Under Your Spell {BreakingMyHeart} |HP| ~ Me, just an Orphan

- greek phalanx = kick ass
- romans rip it off
- cluster and a lot of spearing
- effective
- phalanx soldiers = top of the top. (v. v. v. good)
I glanced up from my notes and zoned back in to my teachers' lecture, only to realize he had written the homework up on the blackboard and people were packing up to leave.
"You hardly wrote anything," Trevor, my boyfriend, commented, quickly zipping up his black bag and flinging it over his shoulder, "You need to learn how to write faster."
"Atleast I can read my writing when I'm done," I laughed, snatching away his notebook and flipping it open to a random page, "Read me a line... Any line."
He leaned in closely and squinted, "I'm hungry..."
I frowned and raised an eyebrow, "What the Hell kinda history note is that?"
"It's nearly lunch," he snapped, "I'm... hungry."
"Apparently."
He waited for me to shove the rest of my books into my backpack, then grabbed my hand, and we walked together to the lunchroom.
History is my favourite subject. Mainly because it's the only class I have with Trevor, but also I just find everything about it fascinating.
We fit nicely together, Trevor and I. We both have blue eyes, though mine are quite a bit darker then his will ever be, and we both have black hair. While his is shaggy, and in desperate need of a trim, mine is usually hanging loose down my back, a little wavy.
Trevor is in shape, quite the contrast to me, in a manner. He plays nearly every single sport our school offers, and will sometimes go down to the sports club and join a team for a season or two. Coaches are dying to get him onto their teams. His arms are toned, as are his legs, though he constantly complains they look flabby, when I just think it's all the muscle. His skin is tanned, something that I don't think mine will ever be. I try very hard, don't get me wrong. I go to the poor beaches in our area with a few girls on the weekends, when it isn't raining, and we lay in the sun for hours. At the end of the day, I'm red as a lobster (corny example, I know). For a few days I get my hopes up, then they are dashed when the sunburn fades away and I'm left with my pale skin.
I am in shape, since I do a lot of housework.
Back to Trevor and I. He's tall, I'm short.
I like vanilla, he eats chocolate ice cream.
I like rock, and thankfully so does he.
We both have the same best friend, and share the same circle of close friends.
We're best friends.
Ever since I can remember we've been hanging around with each other for as long as I can remember.
Well, for as long as I've lived in this town, which has only been the past eight years.
Doesn't matter, we're still friends forever. He's the sweetest, most caring boy I've-
"Sweetie, I think you should come running with me," he chuckled as we picked out some sandwiches from the lunch line, "It would really help toughen things up for you."
"Are you calling me fat?" I inquired, planting my hands on my hips and quirking an eyebrow. He groaned and I could almost see him mentally slap himself, "No! No! It's just, you eat all this junk, and you don't exercise, at all!"
I glanced down at my food tray on the rack, and rolled my eyes, sliding it along as the line moved ahead. Just because I bought a cookie and a doughnut doesn't mean I am getting fat. That was just today. I eat well-balanced meals at home.
Honest.
"Maddy, you know I'm kidding," Trevor pressed as I handed over a few coins to the lunch lady. I shrugged, "If you say so."
I smirked and hurried off, my feet leading me toward my usual table near the back of the room.
"You seem smug," Sam, a brunette who has played on Trevor's football team since they were six, commented as I settled down, shooting him another grin. He chuckled and began to add some mustard to his sandwich, "He called you fat again, didn't he."
"Oh yeah."
"I wouldn't let him get away with that, if I were you," Laurie stated, taking a huge bite of her hotdog a la cantine. I shook my head, "He doesn't mean it."
Laurie is my best friend, my best girlfriend, and Trevor's best friend since they were both in preschool. I suppose I was the one who joined into the group after everything, but the three of us were a trio. Before Sam, who's full name was Samson, and Henrik, our other friend came along, it was just the three of us.
All of us have nicknames, sadly. Laurie is sometimes only Lore, Samson is always Sam, Trevor is called Trev, and Henrik is called Heineken.
It was a very drunken night that gave birth to that nicname.
My full name is Madeleine Lily, but I hate it completely, so I stick with Maddy, and anyone who calls me by my full name gets a pounding. Well, almost anyone.
