Fortune of Fate (A female Harry Potter fanfiction)

[1]

"Up! Get up! Now!" Rose woke up with a start. Her aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" Petunia screeched. Rose heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. Rose rolled onto her back as she tried to remember the dream she had had, although it seemed oddly real.

Her aunt was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" He demanded. "Nearly." Said Rose. "Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Rose groaned. "What did you say?" Her aunt snapped through the door. "Nothing, nothing.." Dudley's birthday- how could she have forgotten? Rose slowly got out of bed and started looking for socks. She found a pair under her bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Rose was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where she slept.

When she was dressed she went down the hall to the kitchen. The table was almost completely hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Rose, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Rose, but he couldn't very often catch her. Rose didn't look it, but she was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Rose had always been small and skinny for her age. She looked even smaller and skinnier than she was because all she had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than she was.

Rose had a thin face, knobby knees, long black hair and bright green eyes. She wore round glasses held together with Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley punched her in the nose. The only thing Rose liked about her own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. She had had it for as long as she could remember, and the first question she could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia how she got it.

''In a car crash when your parents died,'' she had said. ''And don't ask questions.''

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Rose was turning over the bacon. ''Comb your hair!'' He barked, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of the newspaper and shouted that Rose needed a haircut . Rose must have had more haircuts than the rest of the girls in her class put together, but it made no difference, her hair simply grew that way - all over the place.

Rose was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery, blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick fat head. Aunt Petunia often said Dudley looked like a baby angel - Rose often thought Dudley looked like a pig in a wig, however she would never say it aloud, less she wanted to spend a month in her cupboard.

Rose put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was diffiult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. HIs face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up to his mother Petunia and father Vernon. "That's two less than last year." Dudley complained.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"Alright, thirty seven then." Dudley said going red in the face. Rose, who could sense Dudley's tantrum coming quickly scarfed down her bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley gets the idea of turning the table over.