Eliza Potter And The Philosopher's Stone

Chapter One

"Elizabeth Lilly Potter!" The shrill voice of the caretaker of the orphanage jolted me out of bed. Alarm clock reads 7:00am. Crap.

As you may have heard, I'm Elizabeth, but, please swear to any gods above, to never call me that. Call me Eliza. Currently, I am late to cook breakfast for the other girls at "Miss Johnson's Orphanage For Special Girls." What's so special about us girls, you may ask?

We're orphans. That's it. I think only one of us ever had any mental illness, but Amber was adopted ages ago. But Miss Johnson pretends we're all special needs to gain more money. It's a twisted world we live in, I know.

I come down the stairs, two at a time. The third one down is creaky, and the last step has a hole in it, which was created by Antoinette's weight. I know, her name's more proper than mine.

"What took you so long?" Miss Johnson snarled. She was a stalky woman with a bulbous nose and beady little gray eyes that pierce most people's souls. Not mine, at least. All I see is a money-hungry woman taking advantage of a group of orphans to feed her greed.

"I slept through my alarm." Slap. She hit me hard, leaving a large red mark on my cheek.

"Maybe that will scar like that horrendous one on your collor bone." She sneered as I did not show I was in pain. Sometimes courage needs no words. "Now go fix the good girls' breakfast, and you will not eat until tomorrow."

My stomach growled in protest, but I only complied because I would probably be hurt again. I curse the woman in my head, calling her quite a few mean things internally. I walk into the kitchen, and start the breakfast everyone else will eat.

I dare not sneak a bite, something I learned the hard way when I was only eight. My birthday's tomorrow, but no gifts came, nor will they come on Christmas. The days every kid looks forward to the most are the least important to me.

I do not know much about my parents except for the small locket I had around my neck. And I swear that I see them moving every time I look in it. I think I may be a bit mad, but they smile and wave at me, cry with me, and blow kisses.

I inherited it all from Mum. She had the stunning red hair, freckles, and piercing green eyes, while my dad had scraggly black hair and glasses. He had somewhat of a boyish charm to him, and I understand why my Mum fell for him.

I finish the bacon and eggs just as the other girls all sat themselves in the kitchen.  Antoinette was a large girl with perfect blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I was not jealous. I placed down plates for everyone, and grabbed the pitcher of orange juice, placing it in the center of the table.

Just as I was going to head back to my room, I heard Antoinette sneer in her friend's, Alice's, ear. "Little Miss Hothead got in trouble again. Don't know why Miss Johnson doesn't just kick her to the streets."

I feel tears prick my eyes as I exit the dining room. "No crying, or no dinner tomorrow either." Miss Johnson snarled at me, and so I just whipe the tears. Be brave, my little flame. Those were the only words I ever heard of my mother.

A loud knock at the door made me jump. "Well, aren't you going to open it?" Miss Johnson asked, her sharp stare gazing right into my emerald eyes.

I quickly open the door, and find the tallest man I have ever seen in my life. He had a scraggly, long black beard that covered all but his eyes, which were alight with anger. I hold his angry gaze, but it softened at the sight of me.