The Forgotten One - a Hogwarts story

01

Matron's heels could be heard clicking down hallway 13 from the reception. It was dead silent down the corridor and not even a rat could pass through without its squeaks being illuminated by the chilly concrete walls. The way the orphanage was built was that corridor 13 would be completely separate from the rest of the children's rooms, almost like the founders knew something horrible would be residing. Almost like they knew that Wools Orphanage would hold hostage to powerful beings.

After several drawn-out minutes, Matron's rhythmic steps came to a pause as she reached a large metal door. With one arm raised above her head holding a large rusty candle lamp, little flickers of warm orange was reflected down as she fished around her apron pocket for the key. Mary was the only staff that had the nerve to walk down corridor 13, but the being that was securely trapped inside the room at the end will only ever know her as 'Matron'. She was a pudgy woman with blond hair that was tied tightly in a knot at the back of her head, little threads of grey laced themselves through her thin strands and bit at her ugly skin. she had a rather evil glint in her eyes as her fat fingers pulled out the key and pushed it forcefully into the rotting lock. She stood still for a minute composing herself, she dusted off her small black plimsolls and pulled up her sheer white tights, although without looking carefully they would be easily mistaken as her short fat legs. Her black skirt ran down until just below her knees and carried itself up to her neck, tied so tightly it would take dozens of men to take it off if she didn't do it herself.

With a huff of annoyance she turned the key in the door and with quite might pushed the heavy metal door ajar so she could enter the dingy room. The door propped itself half open as it could not rest against the back wall, the large sharp spikes that were screwed into the back of the door prevented most mobility. The room was very dingy and a ratchet smell leaked into the corridor from the overwhelmingly stuffy room. There was only a small amount of light trickling in from the cracks in the brick walls that sat very close together, presenting small segments of the room.

It was about as big as an office although it more resembled a jail cell. The floor was caked in so much dirty and grime over years of mistreatment that the Matron's shoes squelched a little as she stepped in. She took one whiff of the room and gagged, having to hold herself up against the gammy brick walls to stop her short self from toppling over, she acted like she had been punched in the gut. Matron quickly regretted that action as she lifted her hand off the wall and long strands of a sticky, rather smelly, red brown substance wedged itself between her sausage fingers.

"I thought I told you to scrub this?" she bellowed, and if she didn't know otherwise Matron may have believed the room was empty.

She cast her eyes around the room squinting and eyebrows furrowed tightly highlighting years of stress and anger etched in wrinkles across her large forehead. Anger rising, she spotted the small thing curled up in a pile of old clothes, as no mattress would ever sit on the dirty floor.

"Get up." Matron snarled, staying where she was, frankly disgusted to move, she hadn't been in here for nearly a week and it was an absolute state when she left after punishment so only God could guess what lurked in the shadows a mere six days later. "I said up. Now!" she bellowed once more, her voice raised a tad and hands in fists at her sides. The clothe piles simply shuffled slightly, a weak groan rattled through the room which made Matron's blood boil.

With three easy steps she quickly made her way over to the disgraceful being that remained where it was and huffed out angrily and she bent over and seized the frail arm that stuck out of the grubby night dress. A strained whimper of pain echoed around the room as Matron harshly ripped the lanky thing that was attached to the bony arm up out of her cocoon and towards the door. She continued to ignore the string of apologies that came pathetically from the beings mouth.

Once they reached the end of the corridor, she had to remind the thing to pick her bare scratched feet up off the floor numerous times, her patience wearing dangerously thin. She turned a harsh left, dragging the useless waste of space behind her while continuing to complain how she would have to scrub her hands and arms because of how ridiculously dirty that thing was.

"Hurry up," she spat as she flung the thing into the small shower room, "you have someone here for you, if you're not out in ten minutes then I'll tell him to leave." She shut the heavy door behind her not even flicking on the light and locked it, checking it to make sure the creature couldn't escape and wreck more havoc on the poor children that had to share the building.