The Silent Life of Flora Jain Potter.

By Novum Arkilum.


AN:

Please take note that this story does not follow the canon timeline nor canon events to the letter, even diverging when the writer deems it necessary.

Hope you enjoy the story.


© Copyright disclaimer:

I (Novum Arkilum) do not claim any right to the Harry Potter franchise or anything connected to it. All rights belong to the original writer JK Rowling.

Thank you for your time.


Chapter two.

The Zoo.


Little under ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their niece on their front doorstep, Though unless you paid extreme attention, you wouldn't have noticed anything that had changed about the property of number four. The sun still steadily rose over the same tidy front garden and lit up the same brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept through the pristinely cleaned windows into the living room, which had not either changed at all.

On a mantle, you can find a photo of a family of three at a beach, with what looks like a carnival in the background.

The first in the photo was a big beefy man, with big beefy hands, and hardly any neck, but a great big moustache. On the other side of the photo was a thin blond woman with twice the usual amount of the neck, between them, was a smug-looking boy who looked like the man standing proudly next to him, the boy had no trace of his mother other than a mop of blond hair.

The Dursleys had everything they ever wanted, substantial wealth, well respected, and their son, Dudley going to the best school their money could buy. Though they also kept a secret. Their worst fear was that someone would discover what was hidden and locked away in the cupboard under the stairs, their niece, Flora Jain Potter.

Flora was a very short and unhealthy skinny for a ten-year-old girl she looked closer to five or six. Her long black hair was a proverbial crows nest, her short knobby legs, and short knobby arms, both showing plenty of bone structure when exposed, the only pretty part about her (if you asked her) seemed to be short but thin pencil-thin eyebrows, and small emerald green eyes that laid obscured behind old and beat up pair of wireframe glasses that looked ready to fall apart were it not for a thick layer of tape keeping the glasses together. along the side, her neck, running the full length was a scare, which became something that became quickly noticeable… The only part she had any interest in though regarding herself was a lightning-shaped scar on her forehead, the only thing she had ever asked her aunt and Uncle was how she had gotten it.

'In a car crash when your parents died!' Was the answer before she found herself on a table, and several minutes later, she had fallen unconscious and when she woke up again in her cupboard under the stairs, she had found that she had lost her ability to speak… no one would ever be able to explain how she had survived the endeavour, however, she was left never being able to speak again.

Flora woke up that morning to the rattling in the cupboard door… and the voice of her aunt Petunia.

'Wake up! Wake up!' She called In, then rattled the door again before leaving briefly.

Flora woken forlornly, she had been having the most wonderful but the strangest of dreams… She had been on a giant flying motorbike. She picked up a sock, shooing out a spider which settled inside it for the night before putting it on, along with its pair along with an old greying skirt with several small tears along the bottom edge, along with her cousin Dudley's old shirt, which was at least ten times too large for her.

All too soon Aunt Petunia returned and rattled on. The door again 'are you up yet, you little brat! I want you on the stove! And you best not burn anything! I want everything perfect for my sweet Dudlykin's birthday.' She said before once again rattling on the door.

Flora furrowed her brows a little and she had forgotten it was Dudley's birthday. Dudley shared birthdays on July thirty first. It would be her eleventh, whilst Dudley would be turning twelve.

Flora tied her belt around her waist, the shirt going down to her feet effectively becoming a gown, making it very difficult to walk. She opened the cupboard door, and her away into the kitchen before Dudley could get downstairs and slam the cupboard door in her face, something she learned very quickly to avoid early on.

She got out the footstool to stand on to reach the stovetop and had just got three eggs on the frying pan when she heard and felt the quivering of her whale-like cousin jump up and down on the stairs sending dust particles down onto her vacant bedding.

'Wake up Flora, Wake up!' He yelled before running again with great thumping steps causing the howl house to quiver violently.

When he got to the kitchen his brows furrowed angrily when he spotted her at the stove before turning his attention to the kitchen table which groaned under the vast pile of gifts and parcels that lay upon… in fact, Flora was very sure that there was nowhere to place any plates for breakfast for the Dursley's. As it was Wednesday, and her one meal wasn't until Friday if she was a good little girl and got all her chores done that week. There were more than a few times that Flora hadn't managed to finish all her chores for the day and thus didn't get her meal of porridge, plain (very often, old and dry) bread and a glass of water (of which she was permitted one glass per day).

Dudley looked to be trying very hard to count his presents… Unfortunately, neither math nor numbers, in general, were his strong suit when it came to his academics nothing was his strong suit unless you counted lunchtime and his Favourite sport, Flora hunting. Which as far as Dudley was concerned counted very much.

