Chapter One
She sat quietly on the cool, bright blue leather swing, her fingers in her lap when most families were safely tucked away in their houses of Little Whinging, Surrey.
She was a small, malnourished child of only eight.
Her long, obsidian hair cascaded down her back to where it was past the swing but not on the pebbles that made up the terrain of the playground. Her head was tilted down, so one could not see her features that well. Other than the fact that she would have to push her glasses up over her nose in order to keep them on her face, she didn't move that much. There were no tears that were falling down her face, from her green orbs that could have been brighter and livelier if it weren't for what life had dealt for her in the short time that she had been on this earth.
She was all bones, there wasn't much skin to her at all and what skin there was would most of the time be dirtied, bruised and devoid of any true color to it other than the color of bone marrow.
She was malnourished in the extreme, and she had a shortened stunt growth. She would never be as tall as the other girls around her in Year 3. She wasn't that important; she knew she wasn't that important.
If she were important or someone cared about her, if someone made the effort to be her friend, then maybe she wouldn't be in the state she was. She was already eight and she didn't have any friends at all, other girls were invited to sleepovers, but she had merely been pitied and looked at as though she was a freak. She wasn't supposed to even be here.
She brought her head up, her green eyes landing on the black cat that was making its way towards her, its tail twirling behind it easily. She named him Mr. Grimm, since he reminded her of those brothers that collected children's stories from all over the world. They were a little dark, nothing that you would find appropriate for a child to read. They'd rather a child watch the Disney version of the fairytales, but the girl enjoyed the macabre versions.
"Mr. Grimm! I hope you know that you are running late," the girl remarked, shaking her head to and fro in a playful manner. Her eyes twinkled some to him, letting everyone around her get a glimpse of a happy child instead of one who was severely depressed.
The cat meowed in a pitiful manner towards the girl, and she gave him a stern look. He made sure that he tilted his chin up perfectly and for the streetlights around them hit his large gray eyes perfectly. He almost seemed to be smirking, but cats couldn't smirk. Only humans could.
The cat jumped up and landed in her lap, enough for her to bring one of her hands up and run it through his coat. He purred quite contently, allowing her to know he was glad she was pampering him. Maybe she pampered him too much, maybe it was because he was her only friend even though he was a cat and couldn't be a person.
"Mr. Grimm…I did it again. Aunt Petunia was visiting her friend, Vyonne and Uncle Vernon was at work…I don't like it when that happens. Dudley dragged me by my hair across the floor…he pulled so hard that some pieces fell out and my head started to bleed. He said that he saw Uncle Vernon doing something with one of the women in the neighborhood…–"
Before the girl could continue, as her voice had become wobbly and she remembered the odd glint that was in her cousin's eyes, the cat hissed loudly and sliced her arms from its sharp claws. The cat jumped off of her and she cried even more at the sudden pain.
"Mr. Grimm! Why did you hurt me? Are you upset?"
She frowned even more, her lips quivering as Mr. Grimm rushed off in the distance.
She wanted to throw a pebble from the ground at him, tell him to not come back yet she knew there had to be a reason why Mr. Grimm had done that. He had never hurt her before, yet something in him seemed to snap for him to get angry when she was telling him that Dudley had gone to do something that was not good, only for Aunt Petunia to come wandering into the house with her phone in her hand, rattling off something to Uncle Vernon about plans for dinner (dinner that the girl would end up making since she was in charge of chores and everything else in this house).
She sighed as she got up from her spot on the playground and went in the direction of where Privet Drive was, Number 4.
That was the house that was her prison, the house she had mysteriously been left on the front porch in a basket when she was only fifteen months old, shortly after her parents had died in a car wreck because her daddy had been drinking while driving and her mother was still affected by the drugs she had taken. She didn't know what drugs really were, she had heard about them being bad, but she knew what alcohol could be like…she dealt with Uncle Vernon in his sour moods whenever he came home from work in a bad mood and drank whisky.
Reaching the house, the girl took a deep breath as she smoothed down her wrinkled oversized t-shirt that fell to her knees. Her knobby knees. The pair of shorts she was wearing had the top rolled up so she wouldn't have to be pulling it back up to fit properly on her thin hips. The sleeves were short, when it came to her arms so she knew she would get in trouble with having scratches all over her arms (thankfully Aunt Petunia knew she couldn't hurt her with the whipping stick she always kept around due to her already having cuts on her).
