Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Harry Potter.

~

No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to remember anything but growing up with my aunt, uncle, and cousin. Usually it was frustrating, but lately I was felt myself yearning for answers more than ever. How had I ended up here? As my eleventh birthday grew near, it occurred to me that I had spent nearly ten years here now.

And by here, I mean in the house of my aunt, uncle, and cousin, but not somewhere I would exactly call home, you see.

I had always dreamed about who my parents were and what they were like. My aunt's house held no pictures of them, even though my mom had been her sister. I never knew why I had never even seen a picture of them. I wasn't allowed to ask questions.

All I knew was that my parents had died in some sort of car crash and I had survived. The only thing that proved me this actually happened was a very unique lightning-shaped scar I've always had on my forehead. Where else could that have come from?

Anyway, that left me here with my only living relatives. Sometimes I pretended they weren't really my relatives because they either: one) ignored me or two) gave me nasty looks that made me question if I had forgotten to shower in the past week.

I lived in a small cupboard under the stairs. It wasn't much, but it was mine. I usually didn't mind it too much except for the spiders. I'd gotten used to them, but they still creeped me out. Why did anything need eight legs?

I was unwanted; I had always known that deep, deep down. Uncle Vernon always shot me nasty looks and barked at me in a way that was not fatherly. Aunt Petunia seemed to be sick every time she looked at me, as though I reminded her of something she hated to think of.

And my unbearable cousin, Dudley, was a fat pig to be brief, and he loved to mess around with me: chasing me, scaring me, pulling my hair, and hitting me.

Oh! My name is Haile Potter (pronounced like the weather "hail"). I'm short, very thin, I have extremely messy, curly, and completely untameable jet black hair, that I keep a few inches above my elbows (my aunt absolutely detested my hair, but I've learned to like it) with my bangs swept to the side to cover the scar, and bright, brilliant green eyes.

I always seem to attract odd happenings. Sometimes, I figure, it's luck. But other times…I'm not sure how to describe them.

Like, that one time, for instance, when Aunt Petunia forced me to pierce my ears when I was seven years old. My hair was extremely short and she complained I looked too much like a boy. So, to make me look more feminine, she decided to get my ears pierced. I completely and totally refused. I was not afraid; I just did not see the necessity in it.

Although when Aunt Petunia dragged me to the mall, I went quietly but furiously. However, when the lady brought the gun to my ear, I shut my eyes tight and thought how badly I didn't want this. Nothing happened. I opened my eyes and the lady was staring fixedly at her gun. She told my aunt that for some reason the gun was not working, and that we should come again tomorrow. My Aunt Petunia would hear nothing of it and rushed me to another place.

The same thing occurred, and after it happened three more times in a row, each of the piercing specialists baffled, Aunt Petunia rushed me home, and I was sentenced to two weeks in my cupboard for no apparent reason.

And another occasion, two Christmases ago, Dudley had been throwing a tantrum because he had asked for Version 2 of some video game, and they bought him Version 1 I was standing outside the sitting room, listening in, not wanting to get in the middle of it.

My aunt and uncle hurriedly blamed it on me, saying that was what I had said he wanted, and I was becoming angrier by the second for playing the role of the scapegoat. Suddenly, the entire Christmas tree fell to the floor, in a huge crash, nearly crushing the maplewood coffee table. For this, I had not been punished, for I ran to my cupboard and pretended I was asleep when my uncle had run throughout the house yelling for me.

Even though the Dursleys finally concluded they had no sufficient proof it was me, I had still wondered how it could have been me in the first place. I knew I hadn't done it; I mean, I was in the hall, nowhere near the tree! But sometimes…I had the funny feeling like Ihad made it happen…

Anyway, this is where my story begins, me in my cupboard, lying on my small something of a bed, waiting, waiting…waiting….thinking...

When will my life begin?

"Get up! Up, up!" called a sharp voice through the miniature door of my cupboard. I had already been awake luckily, but I groaned and sat up anyhow.

"I'm up!" I called back with a bit of exasperation that I instantly regretted.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, young lady!" came the sharp voice again that belonged to my aunt. "Hurry up and get out! You need to look after the bacon, and do not let it burn like last time! Everything must be perfect on Duddykin's birthday."

I groaned again but louder. I had momentarily forgot that it was my cousin's birthday today. "Keep your hair on, I'm going," I muttered incoherently.

I dressed in an old pair of jean shorts and an old gray sweater even though it was almost the dead of summer. Everything always looked so terrible on me; I was so small and skinny. And my clothes were usually bought from the thrift store, never in my size. I blasted open the door, which was very old and sometimes got stuck, and strolled down the hall towards the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon merely grunted as I walked in, and Dudley hardly noticed. Tons of presents for Dudley were piled high on the kitchen table, and I sighed with a bit jealousy. I had never really received a birthday present, unless you count the broken mirror (isn't that bad luck?) and an umbrella that had been opened...(HEY ISN'T THAT ALSO BAD LUCK?)