Thankfully, as far as Flora was concerned, she and Dudley would finally be in separate schools once more which only happened every few years due to their age, with Dudly being a year older and would be going to Smeltings a prestigious secondary school that rested on its accolades, as its tolerance for bullying relaxed until the problem became pandemic.

whilst Flora remained in the local primary school for her final year.

'How many many are there?!' Dudley asked aggressively.

Uncle Vernon chuckled, 'very good son, want your money's worth, just like your old man … thirty-six, counted them myself.'

Last year there had been forty and the old table had collapsed in on itself, of course, somehow Flora was at fouls never mind the logic.

Though strange things always seemed to happen around Flora, especially when she became scared or upset… which in turn always led her into trouble with her teachers and as a result the Dursleys.

Even if she were able, she couldn't have even begun to explain to the teachers how she had ended up on the school roof of all places when all she had wanted was to get away from Dudley… maybe she had supposed once a strong gust of wind had caught her mid-jump… though the idea made just as little sense as the rest of the ideas she had managed to come up with (especially when the roof tuned out to be the last place she wanted to be). It was just as strange as when she had turned a particularly mean and scary daycare teacher's hair a bright neon blue. The Dursley's never took her back there again

The Daycare centre had been replaced by Mrs Figg. Though after she had reached school age she only saw Mrs Figg once a year during Dudley's birthday. Mrs Figg was a strange but very kind old lady who lived next door, it was with her that Flora celebrated her birthday alongside Mrs Figg's many cats. Though she never figured out how to tell Mrs Figg that she doesn't like the tea she served.., but always ended up drinking it regardless of her intentions not to.

With the eggs done, cleared off the frying pan and plated, Flora, gingerly placed twelve fat, juicy breakfast sausages on the frying pan where they started to sizzle in the fat that slowly melted off of them in cascades of the small droplets. Soon after, hot steam billowed up from the pan, blinding Flora and misted up her glasses. Once the steam had cleared she quickly took them off and rubbed them clean (or as clean as she could get them) with the hem of her shirt, the sole distraction came as Duddly started to enthusiastically tear his way through the wrapping paper, soon joining his vast collection of toys, was a new bike, a remote-controlled aeroplane, a new personal home computer, and an absurd amount of video games, and the toys kept increasing more and more as presents where being torn open, there where even a handful of books, which to Flora looked fascinating, however, Dudley didn't spend long concerning himself with them if it all.

It was only as the sausages had started to sizzle and sputter that Flora remembered them, though had managed to completely forget that she had only just put them on, gingerly plating them alongside the eggs. After turning off the stove, she turned to face aunt petunia to try to indicate that the food was ready, though she wasn't there.

Though it proved unnecessary as uncle Vernon was wolfing down his plate a few short seconds later… Then another few seconds later he spat out the sausage he had been eating and then Flora found herself being flung through the air, her ear ringing and cheek aching with pain, she hated it when her feet left the comfort of solid ground, when she landed with a thud on the carpeted floor in the sitting room, her eyes closed.

'DO YOU WANT TO POISON US GIRL!'. Vernon roared as he advanced on Flora who readied herself to be flung into the air once more.

'Vernon, Ms Figg can't take the girl… her ankle is broken and will be going to the hospital.' aunt Petunia said stiffly, having left to get the phone and only now returned.

Thankfully for Flora, Uncle Vernon turned on his heel to face away from her, looking sharply as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard from aunt Petunia. 'Can't Marge take the freak?'

'Don't be absurd Vernon, she hates the girl.'

'uh… what about your friend from that gardening club you go to?' uncle Vernon tried again.

'On vacation in Majorca' Petunia, replied with the same stiff demure…as if she wished she was on vacation in Majorca, 'we could leave her in the car.' she suggested.

'No!' Uncle Vernon cried out, 'that car is new, I will not have the freak sitting in it alone, God knows what will happen to it, we might come back and find it in bits!'

mentally Flora suggested that if they could leave her at home, she could sneak in a good amount of time to read peacefully, maybe make herself a small amount of food…

"Then there is nothing to it… we.. we'll just have to take the freak with us." Petunia said, eventually turned her cold to Flora as if she was something freshly rotten.

"Nooo!" Dudley sobbed, "she's a girl, girls are stupid and ruin everything!" Flora guessed, said through Crocodile tears. as at the moment, her airs were still ringing.

Despite Dudley's tantrums, crocodile tears, and many other attempts to get Flora removed from the trip to the zoo. Though it wasn't without warning that nothing strange, mysterious, or freakish was allowed to happen.

Flora was determined to be good this trip… Putting up with Dudley pulling at her hair along with his best friend Pairs Malcolm, both seated either side of her during the long drive to the (*1)London City Zoo. She spent a long time listening to uncle Vernon complain as he liked to do while driving.

