Chapter 1 – 'Everyone knows/Nobody cares'

When she was much younger, she thought that being obedient and quiet will spare her suffering. But, like any other stupid dream she cherished in her mind, it didn't come true. No one came to rescue, because no one cared. Pretty gruesome deduction for a four-year-old.

'How long can it take to make breakfast, Freak?!' her aunt's shriek brought her back to the task at hand. She flipped the last pancake over and took huge bottle of orange juice out of the fridge. Moving as fast as she was capable of, she set the table in the living room. It wasn't an easy task as Fatty-Dudley was trying to trip her up.

The sound of morning mail falling through the slot and landing on the flour caught everyone's attention. 'What are you waiting for? Run and bring my mail you stupid girl,' Vernon Dursley yelled at her, even though she was standing two feet away. Sometimes she wondered why she didn't lose her hearing after spending last ten years in this house.

Usually, taking care of mail wasn't an exciting event. She did it every day, like another billion of her chords. Although, as she was looking over the pile of paper, she stumbled across something unusual. Thin, ink written and scratched letter was addressed to Ms Hope Lilly Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs. She stopped in the hallway. Her attempt to hide the letter in the pocket of her shabby trousers was interrupted by Dudley's hand on her wrist.

'Dad! Stupid Freak got a letter!', he ripped it off her hand and run to the living room. When she stood in the doorway, Vernon and Petunia were carefully investigating the source of nuisance. "It belongs to me,' she whispered with resignation. As expected, her voice of objection went unnoticed. 'Don't burden your little brain with this, Freak. It's clearly a mistake. I'll take care of our little package here. Unless…', Vernon paused maliciously. She knew that what followed will bring her only more nightmares. 'Come to my office after diner. We will have a little… chat about your dedication and obedience. Now, get out of my sight.'

Vernon Dudley's office was actually a cramped and cluttered room adjacent to a bedroom, that belonged to him and his wife. Hope was taking the stairs, legs shaking. She didn't eat all day and felt extremely dizzy. 'It has its advantages,' she thought dimly. "There was less risk of vomiting after…". She shut her eyes and tried to focus on something else. When she reached her destination, she stood straight and knocked the door lightly. Sharp voice commanded her to enter and so she did. Her uncle was sitting on a huge armchair, pretending to search through several piles of documents or whatsoever. He frowned, his face sweaty and red. The smell of this room was imprinted in her brain. It made her sick, just thinking about it. It surrounded her now with full force and her tummy began to rumble.

'Don't just stand there like a retard. Close the door and come here,' Vernon barked, unzipping his enormous trousers. She did as she was told. It was inevitable.

Brushing her teeth, she looked in the mirror. The face that looked back at her was sunken and greyish. Her bright blue eyes were dark circled and clouded. Her hair, tangled mass of blond locks with hints of ginger, were reaching her backside. Petunia tried many times to get rid of them, but they grew like mad. She gave up after Hope reached the age of six. 'I look like a wraith', the girl thought glumly.

It all started when she was four years old. He came at night, when she was sleeping. At the beginning, she screamed and tried to fight. Later on, she learned that there was no use to objection. It only brought her more wounds and pain. As she got older, he started to use their "conversations" as a bargain. If she wanted something, she had to comply. Books, permission for taking part in a school trip to London or getting a slice of Dudley's birthday cake. Trivial things, but ones that were the only source of joy in her twisted childhood. She knew that she was a victim of sexual abuse as soon as she learned that phrase. Still, there was nothing she could do. She was an orphan living in a small town. Literal nobody.

Hope had always wondered why Petunia let that all happen under her nose. She knew, for certain. You must know that you're married to a monster. No one is that delusional. The girl was old enough to understand that her aunt chose to not see it. She traded that blindness for financial stability and pretence of a perfect family. That, and she also hated her to the guts. Hope knew it as long as she remember. She thought that it was genetically inherited from her parents. Mrs and Mr Potter were loathed by her caregivers. One could assume that they were some kind of mass murderers or whatnot. The worst thing they did, however, was that they died, leaving Dursleys with an utmost imposition of raising her – their only child.

Focusing back at the real world around her, Hope went back to her cupboard. Using small flashlight that kept her company throughout countless nights, she tried to read the letter addressed in such bizarre way. The envelope was already open, just as she expected. Her uncle relished in control and this was another way to humiliate her and violate her privacy. She kept reading in disbelief about wands, cauldrons and magic schools. She decided that this piece of rubbish was not worth her sacrifice. She turned off the flashlight and fell to restless sleep.

AN: This chapter is relatively short, because I think of it as a kind of prologue. Next chapters will definitely be much longer. Chapter 2 will appear very soon. Please let me know what you think in the comment section. Stay safe and take care XOXOXO