The front door opened, and she was yanked into the front room of the house.
Uncle Vernon was sitting in his leather recliner, the bottom popped open so he could stretch out his legs. He had his glass of whisky in his hand, the ice clicking against the inside of the glass. The amber liquid was on display from the floor lamp next to the recliner. The bulging man had changed out of his work clothes and was in his evening clothes, his bowling ball size made her wonder how the recliner could even support all the weight he had. His walrus mustache twitched as he saw her in the corner of his eye, as though he was almost challenging her to say something.
"Get in the cupboard. Whore-tensia. No food or water tonight, wait…what's that?"
Hortensia felt her eyes begin to water from the derogatory nickname she had been given.
She hated her name, immensely, especially when her aunt would pronounce it the way she did.
She might not know a lot, but she did know what a whore was!
She was not a whore!
She was a little girl who was hurting, who had never done things inappropriately with others. She never touched people, so how could she be called something like that?
Aunt Petunia was an ugly, ugly woman.
She had very pinched features, reminding someone of a scarecrow.
Her hair was not a pretty shade of blonde, nothing to be envious about.
Not even a shade of blonde that women would go to the beauty salons to have.
Her neck was a little too long for her body, and her eyes were an ugly watery blue. She wore horrible makeup that clashed with her skin tone, never wore clothes that flattered her. Overall, she was as ugly on the inside and as ugly on the outside.
She suited her husband perfectly in personality and in features.
Yet when she pulled her long, bony hands away from her niece's arms, she widened those watery blue eyes of hers and growled when her hands were covered with blood. She looked down at the arms that were in front of her, noting how there were scratches on them.
Scratches from a cat.
It was most likely that Mr. Grimm had gotten angry at her and cut her.
The cat had been following Hortensia around since she had turned five.
The woman immediately thought to put poisoned cat food outside on the front porch to entice the cat, but she didn't want to deal with the dead corpse of a cat. Her husband could take care of it for her…if she really put her mind into the plan.
Hortensia flinched as her aunt commanded her to stay where she was before she went away.
The girl let her eyes flicker over to where Uncle Vernon was, and then to the television set that was one of the latest models to come out. There was nothing on the television screen that really caught her attention, she could barely even read to begin with. It took her forever to learn the alphabet, learning at the last minute before she started her schooling.
She didn't know where Dudley was, he was probably upstairs in his second bedroom where all his toys were. His friends weren't over, which was a good thing, she didn't like how the boys would look at her with an uncomfortable excitement to them. She hoped that they wouldn't want to do the same thing that Dudley had wanted to do earlier this morning to her, thankfully Aunt Petunia unknowingly saved her from being molested by Dudley.
She stayed as still as possible, afraid if she even blinked too many times or breathed too hard, she would have the whipping stick upon her within a matter of seconds. She didn't have to wait long, because her aunt appeared a moment later. She did the bare minimum of making sure there would be no infection that would appear upon her skin, though she did pour too much rubbing alcohol on her as though to teach her a lesson (Hortensia was strong, she didn't even flinch when the rubbing alcohol was poured into her open wounds), and then medical gauze was wrapped around her arms.
Shoved into the small cupboard under the stairs, Hortensia stumbled before she landed on the lumpy, twin sized mattress that had been cramped into the cupboard. There were a multitude of cobwebs and dust bunnies that covered the floor and the walls around her. There was a single hanging light bulb that she could only keep on for so long or else her aunt and uncle would confiscate it from her (that was a way to associate complete darkness with punishment).
She reached under the mattress to the photograph Mr. Grimm had gifted her.
She had been more than thrilled at seeing the beautiful couple that were in the black and white photograph.
A photograph that moved!
No matter how many times Hortensia would accidentally cause Dudley to lose his eyebrows and hair on his head, no matter how many times she would get anxious and break her aunt's favorite China tea cups when she was drinking hot tea from them in her hands, and no matter how many times she could make her pencil stick straight up and move circular when she was doing homework in the cupboard, she would never lose her love for magic.