I uneasily attempted to flip the bacon; I was a terrible cook, to say the least. I couldn't cook anything for my life, and my aunt seemed to remember this as she shooed me out of the way to take care of the bacon herself, muttering about useless little girls.

I sat down at the table, across from Dudley and my uncle, so that they couldn't see me over the tall mounds of gifts. Dudley spoke once Aunt Petunia served the fried eggs and bacon. She "forgot" to serve me so I had to casually swipe a piece of bacon off the pan once she sat it on the table.

"Thirty-six," Dudley remarked, surveying the lot. "That's two less than last year."

I groaned inwardly and banged my head on the table in pure frustration and disgust. Like thirty-six presents just wasn't good enough for him.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present over here," came the soothing voice of my aunt, and I heard a shuffling of boxes.

"All right, thirty-seven then," Dudley said, and I anticipated a tantrum. I wondered if they'd notice if I just…slipped out of the room. I ate quickly while my aunt was reassuring Dudley that they'd buy him two more presents today.

I quietly got up from the table as the telephone rang. Excellent; a distraction, I thought. I tip-toed to the door behind Dudley and Uncle Vernon, and I had almost turned the knob when my aunt hung up and jerked her head at me, saying, "Mrs. Figg can't take her. Broken leg. Can you just believe?"

Uncle Vernon turned around to look at me as if I were some sort of leech. I dropped my hand from the knob and tried to look innocent. "Well, what are we going to do with her?" my uncle questioned, and I could see Dudley fidgeting in his seat.

As they went through unsuccessful options, I just stood by the door, annoyed, and finally snapped, "I could just stay here. Alone?"

"Heavens, no!" Petunia cried as if I had just offered to sell Dudley to a circus.

I stomped my foot in anger, but they weren't looking. "We'll just have to take her," my aunt said, slowly, defeated. "Leave her in the car…"

"The car is new, Petunia!" Uncle Vernon argued. "She can't sit in it alone….Dear Lord, all she does is cause trouble! This is—"

Suddenly, Dudley began to sob loudly. I knew better. He was pretending to cry to get what he wanted. "Dunky duddykins, don't cry, she won't spoil your special day!" Petunia cried, embracing him in a tight hug.

"She's…always…messing everything….up!" Dudley sobbed out, coughing in mock pretend. "Don't let her come!" I closed my eyes, trying to pretend this wasn't happening.

The doorbell rang and Dudley's cries ceased. "That's Dudley's friend!" Petunia cried frantically. "Goodness!" She ran to answer it and in walked Piers Polkiss, who might not have disliked me as much as Dudley, even though he didn't have the courage to say it.

"I suppose we haven't got a choice," Vernon said finally, after Petunia had waved good-bye to Piers' mother. "Haile has to come." He sighed heavily as if this was a horrible nightmare he wanted to wake up from.

Dudley and Piers exchanged a look of annoyance, but I shot them a happy grin. I never got to come along on Dudley's birthday outing. I always stayed with old lady Figg, who showed me dumb pictures of cats and made me play dress up with all of her ancient clothing.

Before I clambered into the car after Piers, Uncle Vernon grabbed my wrist and warned, "I'm warning you…any funny business…and you'll be locked up 'til Christmas."

I sighed and replied, "Pul-ease, I'm not going to do anything." No one ever seemed to believe me.

I was so excited to be going out somewhere, I didn't even care that Uncle Vernon was complaining about me, as usual, as I was his favorite complaint. I didn't care that Dudley and Piers kept whispering and laughing about me. I was in for a good day, I thought.

I was right. It was very sunny, and I even got a lemon ice pop (that was considerably less tasty and smaller than Dudley and Pier's large chocolate cones, but still quite good, nonetheless). I enjoyed seeing all the animals, as I had never been to a zoo, and even though Dudley and Piers got bored after a while, I had a great time.

We ate at the zoo restaurant and even though I wasn't allowed to get an adult meal like Piers and Dudley did (they thought they were acting very mature by ordering a cheeseburger instead of a kiddie burger with cheese), my chicken fingers were satisfying. I even sneaked a French fry off Dudley's plate when he went to the restroom; that pretty much made my day.

After lunch, we ventured to the reptile house. This was my favorite part; for some reason, I had always been fascinated by snakes. Dudley and Piers seemed to enjoy it, too. Dudley found the biggest one right away, and Uncle V banged on the glass for him but the snake didn't move.

I approached it as Dudley ran off, bored. I stared sympathetically at its sleeping form and suddenly, it opened its eyes and raised his head until he was looking straight at me. I was shocked...especially after the snake winked at me.

I was petrified. Like I said, I always attracted odd happenings! However, once I got over the shock, I sent the snake an encouraging smile as if it could understand me. The snake jerked his head to my uncle and cousin and rolled its eyes, as if to say, I get that all the time.

