Hopefully this'll be alright. First tentative step into Harry Potter
fanficing. Please Review.
Erin's numb fingers gripped the fork tightly as she mucked the stalls of her horses. This was her life. This was the only thing she was good for, the dirty work that her adoptive family didn't feel like doing. She dumped the soiled bedding into the muck bucket and leaned the fork against the stall wall. Erin curled her fingers into the horse's thick winter fur and waited till they warmed.
"This is not my home, Angel. I don't belong here." Sighing, she dragged the bucket out of the stall. Snow sifted from the sky outside as she gave the stall a new layer of shavings. It was December, almost Christmas break. But home was no better than school, where the students teased her about not having any friends. They just never gave her a chance.
She fed her only friends and then began back towards the home where she would lie silently in her bedroom. if you could call it that. She hugged her meager flannel shirt tightly around her and looked wistfully to the sky, thinking about that letter she had received five years ago. She could recall it clearly today. It was of off-white parchment with green ink addressing her and it was sealed with red wax in an emblem with an H on it.
She pulled the door to the large house open and stepped into the warmth. She pushed her boots off and shrugged away her shirt.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? YOU TAKE TOO LONG IN THE BARN AND THEN LET THE DINNER BURN! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU?"
"I'm sorry Dad." He wasn't her dad, not by any means. It was required of her to call him that unless she wanted her ass chapped.
"SORRY MY ASS! GO TO YOUR ROOM! NO DINNER!" He fumed at the ears, if possible and his face was a deep, deep shade of red, if not purple. He was a hateful man. He'd never been good to Erin. No Christmas presents would come from him, or from her "mother". The only reason they adopted her was to have a slave that they would only pay with food and housing, no love at all.
"Yes, sir." She hurried past him, but she still caught his backhand blow that was laid across her cheek. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and hurried on. She shut the door and locked it. Inside, she sat on her cot and tenderly touched her face. She gave a loud sniff and a fat tear rolled down her burning cheek. She gave a heaving sob as she pulled a letter, slightly crumpled, from under her bed. The green ink looked fuzzy before her eyes, but rubbing them, her fingers becoming wet, she saw that it wrote her name neatly, in curving handwriting. Erin Abernathy. A necklace she had owned for as long as she could remember hung swung back and forth in front of the letter. It was a simple, yet beautiful key on a golden chain, the only memory of her real parents.
What could she do now? Run away to a circus? No, she was probably even to deformed for that. She didn't have the clothes or the skills to live alone in the rugged Scottish weather. She shuddered against the tears. Only recently had he come to beating her. This had been the second time. Both times had been over juvenile things, such as being in the stable too long. She wanted to scream at the world, scream at him, at them. If she did, her head would be mounted on their living room wall next week.
A new wave of fresh tears flowed from her and she threw herself onto her flat, old pillow to sob the night away.
McGonagall let out a deep breath. "It's happened again, Albus. The girl is being beaten."
The old headmaster leaned back in his chair. "We must get her here immediately. She will be a strong witch, I believe, if only we could get her away. Any suggestions?" He asked the other professors.
Professor Flitwick shook his head solemnly.
"It's strange to have such a large ordeal about a girl that doesn't attend our school," Professor Snape said coldly.
"Severus, she's a young witch. I sent her many a letter five years ago, with no luck. Her adoptive parents won't yield, they don't want to loose a good worker," Dumbledor said calmly. The potions teacher fell silent.
"Now," continued Professor McGonagall. "How do we get her here?" The room sat in silence.
"Maybe the Ministry of Magic will help?" Professor Sprout quietly inquired . "Oh, no. They are much too tied up with raids, once again, to busy themselves with getting a girl to school," McGonagall answered. The staff room fell quiet again.
Suddenly Madam Hooch's eyes widened. "Do you think--? Brooms, maybe."
"They would be seen, no doubt," Snape said.
"Maybe not. at night and Albus, didn't you say that Potter had an invisibility cloak?" Dumbledor nodded. "Harry is the best seeker out there. And Wood, the old Gryffindor captain could do it if Harry was unwilling."
"You do have a point," Professor McGonagall said.
"That's it then, we will inform Harry tomorrow," Albus Dumbledor concluded. "As for now. I have to instruct Hagrid to find some prime Christmas trees. Meeting dismissed."
Harry gathered his books in his arms after Transfiguration and pushed them into his bag. Turning a flower to a songbird. Riiight. he thought.
"Come on, Harry. We haven't got all day," said Ron.
"Actually, Potter, you can wait with me for a moment," came McGonagall's voice form her desk as she shuffled the homework that they had turned in.
Hermione bit her lip. No doubt they were in trouble for last nights bought of sneaking to Hagrid's. It was simply to find out about this girl that is unable to come. Hagrid had told them all he knew, thankfully.
"Weasly, Granger," Professor McGonagall said, provoking them to hurry out the door, closing it behind them. As the headed towards the dungeons, they pondered the reasoning.