There were two people that were in the photograph.
A woman on the right side and a man on the left.
The woman was one of the tallest women Hortensia swore she would ever see.
She had a large mass of black curls that were pulled up in a tight bun on her head, with a bunch of hair jewel chains draped throughout it. She was insanely pale and had the right number of curves to her body that one would take a second look for. Her eyebrows were thicker for a woman but were shaped perfectly and brought a unique spin to the woman. Her eyes were medium sized, neither too big nor too small, and were some of the darkest eyes Hortensia knew she would ever see. Her lips were plump and dark, most likely they were crimson in actual color. She had on a skintight dress that had a half turtleneck to it, with jeweled buttons going horizontal across the top of the dress, while a cloak was sewn upon the top of the dress, and a belt was wrapped around the middle–there was a magical snake that was slithering in a circle around the belt. Most of all, the woman had a protruding, pregnant belly, and she had her hands placed upon her stomach, all of her fingers were covered in rings.
The man on the other hand reminded Hortensia of a dark prince.
He had nicely tucked and groomed obsidian hair, not a piece fallen out of place. His cheekbones and face structure were strong, sharp, and the utmost aristocratic. He wore black masculine robes over a black button up silk shirt that had a jewel sewn into the middle of his neckline. There were black dress pants and onyx oxford shoes. He had every single finger of his covered with a ring, just like the woman.
Hortensia didn't know who the couple were, but she felt a connection to them.
She liked how they were standing in front of two thrones and the woman would look up at the man as though he hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Her whole essence was dangerous, as though she knew how to rule the world and anyone who would try and get in the way would be crushed into dust. The man had a calmness to him, composure though his eyes would flicker down to the woman's stomach, for a split second there was warmth before the mask of indifference would appear once more.
Hortensia sighed as she hugged the photograph to her, wondering what the names of this couple were. She knew they weren't her parents. She had known that her mommy apparently had red hair and green eyes, and her daddy had darker tan skin with the circular glasses she was currently wearing. Their names were Lily and James Potter.
She did wonder how Mr. Grimm had found the picture.
Maybe he was magical, and though he couldn't turn into a human he could be owned by a wizard. Hortensia hoped this was the case. She hoped that Mr. Grimm was indeed owned by a wizard, because there was a possibility that she could be rescued by his owner. She could be somewhere that was better than where she currently was, she could be somewhere that would be a real home to her.
Eventually, the time came where it was time for her aunt and uncle to go to bed.
She quietly laid on her side, her head resting against the uncomfortable pillow that had been given to her. She knew it was one of the old pillows they owned, and they had given it to her when they would replace the pillows. There was a small blanket that covered her, there were holes that were in the blanket from moths eating at it. It would do nothing when it came to keeping her warm.
The next morning, she woke with dark circles still underneath her eyes.
She wanted to yawn but she knew if she did, she would upset Aunt Petunia more than she had last night. She smoothed down her clothes and entered the kitchen, where she pulled out the ingredients for breakfast from the fridge. She could feel the eyes of her said aunt behind her back, observing her and making sure that she would do exactly what she was supposed to do without making any mistakes.
As she made the breakfast on the stove, Hortensia could feel the cold eyes of her cousin on her. Her heart raced in her chest as she tightened her hand on the spatula that was flipping the bacon. She didn't want to be alone with him again. She feared he would finish what he wanted to start. She knew it would be something that would traumatize her for the rest of her life.
Once she was finished with making breakfast she went over to where her family was waiting at the kitchen circular table. She put the right amount of food on each plate before she went over to where the kitchen sink was. She scraped off what leftover food was on the plates before plugging the sink and putting some cleaning soap into the pans. She started the hot water and waited for the water to fill up, so she could let the plates sit for a while before she would clean them off.
Heading over to where the corner of the kitchen she normally stood in, Hortensia hooked her hands together behind her back and waited patiently for her aunt and uncle to get ready for the day. Dudley had already gotten up from the table and rushed upstairs, she was certain that he was getting dressed in his day clothes so he could hang out with his friends. She could only hope the boy wouldn't bring his friends with him back to the house, there would be no place for her to hide.
