A/N: Ok, I have no idea where I get any of these ideas, but it seemed good at the time. Oh, well, I guess I should state that Ms. Rowling owns everything Harry Potter in story…lucky her. Well, I think I'll start my story now. Comment and enjoy. Oh and I might change some things as the story goes so if you're confused…stay confused…evil little me…
Oh, and her friends name is pronounced Jillian but spelled Gillian or in other words Jillybean/Gillybean…got it?
Sweet Torture and Beautiful Misery
By:
VictorianWiccan
She leans over the balcony, the warm summer night's breeze blowing through her silky brown hair. Black rivers of mascara cover her cheeks. She'd been crying again, the third time this week. This particular girl felt very lonely. No one understood her, they just passed her by, not holding her worth and fragility in mind; they were too caught up in their own petty worlds. In her high school, she feels worse, like the people walk through her; she doesn't exist.
What if I jumped, thought the girl, would anyone notice? Those thoughts haunted her senses. Should she? Would it be worth the fall and loss of a future? With a deep sigh, she picked up her head and walked back in the serene silence of her empty room. Rain began to trickle down her window. She watches the lightning streak the sky for just a moment; that moment was all she needed. Not tonight, she thought to herself, not now…
The next day she woke up to a crash in the kitchen. Pulling a bathrobe over her pajamas, she flew down the stairs to find her mother sprawled out on the kitchen tiles. "Mom, are you alright?"
"I'm fine!" At once she swatted away her daughters helping hand. "Get away from me, you little brat!"
"Mom, what's wrong?"
Her mother glared, full of hatred at her, "You made him leave! He left me!"
"I didn't even know that he had left, how could I have done it?"
"He hated you! You were a terrible servant and you didn't make enough money at that little gas station job of yours!" she shouted. Then she mumbled out of the corner of her mouth, "I should have sent you to that school when I had a chance."
The girl froze, "What did you say?"
"Nothing, shut up, and mind your business."
"No, you said 'send me to a school', what school?"
Her mother shot another glare at her, "You're a witch, Abigail! As am I and the whole line of my family. I was going to send you to a boarding school to teach you witchcraft, but I didn't think you deserved it. Now, I just want you OUT!"
"Y-you never t-told me?" she inquired in barely a whisper. Her eyes began to burn with tears again.
"Why should I have?" Her mother fumbled around in a drawer and pulled out a feather and ragged paper. "I wonder if Dumbledore will still take you in?"
"Who?"
"The headmaster at the school. New term is about to start and I can't bare to have you ruin my life any longer," she added casually and slapped her daughter on the cheek.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Abby, rushing to the front door. She opened it to a cheery faced girl.
"Abby! You'll NEVER guess! I got accepted to a witch school! All those séances, and I'm a real witch!"
"Abby couldn't believe her ears. Both of them witches? "What's the name of the school?" she asked finally getting her thoughts together.
The blonde haired girl looked at the top of an old parchment and read, "Salem Witch's Institute. Why?"
"I am going to a school too, for magic. But, it's called like Hoggart's or something."
"Hogwarts!"
"That's it. You know of it?"
"It's only the most famous wizarding school in the world! You're so lucky Abby."
"I guess, but I'll miss you SO much, Gillybean! You're my best friend, what am I going to do without you? No more séances, that's for sure."
The two girls spent the rest of the night reminiscing of their past encounters of witchery and prepared themselves for what lay ahead.
"Don't forget to write me ALL the time, OK? I love you and I'll see you when you get back!" Gilly left that night, throwing Abigail into a fit of loneliness that she knew would haunt her all the way through Hogwarts.
The next day followed, with the most peculiar things happening. When Abigail first woke up, there was a light pecking on her window. A tawny brown owl fluttered in as she opened it, a letter attached to its leg. Feeling apprehensive, she pulled it off carefully and unrolled the parchment that read:
To Ms. Abigail Lucas,
You have been formally invited, although late as it is, to study at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It will be most difficult for you to catch up with the rest of the sixth years with whom you'll be attending classes with, but we know how extraordinary your mind is and your intelligence is most honorable. We will do all we can to help speed up the process.
A list of your required schoolbooks and supplies is on the second sheet of parchment you received. I hope you will be comfortable this year, as I know this will be very difficult. We will explain more upon your arrival. The Hogwarts express leaves King's Cross Station at 11:00 am exactly, so be on time.
Signed,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
"Wow, looks like I need A LOT of preparation. Six years of magic in one year? No fun for Abby this year," she spoke to the mirror.
After packing her new belongings from Diagon Alley, which her mother flat out refused her to go and got them for her, Abby and her mother set out for King's Cross Station. "I'll send word if I have anything to complain about. Oh, and have a good term." With that last precious parting, Abby walked, amazingly through to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The gleaming red train on the other side smoked and children everywhere were saying goodbye to their parents. She stepped onto the train and immediately found an empty compartment. This is going to be a long ride, she thought as the train began to move.
Abby shuffled through her large trunk and pulled out a spiral notebook and pen and began to write:
You love me But you don't know who I am I'm torn between this life I lead And where I stand You love me But you don't know who I am So let me goA/N: Oh, I forgot, I'm associating songs and song titles throughout the story…thought I'd mention that to you…
The compartment door opened swiftly and a group stood in its threshold. The foremost boy with untidy black hair and glasses, spoke, "Do you mind if we join you? Everywhere else is full."
"Sure, it might be nice to have company," said Abby with a faint smile. She hadn't had very many friends before and this was all so overwhelming for her.
He smiled and filed into the cart with her, two other people tailing behind him, a tall, lanky boy with fiery red hair and a bushy brown haired girl, who was very pretty. But, again, the boy with the glasses spoke, only this time he was much closer and Abby could make out a thin lightening bolt shaped scar on her forehead. "This is Ron Weasley," he said pointed to the red-haired boy, "and Hermione Granger."
The girl with the bushy hair smiled and said "Hello." The boy with glasses spoke again, this time putting out his hand to shake, "I'm Harry Potter. You look much older than the other first years, what year are you in?"
"My name's Abigail, call me Abby, and I'm supposed to be in sixth year I think, but I'm new here, just starting."
"That's what year we're in!" said Ron excitedly; he hadn't taken his eyes off Abby since they were introduced. Indeed she was beautiful, but Abby thought nothing of herself as a looker, so she simply shrugged it off.
"I don't quite understand anything that's going on yet, but if there's basics, please feel free to help," Abigail injected desperately.
Harry laughed and said, "One thing, Hermione is the best in our year, and she's incredibly smart."
"Well, I hope you don't mind me inquiring your help this year."
Hermione chuckled slightly and responded, "It's not a problem, in fact, I'd be glad to help." She had looked down at her watch and turned to Ron, "We've got to go and make rounds. Talk to you later, Abby."
As Hermione and Ron parted, Abby told Harry to wake her before they reached the school because she needed sleep. She closed her eyes and drifted quickly into a vision of success. Maybe this year won't be so bad after all, she thought as she shifted in her sleep.