"Why is it only Harry? I mean, we were with him the whole time, how could she not have seen us?" Ron asked.
"Maybe that's not the reason, Ron," Hermione said as if it was obvious. Ron rolled his eyes and they continued to Potions.
"Yes, Professor?"
She gave a sigh. "How do I say this?" Harry raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she continued. "No doubt you have heard the rumors floating about the castle of the girl who is unable to come to Hogwarts due to her adoptive parents." Harry gulped. She'd caught him. Again. "Unfortunately, she is experiencing some problems. Her father is beating her, Harry." Harry's eyes widened. Ok, maybe this wasn't about what he thought it was. "Yes."
Just then, Dumbledor entered the room. "Good day, Minerva, Harry."
"Hello, Professor Dumbledor, sir," Harry said. The old wizard took a seat in one of the student's chairs.
"Please, continue, I'm sorry to interrupt."
McGonagall went on. "We see it as out duty to bring Erin-the girl- to Hogwarts. We need your help, Harry."
"Me?"
"Yes. The best way to reach her is not by any bit of transportation Muggles posses. Not even a flying car." She looked over her glasses at him, reminding him of his second year trip to Hogwarts castle. "I believe the best approach is a broomstick and so no Muggles will see, an invisibility charm, or in some lucky people's cases, an invisibility cloak."
"You're asking if I will retrieve her from her home?"
"Yes."
"I-I-" Dumbledor stood.
"I see where you stand, Harry. You are no doubt unwilling to miss the Christmas feast and you friend's company. It is alright." He smiled at the fifth year.
"But, what about the girl, Erin?"
"We will ask Oliver Wood to get her, but we need you to lend us two things. Your cloak and your Firebolt."
Harry gasped. "My cloak and my Firebolt?!?!" and before he could stop himself in front of his Professor and Headmaster, "You have got to be joking." Dumbledor let out a chuckle and even Professor McGonagall smiled.
"Yes, Harry. Both," Dumbledor said. "They will be in safe hands, do you not trust you old Quidditch captain?"
"But doesn't Oliver have a broom of his own?"
"It's a Nimbus 2001. A good broom, but not quite strong enough for two people. That's why we're calling on your Firebolt," McGonagall said quietly.
Harry nodded, calming. "Alright. Just tell me when you need them."
Dumbledor opened the door for him, but as he was about to leave, McGonagall called him back. "Potter." He turned. "More than one person cannot thank you enough." She handed him a bit of parchment that was an excuse for being tardy to Potions.
Harry nodded, smiling. That was what would get him through the next Potions class.
Erin's numb fingers gripped the fork tightly as she mucked the stalls of her horses. This was her life. This was the only thing she was good for, the dirty work that her adoptive family didn't feel like doing. She dumped the soiled bedding into the muck bucket and leaned the fork against the stall wall. Erin curled her fingers into the horse's thick winter fur and waited till they warmed.
"This is not my home, Angel. I don't belong here." Sighing, she dragged the bucket out of the stall. Snow sifted from the sky outside as she gave the stall a new layer of shavings. It was December, almost Christmas break. But home was no better than school, where the students teased her about not having any friends. They just never gave her a chance.
She fed her only friends and then began back towards the home where she would lie silently in her bedroom. if you could call it that. She hugged her meager flannel shirt tightly around her and looked wistfully to the sky, thinking about that letter she had received five years ago. She could recall it clearly today. It was of off-white parchment with green ink addressing her and it was sealed with red wax in an emblem with an H on it.
She pulled the door to the large house open and stepped into the warmth. She pushed her boots off and shrugged away her shirt.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? YOU TAKE TOO LONG IN THE BARN AND THEN LET THE DINNER BURN! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU?"
"I'm sorry Dad." He wasn't her dad, not by any means. It was required of her to call him that unless she wanted her ass chapped.
"SORRY MY ASS! GO TO YOUR ROOM! NO DINNER!" He fumed at the ears, if possible and his face was a deep, deep shade of red, if not purple. He was a hateful man. He'd never been good to Erin. No Christmas presents would come from him, or from her "mother". The only reason they adopted her was to have a slave that they would only pay with food and housing, no love at all.
"Yes, sir." She hurried past him, but she still caught his backhand blow that was laid across her cheek. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and hurried on. She shut the door and locked it. Inside, she sat on her cot and tenderly touched her face. She gave a loud sniff and a fat tear rolled down her burning cheek. She gave a heaving sob as she pulled a letter, slightly crumpled, from under her bed. The green ink looked fuzzy before her eyes, but rubbing them, her fingers becoming wet, she saw that it wrote her name neatly, in curving handwriting. Erin Abernathy. A necklace she had owned for as long as she could remember hung swung back and forth in front of the letter. It was a simple, yet beautiful key on a golden chain, the only memory of her real parents.
