AN: I do not own the Harry Potter characters. They belong to J. K. Rowling only. I do own the ideas (credits: Phyllis and Laurel) and original characters.
After I had left Harry to do whatever he did, I went up to the man at the counter who looked very tired, or maybe just drunk. I think he was the Inn keeper, but I couldn't be too sure.
"Excuse me, Sir. Could I please have a room for a week?" I asked him politely. He looked up at me with tired blood-shot eyes. He looked like he needed a good rest.
"Room 56. Three galleons for a week," he had said to me with a sleepy, bored or drunk tone – I couldn't exactly tell. I handed him the three galleons and he took them and put them in a bowl. I wasn't expecting that the money would disappear and a key would appear – but it did. He took the key and handed it to me. It read 56 on the top and I was pretty sure that was my room.
"Thank you, Sir," I thanked him. My parents had always taught me to be nice. He just grumbled a "You're welcome," but I had already started up the stairs to room 56.
I opened the door and saw a bed, dresser and a mirror. I set my trunks down next to my bed and started to unpack my clothes into the dresser. The dresser was a bit dusty, but I didn't mind; I was glad that I at least had a place to stay at. I took out my toiletries and put them in the bathroom in an organized fashion. Yes, I was a neat freak and I still am.
I grabbed Quidditch Through the Ages, sat down on my bed and started to read. I loved that buck very much so; it was from my older sister who had been murdered by my parents. This book still smelled like her and I always remembered here whenever I read from this book. If I had to pick one thing to bring on a stranded island with me, I would rather bring this book rather than a load of food. This was the one, beat-up old thing that I loved. The night my parents murdered my sister I always wanted to be like went a bit like this:
"I will not be a deatheater!" I heard my sister yell in the other room. I was too young to understand what a deatheater was: evil, cruel, sadistic and malicious. I didn't even know there was the word deatheater. I only knew there was magic and my sister was in trouble.
"You will becomea deatheater!" I heard my father yell back at her. This didn't bother me that much because my parents would always yell and scream at us. This would be called child abuse but no one knew of it and it was regular to be abused when you're in a pure-blood family.
"I will not condemn my life to killing innocent people! And I would never –never– bow down to Voldemor! He's a psychotic serial killer that you would actually call a lord and look up to!!" I heard my sister yell at my dad with a temper ready to explode. If I had known what was going to happen very soon, I would not have sat there on my butt listening. I would have ran in there and bit my dad. Well, come on, I was only four.
"You will regret disobeying me and the Dark Lord!" My father's temper was rising so much, I could just imagine his face become red and his body trembling with anger.
"Oh, will I?" my very brave sister retorted. I know I would never have the courage to say that to my dad. I wouldn't have the courage to even say anything back to him.
"Yes, my dear Jocelyn. You will regret this ever so much!! Avada Kadvara!!!" I heard my dad shout with every piece of anger he had left in him, which was quite a lot, I must say. Over the years all he did was get mad at me and Jocelyn for just being there! If I forgot to greet one guest at his little pure-blood party things he wouldn't be so kind to me later.
I suddenly heard a high-pitched scream after my dad had screamed the most unforgivable curse of all at my sister. I immediately ran into that room as fast as my feet could carry me. I had known exactly what had happened to Jocelyn.
"What are you doing here, Hannah?! Go back to your room, now!" my dad roared at me with the same unloving tone he spoke to everyone with. I just bent over Jocelyn, held her cold hand against my warm one and hugged her. A tear had fallen onto her cheek silently as my father screamed, "Get out Hannah!!" with force. He picked me up roughly and placed me in my room. I didn't even protest for I knew what would happen if I did and I was already in enough trouble as it was.
"You insolent little girl,"– one slap –"how dare" – two slaps –"you disobey me?!" One more slap and he left the room after saying, "The same will happen to you if you don't know what's best for you." He slammed the door so hard it shook the house – well, more of mansion. I knew that in his last sentence he was referring to my sister. Jocelyn was the only one that I had ever loved – especially in my family.