"Girl, the flower beds in the front and back of the house need to be taken care of. Pull out all the weeds that are there, but don't ruin any of the flowers," Uncle Vernon grunted from where he was sitting, again Hortensia wondered how any furniture her uncle sat on didn't break from underneath him due to his obesity.
"Of course, Uncle Vernon."
Uncle Vernon grunted a response, and she observed him get up from the kitchen chair and head out of the kitchen. She turned her eyes towards Aunt Petunia, who was going over to where her tea box was in order to make her favorite cup of tea. The tall and bird-like woman scowled at Hortensia, as though she remembered her face and how she was having her day ruined by having the girl still in the room with her. She didn't say anything, instead started to make her tea.
Hortensia finished doing the dishes and put them away, before she went outside in the front yard.
She knew at the end of the day her pale skin would become even redder.
She knew she would have more burns on her skin.
She had her long black hair causing sweat down her back, but Aunt Petunia never allowed her to tie her hair up in a ponytail, nor did she have the ability to have her hair braided down her back.
There was also the fact that whenever she would get upset around her aunt and uncle, along with her cousin, her hair would begin to start floating around her.
It kind of terrified her to be honest, how her hair seemed to act on its own.
She wondered if her hair was magical, and though she never said the M word around her family members, she liked to imagine she could have magical hair like Rapunzel did.
It would be so wonderful to have hair that could heal.
It would make having this hair of hers that would never seem to want to be cut to a shorter length a lot easier. She could put her hair onto her cuts and her bruises and the next moment she wouldn't have to deal with having them lasting. Her scars wouldn't exist on her spine, nor did want to think of the scars that were on the back of her thighs or on her arms.
Going outside into the backyard first, Hortensia crouched down in front of the flower beds, annoyed at how there were no new weeds that were in the flower garden. The flowers were in pristine condition, there was no need for her to be digging around in the dirt. So instead grabbed the watering can and made sure to water the flowers, though not too much, because the last thing she needed was to have her aunt grab her whipping stick to punish her for drowning the flowers and killing them.
"I wonder where Mr. Grimm is…I miss him."
She went to the back gate, knowing she didn't want to trek any type of dirt into the house, and opened it only for her to see Mr. Grimm sitting patiently in front of on the other side of the gate.
Without hesitation she dropped onto the ground and wrapped her arms around him, thankful once again that she hadn't gotten any new scarring or bruising. Mr. Grimm had somehow inadvertently kept her from getting hurt, just by giving her a few scratches when he ran away from her. It made her cherish him even more, even if it meant she had to put him in a bad mood to avoid the wrath of her aunt.
"I…I…"
Hortensia didn't know what to say, and Mr. Grimm waited patiently for what she would say, only she didn't have the chance to say anything.
Aunt Petunia slammed the screen door to the back door of the house. Hortensia was frozen, in fear, as she imagined that her aunt was going to drag her by the back of her shirt and beat her within an inch of her life inside. No one would care about her dying, other than Mr. Grimm but even then…Mr. Grimm was a cat.
"Oh…I wish you were like in the picture you gave me…magical," Hortensia whispered, fearing that if she spoke any louder her aunt would hear her say the M word and she would get in trouble even worse. She didn't expect though for the cat to shift in her arms.
One moment Hortensia was holding onto Mr. Grimm and the next moment the cat transformed into a young man that looked related to the woman in the picture.
He was tall, and had sharp aristocratic cheekbones, deep silver eyes that were framed by thick eyelashes. His eyebrows were groomed to perfection, his nose was long but neither too small nor too large, perfect on his face. His obsidian hair was slightly wavy and fell around the nape of his neck. He was muscular, but lean, and was wearing similar masculine robes as the man in the picture. There were plenty of rings that were on each finger of his, and the pale man scooped up Hortensia in his arms. She snuggled into his hold, knowing immediately that this was Mr. Grimm.
Aunt Petunia's face drained of any color there was, before she looked around her nervously, expecting one of her neighbors to be looking into the backyard. One of her hands reached up and covered her chest, where her heart was, it was thumping wildly and for a moment it seemed like she would go into cardiac arrest just by seeing the man in front of her.
