Here is the next chapter! We are nearing the climax of the story and I am super excited!

Warnings: faint allusions to cutting

As always: Enjoy! :)

Just before sunrise the next morning, Hope stood in front of the mirror in the guest bedroom with a pair of kitchen scissors. She stared at the bright green eyes reflecting back at her in the mirror before running her hair under the water to tame it just a little. She used a dirty towel from her cousin's bathroom to keep the floor clean as she ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair.

Hope took a small fistful of the black curls and held the hair straight as she slowly cut it away. She did this until her hair fell around the bottom of her ears. Then the second round began. Hope continued to trim the various strand and curls until she was satisfied that it would not fall into her eyes or be long enough for her uncle to grab easily.

Hope set the scissors down and ran her fingers through the damp curls, then she made sure that the surfaces in the room were clean before throwing the hair away and putting the towel in a clothes hamper.

One last glance in the mirror told Hope what she already knew. She looked like a ten year old boy, not an almost sixteen year old girl. She felt pretty with her hair longer and enjoyed doing things to it, but it was simply unrealistic to keep it long while being worked to the bone in the blistering heat every day. Hope scowled once at her reflection and slipped quietly downstairs to make breakfast for the family.

Vernon made a point to not say a word to her, which was a relief to Hope. Any time that she happened to accidentally make eye contact, his eyes would flash dangerously. Hope found that it was safer to keep her eyes trained on the floor. Her uncle had already kicked her knee in for daring to look at him in the eyes when she was placing a plate of bacon on the table, and Hope was now sporting a vibrant new bruise alongside a light limp.

After everyone had left for the day, Hope had a few chores to do inside before she could leave to help Emily's mom with Emily. It was around noon that Hope set off to their house. She made a mental note to figure out what the mom's name was. The day outside showed signs of a summer storm brewing, clouds covering the sky. It was a sweet relief from the constant heat.

The wind had picked up quite a bit by the time that Hope found herself standing in front of a house that looked just like all of the others in the neighborhood with the exclusion of the fact that the yard was not quite as well cared for. Hope rang the doorbell and within seconds, the door was thrown open by Emily.

"Hope!" The little girl beamed at Hope, making the older girl laugh. Emily was dressed in a princess outfit that had seen better days, and there were little plastic princess shoes on her feet. "MUM!" Emily ran off into the house in search of her mother, leaving the front door wide open. Hope smiled a little helplessly, not quite sure if she should go inside or not.

Hope was finally ushered inside by the girl's mother.

"Please ignore all of the boxes." The woman sighed. "We're still unpacking."

"You cut your hair!" Emily piped up. Hope laughed a little nervously.

"I did."

Emily tilted her head to the side as though she was considering some deep philosophical concept. "I liked it better long. You look like a boy now." She stated bluntly.

"Emily Miller, you apologize right now!" The woman, Mrs. Miller, looked horrified at her daughter's statement. Hope reassured the mother that she wasn't offended. Secretly, Hope as just glad that she didn't need to ask for her last name anymore.

"I just need to run to the store. I should be back soon, but feel free to help yourself to anything in the house."

"Okay." Hope spoke knowing that she wouldn't dare to ever eat any of their food, even if she was starving.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Miller was gone and Hope was dragged away to the little girl's room to play. Hope did her best to hide her slight limp, and, as far as she knew, her efforts appeared to work. Hope let go of her worries briefly and let herself be caught up in the wonder and imagination of the child.

Veronica Miller was a tired woman. Her only child, Emily, was so full of energy and excitement at the prospect of moving that she was harder to keep track of as they settled into the neighborhood. Veronica almost wept with joy at the arrival of Hope into her life.

There was something about the young teenager that told her that Hope could be trusted. At first, Veronica had been wary, especially in the park yesterday. It wasn't every day that a teenager lurked around park where children played. Hope's tired and slightly dirty appearance was Veronica's main cause for concern when she saw her talking to her daughter.

There was something disarming about Hope's smile and her quiet manner of speech. Emily seemed to also be quite taken with her, for which Veronica was grateful.

Thunder rolled in the distance as Veronica pulled into her driveway about two hours after she left. She looked at the sky and quickly began to gather her groceries.

"Hello!"

Veronica looked up at the greeting to see a woman with a small toy dog on a leash. She returned the greeting, which apparently was enough permission for the woman to walk over to start a conversation.

"I'm Eleanor Pennington."

"Veronica Miller."