Motorcyclist, Flora, parliament, Flora, random Pedestrians, and Flora were just a few of his favourite subjects.

After what felt like to Flora to be an extremely long and tiring journey from little whinging in Surrey to just outside the heart of London, the pulled into the car park for the London City Zoo.

As it has turned out it hadn't taken Flora very long at all to lose track of the Dursleys and Pairs Malcolm, as they walked far quicker then she could. Even with Mr Dursleyd wide, walrus-like girth and massive height to stand out with, Flora was far too short to see much of anything, only a vast moving forest of people, moving a bustling in all directions, leaving Flora feeling completely turned around, and helplessly lost.

She soon ended up in a vast hall named 'aviary'

Which held a small cafe and glass above and around forming a vast dome. With a much larger dome around it. Flora guessed there must have been a third as well because there was a large gap between where the glass started and the entrance to the building.

Walking up to the glass she found resting was a very small looking owl with brownish feathering. A nearby plank with a matching picture read

(*2) Little owl, (Athene noctua)

Also known as Minerva's owl, Little owls occur throughout mainland Europe, central Asia, and northern Africa and have been introduced into New Zealand. They are active during the day and often perch in the open. They usually nest in buildings or natural holes and eat insects and small mammals, birds, and reptiles.

Strangely to Flora, the owl seemed to be looking directly at her, despite the one way glass as if knowing she was there. It then looked away, as if it had found something more interesting to look at jumped into the air and flew off.

Flora stood still feeling lost once more. until a young-looking woman in what looked to be a green collar T-shirt arrived, and surprisingly the owl returned as well.

"Hello there," the woman said gently. "Are thy lost?" she continued.

Flora quickly went as pale as a ghost. had she done something freakish, had Vernon gotten the staff to punish her?

"There is no need to look so affright," the woman said quickly, "no one here will hurt ya, young Archimedes here came and sought me out about you."

Flora just managed to calm herself a small amount, her gaze shifting back to the small owl, who seemed in a rather playful mood when another owl approached.

"Ack! What happened to my manners, my name is Martha, I am a part-time zookeeper here, part of the team that works with animals and releases them back into the wild when they are healthy enough. Could I ask for your name?" she continued.

Flora didn't know what to do and felt cornered.

She had never shown her scar to anyone and had done her best to hide it… using her uniform collar (much to the churning of the teachers), and using her long hair.

Nervously she shifted her hair to make the long scar running down her neck visible.

She closed her eyes in preparation for what was sure to come. Though what had happened was something she hadn't expected, as she felt a warm hand being placed on her shoulder. And soft voice saying, "Everything will be alright"

Soon Flora found herself guided away, uncertain of what her future had in store.

The zookeeper Martha guided her out of the aviary, out into the summer air once more.

That is when she saw the Dursley's rather the large form of Mr Durslry lumbering his way towards the exit, with beige glimpse Dudley, Aunt Petunia, and Pairs Malcomb allowing behind.

Flora reluctantly gestured towards them, praying the zookeeper would understand.

(*3) "Thee familih be eaded fah exit?" the zookeeper asked, though Flora could look back up at her confused, as if on earth she was saying.

"Ack! There I go again, I was saying, is Your family headed for exit?"

Flora nodded again, now understanding. She started running a little as well, would the Dursleys leave her behind? She knew that they didn't like her and her freakish ways, but she knew of no other family, nor any other home.

As the car pulled out, there was a great splash sending a large spray of water towards Flora and by reflex, she closed her eyes despite her tapped up, cracked lensed, wireframe glasses

Thus it was with tears and heavy heart she watched Mr Dursley give her an evil smirk from behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking space and then out of the car park on their way back to Surrey and little whinging.

Leaving Flora standing cold and soaking wet at the empty parking space next to a large deep puddle. Not knowing what to do, she simply stood there and cried… She was on her own.

Inside Martha was fuming, growing up in her Yorkshire cottage with her mother, she had been told of such people, but she never believed she would ever witness such a heinous act being committed.

It was clear that she would have to maintain a calm and collected facade, for now, showing her true emotions would likely scare the young mute girl more than anything else.

What else had this girl endured?


*1: London City Zoo is a fictional zoo of my creation, and as far as I know does not exist in real life. Any zoo that happens to be named this in real life is strictly a coincidence of naming.

*2: information came from. Encyclopedia Britannica, however, is unverified before the use in the story and the text edited, please take it with a grain of salt (though I am 90% sure of its authenticity due to the source).

*3: I used a website to translate plain English to Yorkshire dialect. I can not account for its accuracy, nor correctness. If anyone knows the Yorkshire dialect please feel free to pm me and let me know if there is a better way to phrase the text.

Aviary: a structure for the keeping of captive birds.

Encyclopedia Britannica.