing that someone was taking out a wand at the moment. A flash of green light enveloped her, and her spirit left her body, never to return. She was dead.
Out of the darkness, a man yelled in both pain and anger. "ZOEY!"
And somewhere, a 4 year old girl with raven hair fell to her knees and cried./i
---
"The train will be leaving shortly, Miss Dashwood." The voice on the other side of the door said softly, knocking again for the third time that morning. "You best be ready."
"I am. I am." Ginger rolled her eyes. It was the third time that the maid had come and reminded the girl. As if she would forget that she had to go back to school. It would be her sixth year at Hogwarts, a Gryffindor, even though she didn't think she deserved to be in that house. It was for the goody-goodies of the school, not for the girl who had to be anonymous.
Not that I mind being anonymous, She thought to herself as she ran a brush through her long black hair, then pulled it into a quick ponytail. She wore a torn skirt, with what looked like a slashed petticoat underneath it. Her tank top had ribbons attached to it on the straps and criss-crossing the front like a corset. Ginger felt like a gypsy girl in this outfit, and she knew that it made her stand out.
She did a quick spin and smiled at her reflection as the mirror girl's ribbons splayed out around her.
"The girl in the mirror wants to spin with us, Mommy!" Ginger could hear this in her mind. It reminded her of when she was three. She and her mother would grab hands and twirl until both got so dizzy they couldn't stand. They always spun in front of two tall mirrors that Ginger's room held.
"She is spinning with us, Ginger. Her mommy's spinning too. Let's see if we can go faster than them." The sound of her mother's voice in her memories made her eyes mist over a bit. Another spin in front of the mirror, hands out, grasping for air but gaining nothing. There were no hands to hold onto anymore.
Coming out of the room, she glanced at the maid that huffed at the time. "See? I'm ready, and I'm on time. Not like I couldn't get there without the train." The woman was new, and seemed to have absolutely no patience for Ginger in any way, shape or form. The girl wasn't 'ladylike' and didn't act like a pureblooded young woman should have. Ginger plotted, vowing that by the time she returned to the school after Winter Break, the maid would be fired. Such was the life.
At the platform, Ginger wheeled her trunk on the dolly and glanced behind her. That maid accompanied her the entire way. Someone was always accompanying her. She never knew why. Perhaps it was because it was frowned upon to be so late, as Ginger usually was. She smirked to herself at a fleeting thought, an image of getting on the wrong train at the wrong platform and seeing where it would take her. But that was frowned upon too. Ginger sighed and ran to the pillar, disappearing into the wall and on the other side.
As usual, the train sat there as if it waited for her alone. Never mind the crowd of students and their parents. Ginger loaded her trunk and watched a red-haired girl board the train, but not before hugging her mother fiercely. Weasleys, Ginger mused to herself. There are so many of them, they're not rich, but they're happier than I am. She chewed on her lower lip and started on the train, practically walking into a girl with long brown hair whose face was buried in a book.
"I'm sorry!!" The girl cried as they boarded. Ginger barely looked at her as she found an empty compartment. There was no need to be sorry, it happened. But she didn't say that out loud. She wished to remain anonymous for a few seconds more.
But that wasn't about to happen. Not anytime soon.