The Girl Who Lived

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except for a few non-canon characters to be introduced later. All of the paraphrased or direct quotes are from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, text copyright 1997 by J.K. Rowling.

Some lines and dialogues of this book had been originally taken from Child of Grace ​​​​​: on fanfiction.net. This book contains a band of different characters, theme and plot. I don't own anything except my reworking ideas on Harry Potter fandom~    
 

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Thunder resounded in the distance as light flashed across the sky. Torrents of rain poured to the muddy ground, and the sounds of it echoed through the neighbourhood. There was another crackle of lightning. A dog barked nearby, but it did so more from terror than anything else. Darkness shrouded everything, the street lamps barely giving any light.

Had anyone been looking outside, they wouldn't have been able to see anything except the torrents of rain.

A young girl of no more than eleven knelt in front of a window, trying to look in outside. Her long, black messy hair hung about her like waves in the sand, gently brushing her bony shoulders. Her skin was white, almost translucent, veins clearly visible. It prickled in the damp cold as she shivered and pulled her frayed dress around herself, but it did little to block out the cold from her thin body.

Inside the house, the light glowed from numerous lamps, casting friendly shadows on the walls and floor. A large, square table sat in the middle of a neat and tidy dining room. It was stacked with countless plates, all of them steaming and warm. A family was sitting down for a delicious looking supper.

The father was a portly man with a beet-red face and no noticeable neck. The mother was tall, slender but healthy looking. She had twice the normal amount of neck and was horse-faced with enormous teeth. The son, though quite young, was round and seemed to be well on his way to taking up an entire side of the table.

The girl's green eyes watched as the mother carried a large plate of roast to the table, which was almost completely filled with the other dishes. Steaming potatoes and carrots were placed on either side and were soon joined by a few other things. Chapped lips were licked at the sight of the meal, and the girl's breath steamed the clear glass of the window as she moved closer. A small, dirty hand cautiously wiped the surface clean so that she could get a better look, even as her mouth moved in a whispered prayer.

Within the house, the mother smacked a naughty hand away from the feast. Her son scowled at her and rubbed his now tender fingers. The father roared with laughter at the antics of the pair and took a sip of the wine in his glass. He beamed proudly at his son, while the mother eyed her child, but the tips of her mouth turned up with a hint of approval. Her hand touched his podgy cheek as the other rubbed his hurt fingers. She leaned down and kissed him lovingly, just as he tried to move away with a scowl etched on his heavy features. Mr and Mrs Dursley always took pride in having the best child in the world, Dudley as their son.

Outside, hungry, drenched eyes watched the entire scene, and the girl lifted a slender hand to gently wipe off her eyes Her fingers rubbed the swollen face, carefully avoiding the purpling flesh near her puffy eye. A small sigh escaped her, and she licked her lips as her teeth began to chatter.

The rain picked up its tempo, and the sound of it hitting the sodden ground grew louder. The shadows increased as it became even hazier, the street lamps not even visible anymore. A distinctive chill saturated the air, even as a slight warmth radiated from the house. The tiny girl cuddled closer to the windowsill in an attempt to steal some of the heat, but it didn't seem to be working.

The family began to pass around dishes, piling their plates with food. There was a clatter of silverware as they started to dine, and their voices resounded in the air. The father mentioned selling a large order of drills, while the mother nodded, seemingly entranced by the conversation. The son growled angrily when he finally realised his mother wasn't listening to him. In order to intimate his supremacy, he kicked her from underneath the table.

A faint smell of the delicious meal wafted through the cracks of the window, and the girl's mouth began to water. She slightly peaked out through the door of the small cabin, underneath the staircase. She watched as each of the plates were quickly cleaned and then refilled, noticeably flinching as the father took third helpings of everything. She was forced to look away, eyes gleaming with pain when the son started on his fifth serving.

Soon, there wasn't any food left on the table, not even miniscule crumbs. There was a temporary lull in the conversation as the mother stood and went through a door toward the kitchen.

The girl finally glanced back with a loud rumble from her stomach.

Suddenly, Mrs Dursley's gaze flicked to the door.

She shrank back and hid in the ever-deepening shadows. She tried to still her rapidly beating heart. Her fingers nervously twisted at her dress, eyes widened with terror.

After a few nerve-racking minutes, Mrs Dursley slowly opened the door. Her eyes looking sternly in the gentle little eyes of the girl. Her body was shrunk than usual because of hunger and malnutrition. Mrs Dursley commanded," Are you hungry?" The girl nodded her head ploddingly, too afraid of her aunt.

Mrs Dursley went inside the kitchen and prepaid a piece of bagel and some roasted meat for the hungry child. Mr Dursley shouted from his dinner table "Don't waste so much food for that filthy daughter of your dead wazzock sister!" Mrs Dursley came in and handed over a plate with a bagel and small piece of bacon to the girl. The girl started gulping the food greedily as soon as she got it in her hands. Within a few seconds, she finished it, but her hunger was still not satisfied by eating a morsel of food for only once in a day. 

She bites back her pathetic groan and stuck her head out of the door again as she watched the entire food in the table being systematically disappeared. They didn't even bother to clear the table, clearly expecting someone else to do it for them.

The girl simply put her head against the glass in a gesture of defeat. She went towards the small window which gives her a clear view of the beautiful nature outside the house. The rain had stopped and the clear sky with the sparkling stars was refreshing her mind. She looked up at the twinkling stars and momentarily wished she could share in their happiness.

She quickly noted Sirius, the Dog Star, remembering that it was supposed to be the brightest one of all. For some reason, it brought to her mind angelic women with thick, dark red hair that fell to her shoulders and with bright green almond-shaped eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes Harriet had ever seen, like silver mixed with emeralds. Oftentimes in her memories, it felt as though the woman was holding her tightly, as she kissed her cheeks and gently brushed the curls off her forehead. She giggled as the woman sang a song to make her sleep. Though for the life of her, she couldn't clearly remember who the woman was. Or if she'd ever really known her at all.

Regardless, a small smile touched her lips as she thought of her, and she began to hum a nameless tune as she went into deep sleep. 

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