Twisted (Year 1)

Wolfwood Mansion

~(y/n) POV~

"(y/n)! Breakfast is ready, get out of bed!" My mother yells from the doorway.

"I'm coming mom, let me get ready, I know how much you hate us wearing our nightgowns to breakfast!" I scream back at her.

I sit up quickly and yawn. I never really was a morning person, but I quickly learned that my mother could care less. Breakfast was at 7:00 am sharp each morning. I remove myself from the covers of my queen bed and instantly miss the comforting feeling of the silk sheets. 

I slump over to my closet and dig through the racks and racks of clothing. I quickly slip on a black tank top and a short white skirt. I layer on a few pieces of jewelry and comb through my hair, because I know my mother and father like it when I look presentable. 

I race out of my bedroom and through the winding halls of the mansion. I've lived here my whole life and I still find myself getting lost at times. I stop when I reach a tall white doorway that's completely sealed off. I sigh and look at the ground.

I was standing at the door of my older brother Maxx's room. Or at least he used to be my older brother. I miss him so much, that sometimes I catch myself standing in front of his door for minutes at a time. He was the only person in my family that really understood me. He didn't make me act like someone I wasn't, and he would always be on my side. Mother and father mean well, but they can get aggressive when they're angry, and he would always be there to protect me. 

What aggravated me the most was that the cause of death was being hidden from me. I knew my mother and father were lying when they said he was killed wondering too far from the group during a field trip through the forbidden forest. Maxx was smarter than that, and I knew he could fend off whatever was in that forest. 

What I was never able to figure out, was what killed him 6 months ago. 

I snap back into reality, realizing that breakfast had started 10 minutes ago, and I was still standing upstairs in this empty hallway. I take off at full speed to the dining room before I'm severely lectured about punctuality.

"Good morning (y/n), I'm glad you've finally decided to join us. I was worried you were going to skip breakfast this morning. Apollo has something for you, and I think you will be pleased with its contents." My mother speaks through clenched teeth. 

Why does she have to speak to me like I'm one of her clients at work? And why does our owl have mail for me this early in the morning? He usually arrives with the post around noon. I raise my eyebrows and reach to grab the letter that's clenched in his talents. It looks like a normal letter aside from the fact that it was sealed with red wax and pressed with the letter H. I think about it for a moment and realize what this means. I remember when Maxx got his letter in the mail, it was almost four years ago. My other older brother Elijah got his in the mail about 2 years ago. I quickly open it and gasp. This was my acceptance letter into Hogwarts. 

My father smiles, followed by my mother. They rarely acknowledge any of my achievements so this was very exciting. 

"I can't believe it! It's August and Elijah already received his list of supplies, so I was worried I wasn't going to get in! School starts September first, so this is very late notice." I cheer happily.

"This is very impressive I must say, but you need to abide by our rules if you would like to go." My father says before I can get out another word. 

"Why are we talking about (y/n) again?" Elijah sneers. "Everyone in their bloody right mind can get into Hogwarts. I wouldn't be talking about it as if she won the Quidditch world cup. Half of the school is filled with mudbloods. Goes to show how little talent and class you need to attend." 

I look down at the floor and clench the end of my skirt tightly. I hate it when they use that word. I do believe we have more power than witches and wizards muggle-born, but I don't think Elijah and the rest of my family need to call them slurs, it just shows how power-hungry and insecure they are. 

"What's wrong (y/n), got something to say? Or maybe you're just upset Maxx isn't here to speak up for you." my younger sister Jazmine shouts across the table. She's only 9 years old and acts worse than Elijah. 

"Mother, when are we going to Diagon Alley to get our supplies?" I smile and ignore my two siblings. 

"School starts in less than a week, so I planned to take you two today." She nods at Elijah and I.

"There are going to be other important people from the ministry there with their children, so I expect you to go change into something more presentable. You two need to be on your best behaviors." My father folds his napkin. 

My whole life I've tried to stay away from the people who work in the ministry with my parents, most of them have warped mindsets, and talking to them annoys me. I was curious about meeting their children, but I haven't gotten that chance yet because all of the balls and banquets I've been to have been at my mansion. People rarely brought their children along. I thought it made sense though because all of that fancy scenery was just for show. I always knew it was strictly for business purposes. 

"I'll be right down mother." I say as I run out of the dining room. Elijah slowly follows me to get to his room. I didn't eat anything because I was too eager to get to Diagon Alley.

I rush over to my closet to pick something to wear. It takes me a minute to shift through all of my casual dresses and find one I actually like. It's a black dress that sits right above my knees. I change into it, fix my hair, and look in the mirror before I hear a knock at the door. 

"Come in." I say calmly 

"(y/n) you look proper." My mom walks up to me with a tube of mascara and applies some to my eyelashes. I hate that stuff, I had to wear it to all of the banquets. "Hurry now Elijah is downstairs we need to go."

I follow her down the hall and into the lounge room. 

I grab my father's arm, as do my mother and Elijah. All of a sudden the lounge becomes a blur and I shut my eyes tight. I hate apparating, it makes me sick.