Never Too Young To Die

The Beginning ✔

In the beginning everything seemed perfect. Roldophus and Bellatrix were newly wed and on their way to becoming a happy family. They moved to a small cottage in the country side and settled into their new life. Bellatrix had their first child one year later, naming the wide-eyed, baby girl Hazeline.

Things went downhill over the years. Roldophus died before Hazeline reached the age of three. Roldophus encouraged Bellatrix to join the dark side before he passed in order to protect their daughter. Hazeline - or Hazel as her mother called her, grew up believing that her mother's conversion was pure self-defence.

Until she reached the age of 9, Hazeline bought her mother's stories of how it was her fathers's dying wish for Bellatrix to keep both herself and her daughter safe. But during the years that passed Hazeline feared that her mother was no longer just using her dark side to defend her family but actually was being engulfed by the evilness that surrounded her.

~HAZELINE~

Dreams are strange in the sense that they seem to reflect reality.

Tomorrow was the day I had been dreaming of my whole life. I was starting my first year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Nothing could snuff out my happiness, not even my mother's lack of enthusiasm.

"Mother?" I called, my voice echoing throughout our small, wooden house in the middle of nowhere.

"Yes, Hazel?" I heard her voice from upstairs.

I ran up the stairs two-by-two and opened the door to my mother's bedroom. I walked in quietly and noticed her in her usual spot, sitting by the window in a wooden chair, staring at the green fields.

"Mother?" I repeated.

She turned to give me a small smile.

"Hazel, why don't you sit down?" I frowned, but nodded and sat next to her on the window sill. "I need to remind you of something."

I nodded again, listening intently.

She wasn't smiling anymore, I could sense it when she said, "please. Don't trust anyone. Try to keep to yourself and be as brave as you already are."

I flashed her a quick smile as she smiled weakly and briefly before it faded into a frown that caused her forehead to crease between her eyebrows.

"And remember, Hazel, you're never too young to die."

ϟ

The sun shone through my bedroom window and forced my eyes open. Today was the day. It was do or die. I had to make sure I stayed under the radar and out of people's way, keeping my mother's secret and mine.

I ran downstairs with a million thoughts circling my mind, the coolness of the wooden stairs sending a shiver up my spine.

"Good morning," my mother said to me, pushing her curly brown hair out of her eyes as she placed an omelette in front of me.

"Hi, mom," I replied, sitting down at the wooden table and scoffing down my breakfast.

"Are you ready?" She asked, her expression grim.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I answered with a grin.

Once I had finished my food I stalked back upstairs. It was gloomy outside, the clouds hung outside my window as I set out to find something to wear that was suitable for my first day. In the end I decided to wear a pair of boyfriend jeans with a pink jumper and a pair of white converse.

I glanced around my room, a nostalgic feeling settling inside me as I realised that this was going to be my last day in this house for a while.

"It's time to go!" My mother yelled.

"I'm ready!" I shouted back.

I hastily grabbed my wand and my trunk as well as my owl and ran downstairs to be greeted by my mother's arms hugging me goodbye.

"How am I getting to the platform?" I mumbled into the hug.

"You will be traveling by floo powder." I pulled away and nodded.

I walked back over to my mum and gave her one last hug.

"I'll miss you," I said, my eyes brimming with tears.

"I'll miss you more," she said and I looked up, to see that she was on the verge of tears as well.

"I love you, mom, and I'll see you soon."

She nodded and said, "I love you too."

She smiled softly, gently pushing me towards the floo gate and handing me my things. I stepped into the it and waved goodbye to my mum, gazing at my living room one last time before I was engulfed by green flames.

A small alley way greeted me as I stumbled onto the streets in a slightly-dazed state. I straightened up and began to make my way to the platform, not wanting to miss my only opportunity out of my mundane life and my only chance to get to Hogwarts.

I walked down the road, muggles bustling passed me as I tried to prevent myself from getting trampled by the strangers. Eventually I saw the train station and I wasn't surprised by how many people were gathered there. Walking through the crowds of people, I found a trolley and plonked my heavy trunk and owl on it.

What now? I thought worriedly.

My attention was grabbed by a red-headed family mentioning the word "muggle," running passed me, using language I recognised all too well.

Wizards.

I watched intently as two teenage boys ran through a brick wall together, completely disappearing into it. My mouth fell open as I moved forward to double-check I wasn't dreaming. A middle-aged ginger-haired lady turned to me with a wise smile on her face.

"First year at Hogwarts?" She asked, her tone kind.

I nodded sheepishly.

"Same as Ron!" She exclaimed, pointing to her red-headed son who waved shyly.

I smiled at him, following him through the brick wall and out the other side.

On platform 9 and 3/4 I could see witches and wizards of all ages and sizes. Many were saying goodbyes to their parents or chatting to friends. I just walked past all of them, heaving my trunk off the trolley and climbed, with my head down, onto the train.

The Hogwarts Express was everything I imagined it would be. It was full of life, laughter and magic. I strolled into an empty compartment, sliding the door shut behind me and placing my trunk on the floor.

I turned my head and gazed out the window. Parents were waving and crying  at their children on the train. The sight of them made me think of my own mother. I missed her already. Was she thinking about me? Was she worrying over if I had made it here safely? 

I was snapped from my trance by the sound of the door sliding open.

"Can I sit here?" a dark-haired boy asked politely.

Even though I didn't look at him for long, I knew exactly who was about to sit opposite me. Harry Potter, the boy who lived. I nodded quickly before putting my head down.

A strange sort of silence hung in the air as I assessed the dark-haired boy in front of me. Thinking it over, we weren't all that different, him and I. Just two lost kids trying to survive this world, lacking parental guidance but flourishing in dreams and determination. He gave me an odd sense of hope. He'd been through so much and yet he was here, sitting in front of me with a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt adorning his face, but other than that remaining unscathed.

Maybe I wouldn't be judged by my heritage this year. Maybe I wouldn't be sorted into Slytherin and maybe, just maybe I'd find others who felt the same way as me.

Maybe I wasn't so different after all.

ϟ

EDITED ✔