A Slow Beginning || l

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In the cold beginnings of a new morning, the wind howled fiercely, beating against the brick walls of a grim orphanage in the heart of London. It was a new morning, indeed; the moon was still hiding behind ebony clouds that blanketed the orphanage in a layer of rain and thick fog, and through the dirty window, a young girl sat staring. She hardly blinked, her dark gaze unfocused on the city in front of her. Her shoulders weighed with exhaustion, and yet, she could not bring herself to lay down.

Against her wishes, her eyes began to flutter shut. She could feel herself leaning down on her desk, resting her cheek against the cool wood. Her shoulders began to relax as sleep ebbed at her mind. She was so, so close... And then—

"YOU! YOU DID THIS! YOU KILLED ME!"

She leapt away from the desk like it had burned her, the imaginary shouts still ringing in her head. She clamped her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut as the most horrible images flashed through her mind. A boy, only a few years older than her; his once friendly gaze was full of a familiar sort of hatred. Familiar only because it was the same nightmare that had haunted her for the past month.

It was halfway through July, and to Lucy Rochester, each day felt like an eternity.

Her eyes shot open as she realized that no, he wasn't here, and no, he wasn't mad at her. But he should be. Would he be? He said he cared about her, and when he was there, she never doubted that for a second. But then he hurt her. But did he hurt her, or was she complaining too much? He hadn't physically hurt her, he killed the people who did hurt her— but he'd petrified her friends, lied to her all year. No, yes, of course he hurt her...

Then why did she still miss him so much?

She bit her lip, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. What was the point of trying to stop anymore? It wasn't like anyone would see her. She rarely left her room at Wool's Orphanage, and when she did, it was unbearable. Everywhere she looked, the other residents would shoot her amused looks and whisper about her. She'd never minded before, but now they weighed on her mind. Now she hadn't the energy to fight back. Because, well, they were right, weren't they? She was a freak, and she was evil, even if she didn't mean to be. Little did they know that she opened the Chamber of Secrets and nearly loosed the darkest wizard history had ever seen onto the world. Little did they know she had brought on death.

Sniffling, she wiped the tears out of her eyes with her sleeve. She had no choice but to sink into her desk chair again, returning her gaze out the window. It was the easiest place to look, she found. While the iron gate of the orphanage stayed the same, the city behind it was rarely consistent. Different people passed by every day, and she never saw the same cloud twice. Last week, a man had walked by with quadruplet children. She'd pondered whether or not he had a wife for an hour straight. It certainly didn't matter if he was or not, but she'd rather spend time thinking about that than... less desirable things.

She wasn't sure how long she looked out the window, but it was morning when she snapped out of her daze. The sun had just begun to rise, and something flew closer from the distance. She squinted, and then she sighed, looking away.

Another owl. Lucy glanced at the ever-growing stack of unopened letters on her desk and felt a rush of guilt. Five from Harry. Four from Ron. Seven from Hermione. A combined total of fifteen from Cedric, Daisy, Heidi, and Maxine. And last, but not least, twenty from Anthony Rickett. She had a feeling this one was going to be the twenty-first, since she knew Anthony had a black owl, but as she opened the window to let the owl inside, she noticed that it had a peculiar shade of yellow eyes.

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