"I've come to collect my goddaughter. Move and you'll regret it," the man vowed, as he reached into one of the pockets of his robes and pulled out an actual wand. Hortensia's eyes widened at the sight of the wand, at the fact that he really was a wizard!
"Y-You can't have her…he said–"
"I don't care what he said. You're not her real family. I'm her real family, besides you are a despicable human being. The last thing that you need to be is the one making demands. As I said before, I'm leaving. Contact him if you wish, it won't change anything," the man added, and without even thinking Hortensia shivered some from the chilly tone in the man's voice.
Then, slowly but surely, Aunt Petunia…should she still call her Aunt Petunia? She wasn't her real aunt, if what this man was saying was correct. He was her real family…he was here, and he was going to rescue her from these bad people. She was moving backwards.
Hortensia knew Mr. Grimm was one of the best friends she could ever ask for! She knew there was something special about him, something magical! He was her knight in shining armor! He was going to protect her and love her.
The man shushed her, in a gentle and sweet manner, before pressing a fatherly kiss on the top of her head. She tuned out anything else that was happening between the horrid woman and her godfather. She instead nestled her head against his chest and listened to his heart beating, her own racing at the fact that she was free now. She didn't know who they were talking about, but her godfather was going to protect her from him too!
She felt him moving, and she almost fell asleep in his arms when they reached where they were meant to be. She slowly pulled away from his chest and peered up at the man, noting how he was one of the prettiest boys she had ever seen. She reached her hand up and touched his cheekbone, feeling no prickles of facial hair. She instead felt warmth of flesh, she could feel how he was really, really here. She could feel him breathing as he had her hooked around his hip as though she was the same five-year-old he had met all those years ago.
"Y-You're gonna take me to my real family? Will I be safe?"
The man chuckled some before nodding, "of course. Now, I'm about to do something called Apparition. It's going to take us from here to the rest of our family waiting for us. It's going to feel funny, but it will be over quickly. Do you trust me?"
It was a silly question, of course Hortensia trusted Mr. Grimm.
He had always protected and loved her. Ignoring him scratching her yesterday, he had never hurt her. She felt safer with him than she ever felt with anyone else her whole life.
"Yes, Mr. Grimm. Please, take me home."
Hortensia leaned her head back against his chest, and together they disappeared, leaving Privet Drive for good.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had posted a really short and kind of lame 'prologue' in another posting and decided to create a remedy of this. If you haven't read the warnings in the last author's note in the original posting, I'll write below and add a few things:
1. Regulus and Sirius Black are Married, so yes two brothers are married together. You'll find out how society views their marriage due to them both being males and unable to produce a blood child (unless through blood adoption), but even then...anyway, you'll find out how the society works.
2. I was going to name him Mr. Midnight but then it reminded me of the video game Fran Bow, and I couldn't imagine myself naming Regulus the same name as Fran did with her cat. So instead, I did a spin of the Grimm Brothers. You'll find out that the Grimm Brothers are actually really important in the wizarding world.
3. Voldemort had a different plan in the beginning, a better and peaceful plan, but over the years went crazy. Bellatrix will be different in this fanfiction, still blood thirsty, but she won't be insane. So, they will be acting differently than in cannon. Same as with the Malfoys, they are nice people.
4. Manipulative Dumbledore, depending on how the story goes you'll think of him as either misguided or evil. I honestly don't know; I'm going with the flow with this story. So that also means Manipulated Order of the Phoenix Members. Manipulated Weasleys, so this isn't meant to be a 'bashing Weasleys just because', there's an actual reasoning behind their behavior due to Dumbledore.
5. The themes of the purebloods are loosely based off of different pureblood etiquette fanfictions that I've read over the years. I am not, in any way, claiming them as my own. The fanfiction writer that makes really good pureblood etiquette fanfictions is Ellory. I'm adding my own spin to Hair Lore, having forgotten that in some cultures and religions hair is very important. Along with a female witch shall never show off too much skin, and so on and so forth (that's my spin too), which also goes into how I display Magic.
There will be different sexualities in the story, but for Hortensia she will be straight.
anyway, thanks for putting up with this author's note. You'll find out Hortensia's real name in the next chapter, and she'll consider herself as her real name since she never felt like a Hortensia.
as always: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.
-it'semmynotemma