I touched my cheek and felt it sting throughout my entire body. I knew it was going to leave a nasty bruise. I walked to the mirror and looked at myself. My little baby blue eyes blinked back tears and my brown hair had been messed up from my dad and sleeping earlier. My freckles sparkled because of my tears. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and walked into the bathroom. I washed my face and changed into my nightgown.
I curled up into a ball on my bed and cried for an hour until I promised myself that I, Hannah Simmons, would never become a deatheater. If that's not what my sister wanted, then I didn't want it eighter. I looked over at my end table and picked up Quidditch Through the Ages, the only thing I had left from my sister. She had given it to me last Christmas; it was hers and it was quite beat-up but I still loved it nonetheless. I read that one book over and over again for the remainder of the night. That night, I thought about the only one I had ever loved, Jocelyn Simmons, and I thought, Why would someone take her away from me? Especially dad? Well, the only person I loved until I went to Hogwarts.
I heard a knock on my door, ending my train of thoughts about my sister that had rushed back to me. I got up from my bed and walked over to the door. "Would you like your room cleaned or should I come back later?" a lady in ripped up clothes asked me with a heavy British accent.
"You could clean it now if you'd like, but if you have something else to do you could of course do that first…." I replied to her.
"Nah, nothing else to do in this bloody hotel. I should be finished in half an hour seeing as the last person had left this room quite a mess." I turned around to look at my room and noticed that there were a few wrappers scattered here and there, but not quite a mess in my opinion. Maybe she was more of a neat-freak than I was. Well, she was the house-cleaning-lady-person. I opened the door wide enough so she could come in with her broom and mop. I walked out the door; she obviously wanted to clean while I wasn't in there and I was just fine with that.
I walked down the stairs and looked around the Leaky Cauldron. It looked just like it had the last time I had come there. Wizards and witches were walking around, chattering and ordering drinks from the bar. They all looked like they were having a good time.
Lucky them.
I headed towards the door and walked outside into the bright light of Diagon Alley – my favorite place. I wanted to head to Flourish & Blotts first to read a little or maybe buy a book seeing as I was very bored at the moment and didn't have much to read. I walked into the store and greeted the shopkeeper – I came in there often so he knew who I was. I made my way to the back of the bookstore where all the reference books were. Yeah, I like reading reference books. Maybe I was just the typical Ravenclaw, but I didn't mind; a bookstore was like heaven on earth to me.
I picked up a few books and began to read a little bit of the beginning to see if I liked them or I just wouldn't get them. After about an hour of searching through random reference books, I found three that I really enjoyed. I couldn't remember the titles but I do remember that they were quite long and most people would find them just boring. I found them quite fascinating actually.
I walked up to the counter to pay for them and the total was five galleons and three knuts. I paid for them and took my books and headed off to the ice cream parlor since it was quite a hot day for the end of August. I picked up a cone of chocolate ice cream with caramel on it. Yum, my favorite type of ice cream. I was having a pretty good day all on my lonesome, as usual. I actually enjoyed being by myself most of the time, but sometimes I wanted to be a normal witch and hang out with friends for once. The only problem was that I didn't have any friends. Well, I guess you could have counted Harry as a semi-friend. Whatever, that day I was going to have fun.
I went to the quill shop next to look at the newest quills. I loved writing stories about muggles and their lifestyles, so I needed a lot of quills. I was looking through the quills when I found a beautiful quill that was white and had black tips. I went to the counter to buy it when I heard someone say behind me, "Well, if it isn't Simmons." I immediately recognized the voice to be none other than Draco Malfoy's.
I paid for my quill and turned around to face Malfoy. He was smirking at me with his usual smirk that was always plastered on his face. "Just leave me alone, Malfoy," I said quietly with all the courage I could muster. This was actually quite hard for me seeing as Malfoy used to be my boyfriend. Until I found him cheating on me.
"Oh, still mad about that, Simmons? It was likely to happen soon, you just never noticed." I had enough of him so I just stormed past him and out the door. I couldn't stand him anymore. He always brought back those horrid memories. I never liked remembering my days in Hogwarts during my fifth year. Well, let's just say it wasn't that pleasant. The story of Draco breaking up with me went something like this: