-No one is ever the villain of their own story- Cassandra Clare.

Lenna stared at the dusty roof of the dank cupboard she layed in. A patchy blanked was strewn over the mattress her aunt had strategically placed on top of a few boxes she had dug out. It wasn't cold, or at least she didn't think it was. She had never been good at telling if it's cold or warm, numbness claimed her for most of the day.

It was dark but she had memorized the entirety of her prison enough to be able to picture it in her mind; the shelves filled with objects the remnants of her family had placed in there- buckets and cans, the few toys they had been given stood lined up, the small lamp that had been mounted besides him, the cracks in the creamy white paint, the fragile door that had been kicked one too many times and the dusty ceiling she spent hours watching. Still she felt nothing when she looked at it. Nothing as the seconds ticked on and the outside world kept spinning while she was stuck. Nothing even as her brother was treated better than her, nothing when her family pointed out that she looked nothing like either of them.

Lenna Potter, sister of Harry Potter, niece of Petunia Dursley, cousin of Dudley Dursley, numb to all. She looked nothing like her brother, nor her mother or father. She wasn't short or tall, her hair wasn't like fire or the messy black hair of her father (and brother), or the green eyes of her mother. Lenna had eyes that were an uncomfortable pure blue, like none of her relatives, or even neighbors. Her hair was long, jet black and straight. Her face was pale, paler than a ghost, almost unnaturally so, and symmetrical. Her cheekbones were high and defined, in a femenine kind of way. No, Lenna looked nothing like her relatives, but she didn't care.

She didn't know how many hours she had slept that night. Lenna found that she didn't need much sleep, not close to how much the rest of the humans seemed to need. Instead she had to spend the rest of the hours awake in the cupboard thinking, learning and staring. It was a special day today, for her cousin that is, for Lenna it was just like any other day. A birthday was a birthday, not that she understood what the fuss about growing older was about, nor the value of receiving gifts from loved ones. Lenna had never gotten that so that had to mean that it wasn't that important and that she wasn't missing out.

"Go back to sleep, Lennie." Her brother muttered and stole some more of the blanket in one greedy pull of his thin, bony hands.

Lenna didn't answer him, not even acknowledging the fact that her brother had talked to her. It was like his voice was far away, muffled by rain and glass. Did he want a response? Was she expected to give him one? Lenna had no interest in talking, so she didn't. Why would she?

The young girl pulled at a loose piece of skin on her thumb before letting her hands limply fall by her hands again as she stared at the ceiling, or rather into the darkness. It was comforting to stare into the darkness, darkness was comforting to Lenna. Something that had always been there for her, something as numb as she was feeling. It hid things from her but if she wanted to she could force the shadows away and find it.

Her brother sighed and sat up. "I mean it. Dudley is going to be up soon and you know how he gets on his birthdays."

Lenna blinked slowly, imagining the way her brother was squinting in the darkness, eyes void of glasses and movements sluggish with sleep. Did he expect her to sleep? After all this time? No, she had slept. Dudley, her cousin, was an ill-mannered child that had been coddled so much by his parents he expected to receive the world, and more, on a silver platter when he asked for it. She wondered how it felt to want something, how it felt to want something so badly it angered you. Lenna had never wanted anything materialistic, and what she wanted no one but her could give her- knowledge. Sometimes her thirst for knowledge was all she felt. Rarely did she feel hungry, thirsty or tired, but she didn't mind.

A sliver of yellow light peeked at her from under the door. The only light in her darkness, a light that bothered the comfortable state she was in. Still, the light meant that she would soon be out of the way-too-small room she had claimed as her bedroom, and into the rest of the house. Lenna wasn't looking forward to it, but she didn't mind it happening. Getting out of the room meant that she could hunt for knowledge that her family refused to give, it meant that she could do the few things that made her feel.

Strange things happened around her. Glasses would disappear, things would levitate, snakes would speak to her and objects would break. She has found that sometimes she could control the strange things, that she could sometimes even do them on her own free will. Those things made her feel, using what could only be described as magic, made her feel something. One could imagine why she would try to do it as much as possible.

Her uncle Vernon told her magic didn't exist, but magic was as real as he was. Was anything in the world real? If horrible people like him could exist then so should magic- a way for her to fight back.

"Are you still thinking about that?" Her brother asked her, having temporarily given up on sleep.

Lenna scratched her nose. "No." She answered truthfully and blankly. Why would she? Strange things happened to her all the time; if she was to think about each and everyone of them that would be all she did. No, she was not still thinking about that.

Harry huffed. "How did you make those chairs move anyways?"

"I don't know." She lied perfectly through her teeth. Lenna knew how. She wanted them to move, and they did. She wanted the chairs to hit the boys, and they did. Magic came easily to her, much more than it did her brother who had only had one or two accidents with it- both being blamed on her and without him actually realising it. Lenna didn't feel anything after their words, only the need to hurt them; a feeling akin to anger but still numb.

"You're weird." He bluntly stated and a few minutes passed before Lenna heard he had gone back to sleep.

"I know." She whispered and turned her head to the side. Exhaustion hit her but never did sleep try to claim her even as she felt like she had no energy. A constant lack of energy that could never be charged, a constant need for sleep that could never be quenched.