They exchanged a few pleasantries before Veronica tried to insinuate that she was in a rush.

"I'm sure you need to go, although I did have a question." Eleanor looked a little concerned. "I happened to see the Potter girl go into your house earlier. What do you know of her?"

"Yes, I assume you are talking about Hope? She's watching my daughter for me. Is something wrong?"

"Well," Eleanor didn't seem to quite know how to phrase the words in her head so that the mother in front of her wouldn't be scared for her daughter's life. "You see, Hope Potter isn't considered very safe or stable."

"What do you mean?" Veronica frowned and shifted the groceries in her arms.

"She has something wrong mentally, and tends to have a violent streak. Just two summer's ago, Petunia Dursley—that would be her aunt— said that she attempted to kill her husband's sister. It was the whole reason that the girl left early for her boarding school. She goes somewhere for troubled children for the majority of the year."

"Oh, my god!" Veronica felt more than alarmed at this knowledge. Her daughter had been alone with Hope for the past two hours! "Thank you for letting me know! If you will excuse me!"

Veronica gathered up the last few groceries and shut the car door. She opened the front door and rushed to put the items in her arms down in the kitchen. The house was extremely quiet to her panicked mind. There were some noises coming from her daughter's bedroom. Veronica moved down the hallway and peeked into the room.

Her heart calmed a little at the sight of the thin teenaged girl braiding her daughter's hair. Emily looked perfectly happy as she chatted away. Veronica paused when she heard her daughter ask a question that seemed strange.

"Why do you have long sleeves on?" There was a pause.

"Because my skin is sensitive to the sun."

"Oh...But there isn't any sun today." There was a longer pause.

"I guess I was just cold this morning." The older girl's voice was a little strangled. Hope reached for a hair tie that was in front of Emily.

"Wait!" The little girl demanded. Veronica watched as her daughter grabbed Hope's hand with both of her's and looked at it closely. A look of panic showed on Hope's face and she pulled away from the little girl. "Wait!" Emily repeated with persistence. "Why do you have so many little lines on your hands?"

"I guarden a lot outside, and my aunt has several really thorny plants."

Emily twisted around just as Hope finished tying off her hair. The little girl climbed onto Hope's lap and gave her a big hug. For some reason, the look of surprise on Hope's face brought tears to Veronica's eyes. Hope winced as she brought her arms around Emily.

Veronica decided to knock on the door at that moment. Hope jumped, a flash of fear in her eyes before she realized that it was just Mrs. Miller.

"Mum!" Emily scrambled off of Hope and flung her arms around her mother.

Hope prepared to leave, following Veronica to the door. After saying goodbye to Emily, she was about to walk out of the door when the mother held out some money.

"Oh, you don't need to pay me." Hope held up a hand and gave Veronica a smile.

"I insist." Veronica had a feeling that the girl needed the money. However, she didn't ask for Hope's number or address on purpose, the conversation with Eleanor lingering at the back of her mind.

Hope looked a little doubtful, but took the money with a shaking hand. "Thank you."

There was a loud crack of thunder. Hope looked up at the dark sky. "I better hurry back before it starts raining. Thank you for letting me watch Emily! She's really sweet." Hope sent the little girl a small smile. "Bye, Emily!"

"Bye!" The blonde haired girl waved enthusiastically before rushing back into the house.

Veronica waved goodbye before shutting the door and locking it. She frowned. There was something off about this situation and she didn't like being confused. How could what Eleanor told her about Hope match up with the attitude and gentleness of the girl that she had just seen?

"Mum?" Veronica looked down to meet her daughter's eyes.

"What is it, Emmie?"

"Why did Hope have those lines on her hands?" Emily was frowning.

"Where they right here?" Veronica kelt down to her daughter's level and pointed to her wrist.

"Yes." The little girl hesitated. "They were also here." She pointed to her stomach. Veronica frowned.

"Why did you see her stomach?"

"She tickled me, so I tickled her back."

"I see." Veronica smiled at her daughter. "Don't worry about it, Honey. Some people just have those because they were made that way."

"Oh." Emily seemed to accept the explanation. "Okay!"

As Emily ran off again, Veronica worried her lip. The information she had about Hope was not adding up to a pretty picture. Scars on her wrist said something about the girl, but if there were scars on her torso as well...

Veronica wanted to see Hope again. She needed more information before contacting authorities. She looked at her watch. It was almost 3:00 in the afternoon. She would wait until her husband came home before making a decision. Maybe he would know what to do.