What could she do now? Run away to a circus? No, she was probably even to deformed for that. She didn't have the clothes or the skills to live alone in the rugged Scottish weather. She shuddered against the tears. Only recently had he come to beating her. This had been the second time. Both times had been over juvenile things, such as being in the stable too long. She wanted to scream at the world, scream at him, at them. If she did, her head would be mounted on their living room wall next week.
A new wave of fresh tears flowed from her and she threw herself onto her flat, old pillow to sob the night away.
McGonagall let out a deep breath. "It's happened again, Albus. The girl is being beaten."
The old headmaster leaned back in his chair. "We must get her here immediately. She will be a strong witch, I believe, if only we could get her away. Any suggestions?" He asked the other professors.
Professor Flitwick shook his head solemnly.
"It's strange to have such a large ordeal about a girl that doesn't attend our school," Professor Snape said coldly.
"Severus, she's a young witch. I sent her many a letter five years ago, with no luck. Her adoptive parents won't yield, they don't want to loose a good worker," Dumbledor said calmly. The potions teacher fell silent.
"Now," continued Professor McGonagall. "How do we get her here?" The room sat in silence.
"Maybe the Ministry of Magic will help?" Professor Sprout quietly inquired . "Oh, no. They are much too tied up with raids, once again, to busy themselves with getting a girl to school," McGonagall answered. The staff room fell quiet again.
Suddenly Madam Hooch's eyes widened. "Do you think--? Brooms, maybe."
"They would be seen, no doubt," Snape said.
"Maybe not. at night and Albus, didn't you say that Potter had an invisibility cloak?" Dumbledor nodded. "Harry is the best seeker out there. And Wood, the old Gryffindor captain could do it if Harry was unwilling."
"You do have a point," Professor McGonagall said.
"That's it then, we will inform Harry tomorrow," Albus Dumbledor concluded. "As for now. I have to instruct Hagrid to find some prime Christmas trees. Meeting dismissed."
Harry gathered his books in his arms after Transfiguration and pushed them into his bag. Turning a flower to a songbird. Riiight. he thought.
"Come on, Harry. We haven't got all day," said Ron.
"Actually, Potter, you can wait with me for a moment," came McGonagall's voice form her desk as she shuffled the homework that they had turned in.
Hermione bit her lip. No doubt they were in trouble for last nights bought of sneaking to Hagrid's. It was simply to find out about this girl that is unable to come. Hagrid had told them all he knew, thankfully.
"Weasly, Granger," Professor McGonagall said, provoking them to hurry out the door, closing it behind them. As the headed towards the dungeons, they pondered the reasoning.
"Why is it only Harry? I mean, we were with him the whole time, how could she not have seen us?" Ron asked.
"Maybe that's not the reason, Ron," Hermione said as if it was obvious. Ron rolled his eyes and they continued to Potions.
"Yes, Professor?"
She gave a sigh. "How do I say this?" Harry raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she continued. "No doubt you have heard the rumors floating about the castle of the girl who is unable to come to Hogwarts due to her adoptive parents." Harry gulped. She'd caught him. Again. "Unfortunately, she is experiencing some problems. Her father is beating her, Harry." Harry's eyes widened. Ok, maybe this wasn't about what he thought it was. "Yes."
Just then, Dumbledor entered the room. "Good day, Minerva, Harry."
"Hello, Professor Dumbledor, sir," Harry said. The old wizard took a seat in one of the student's chairs.
"Please, continue, I'm sorry to interrupt."
McGonagall went on. "We see it as out duty to bring Erin-the girl- to Hogwarts. We need your help, Harry."
"Me?"
"Yes. The best way to reach her is not by any bit of transportation Muggles posses. Not even a flying car." She looked over her glasses at him, reminding him of his second year trip to Hogwarts castle. "I believe the best approach is a broomstick and so no Muggles will see, an invisibility charm, or in some lucky people's cases, an invisibility cloak."
"You're asking if I will retrieve her from her home?"
"Yes."
"I-I-" Dumbledor stood.
"I see where you stand, Harry. You are no doubt unwilling to miss the Christmas feast and you friend's company. It is alright." He smiled at the fifth year.
"But, what about the girl, Erin?"
"We will ask Oliver Wood to get her, but we need you to lend us two things. Your cloak and your Firebolt."
Harry gasped. "My cloak and my Firebolt?!?!" and before he could stop himself in front of his Professor and Headmaster, "You have got to be joking." Dumbledor let out a chuckle and even Professor McGonagall smiled.
"Yes, Harry. Both," Dumbledor said. "They will be in safe hands, do you not trust you old Quidditch captain?"
"But doesn't Oliver have a broom of his own?"
"It's a Nimbus 2001. A good broom, but not quite strong enough for two people. That's why we're calling on your Firebolt," McGonagall said quietly.
Harry nodded, calming. "Alright. Just tell me when you need them."
Dumbledor opened the door for him, but as he was about to leave, McGonagall called him back. "Potter." He turned. "More than one person cannot thank you enough." She handed him a bit of parchment that was an excuse for being tardy to Potions.
Harry nodded, smiling. That was what would get him through the next Potions class.