"How annoying," I muttered back to the snake, actually pretending it could hear me. The snake nodded and I knew at once it could understand me. I excitedly stared into its eyes, wondering what this all meant.

"Where are you from?" I asked it, eager to talk more to a snake.

The snake jabbed its tail at the sign next to its cage. Boa Constrictor, Brazil. This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Aw, that's so sad," I murmured, smiling sadly. "I wish there was something I could do—"

Piers' yell echoed throughout the reptile house. "DUDLEY! COME HERE AND LOOK AT THE SNAKE!" he had shouted, and now both of them ran towards the glass.

Involuntarily, Dudley knocked me out of the way with his massive arm and not expecting the blow and being so small, I fell to the hard stone floor. I was angry at being flung aside, but before I had time even to think, the glass had disappeared from the snake's exhibit.

Piers and Dudley let out yells, and the snake was rapidly exiting its home, eager to be free. It was an uproar; people grabbing their kids and fleeing towards the exit, shouting and screaming. The snake slithered past me, and no mistaking it, it hissed, "Brazil, here I come…gracias, amiga."

I hardly remembered the keeper of the reptile house coming to apologize and leaving the zoo. I had been in shock. The glass had…just disappeared? Once again, I got the feeling I had something to do with it, although it was quite impossible.

In the car ride home, Dudley and Piers were elaborating on exaggerated stories of the encounter, before Piers unfortunately asked me loudly, "Weren't you talking to it, Haile?" I stayed silent the whole ride home.

Piers left briefly after we arrived home, and Uncle Vernon turned on me, grabbed me by my hair, and flung me into the cupboard. I had the feeling I wouldn't be coming out for a very, very long time….
No matter how many times I shouted back at my uncle that I had done nothing, nothing at all, he refused to believe me, and eventually just left me alone.

It was so unfair that I was did something I didn't do often: cry. I was so confused, so sick of my life, and I would've given anything to just see my parents one single time. I missed them so much, even though I had barely known them.

What seemed like years later, the Dursleys finally allowed me out of my cupboard. It was well into summer vacation at this time, and I couldn't even enjoy it, because I wasn't allowed to go anywhere, and Dudley's friends were always over, which meant Dudley showed off more, which meant picking on me all day long.

A couple weeks later, I came out my cupboard and strolled down to the hall and into the kitchen, but no one looked up as I sat down at the table. The usual sound of the click of the mail slot and flop of letters carried to the kitchen. "Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said from behind his newspaper.

"Make her get it!" Dudley whined.

"Get the mail, Haile," Uncle Vernon told me instead.

"No, make Dudley get it!" I argued, but it was no use, really.

"Poke her with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Dudley had recently got his uniform and walking stick for his private school he would be attending. I was to attend the local public school.

I narrowly dodged the stick and exasperatedly got up to get the mail. I begun to look through the letters; nothing came of interest until the last letter in the small pile. My mouth dropped in shock. The envelope read:

Ms. Haile Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

It was very thick and it looked as if it were a few years old. I turned the letter over and an unfamiliar symbol was on the wax seal: a coat of arms with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding the letter H.

"Hurry up!" yelled my uncle. I looked up, remembering what I been sent to do, and tucked my letter in my pocket. I ate my small breakfast as fast as I could and ran away to my cupboard to open my first, very own letter, my heart beating excitedly.

I yanked the letter out of my pocket, and had peeled away the seal, opened the flap, and was about to take out the thick papers that were enclosed, when a sharp rap on my door made me snap to attention.

"Haile, come out, I need you try on your new school uniform," came a sharp, toneless voice. My cupboard door was opened and there stood my aunt, looking annoyed. "Come—what have you got?" Her voice was suddenly suspicious and cold.

Before I could say a word, she snatched the letter right out of my hands. I started to protest angrily as she yanked the letter out of the envelope and the envelope fell astray to the floor. She read the letter, lips pursed, and her face became as white as snow.

She then shrieked, "VERNON!"

Uncle Vernon was there in an instant. "What is it?" He was sweating. Dudley trod behind him.

She thrust the letter at him and instead of white, his face turned a very nasty purple shade. "Give me my letter!" I suddenly shouted.

Uncle Vernon, still clutching the letter, and Aunt Petunia, after sweeping the envelope from the ground, made their way to the kitchen and slammed the door in Dudley's face. Dudley tapped the door with his Smeltings stick, but they didn't let him in, which was foreign to him.

I kicked Dudley to make him shut up with the stick and he took over the keyhole while I lay down to listen through the crack in the door.

"Vernon, look at the address! How could they know where she sleeps? Are they watching—?"

"Watching—spying—might be following us."

"What do we do?"

"We'll ignore it. They'll leave us alone if we don't reply. Yes…that's settled."

"But—"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" Uncle Vernon said.

What were they talking about? I needed to get to the bottom of this.