"So did anyone get that bio homework?" Sam asked when Trevor finally sat down beside me, trying to catch my eye. I swallowed my bite of cookie, "Yeah... But I left it at home. Ms. Schnitz nearly shot me when I told her."
"She's been in such a horrible, rubbishy mood all week," Laurie commented, rolling her eyes, "She kept me after school just because I was rocking on my chair."
"You're going to break your neck one day," I chuckled, "And I won't be there to hold your hand..."
"We'll all be laughing too hard," Sam stated, shooting her a grin. She glared at him and smacked him harshly on the arm, only causing him to laugh.
Trevor's hand touched my leg, "Sweetie, I didn't mean you were fat-"
"This jerk calling you fat, again?" Henrik asked, squishing in between Sam and Laurie, pushing his large, blue tray onto the table, "You're in for a round of my fists if you don't treat the lady with some respect."
Laurie chocked on her water and turned away, wiping away the bit that sloshed out of her mouth from laughing. Henrik was not exactly like Sam and Trevor. While the other two boys were into sports and rough housing, Henrik enjoyed spending time on his dad's expensive computer, and fixing his pathetic excuse for a car. He was the puny one out of us.
"Trev, I know you didn't mean it," I groaned finally, rolling my eyes, "You never mean it, so stop worrying."
He grinned his perfect grin and seemed to loosen up a bit, digging into the cantine made pasta. I shot it a disgusted look and took another bite of my doughnut.
Glancing to the table three rows away from us, I noticed we were getting the typical glares from a few of the "popular" girls as they nibbled delicately on their carrot sticks.
Laurie and I are not in the popular, pretty trend of people. We don't go shopping everyday of the week, and we didn't lose our virginity when we were like... seven to our teachers. Laurie always dresses oddly, usually wearing huge dotted or striped socks in loud colours, and whatever mismatched outfit she can find in her closet. Her nails change colour almost weekly, and each nail is always the extreme opposite of the one next to it.
I love her style.
I'm more of a relaxed sense of style, I suppose. I wear a pair of jeans, flip-flops in the warm weather, boots or converse in the cold weather, and a shirt with some sort of design on it. I'm very mellow when it comes to clothes.
Most of the "popular" girls have crushes on either Trevor or Sam. When I started dating Trevor, it was almost unbelievable how far they would go to try and get him to cheat on me. He didn't, of course, so we both found it amusing to see what they would do next. Sam is very closed off about his love life, and no one knows quite who he likes.
He's their one glimmer of hope.
The "popular" girls, who no one really likes anyway, think girls like Laurie and I should only associate with guys like Henrik, the 'nerd' of our grade.
It sickens me.
"Did you guys get that community service hour announcement in homeroom this morning?" Henrik inquired, changing the subject. I frowned, "No? My homeroom teacher never tells me anything..."
Although we live in England, I attend an international school, which means we've got a host of nationalities here. Trevor is Scottish, so not exactly exotic, but Laurie is from New Zealand, Sam lived in Spain before moving here, even though his family is American, and Henrik is from Switzerland. We aren't exactly the group with the most variety, but we've got some.
"I know," Laurie groaned, "Stupid cow can never be bothered to read the bulletin... I've missed three choir meetings because of her!"
"Back to me!" Henrik said loudly, clearing his throat, "There's this... um... project they're starting in Wilton, a building project. If we help out, we'll finish all our community service hours for this year, and Ms. Kanley said we may be able to push for our hours for next year."
I straightened up, my full attention on the conversation. I have such a hard time finding the time to get my community service hours, and at the moment I have a grand total of three out of the twenty-five I need, "So what are they building? If it's a new mall..."
"It's an orphanage," Henrik said quietly, "I wasn't too sure if you'd want to do it... If you don't that totally cool... We won't either."
I stared at him and swallowed thickly, "W-Why wouldn't I be ok with it?"
I'm an orphan. My parents dumped me off in a horrible building when I was four, saying they needed someone to baby-sit me, and never came back. I stayed there for four years, until someone came for me.
I hated it.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Our one good day of nice weather had been, once again, tainted by the rain.
"It's late, again," I sighed as we huddled together under one umbrella, waiting for our trusty little bus to come pick us up.
The driver, Marge, has been driving the same route for nearly forty years, and she has never been on time, once.
Our bus was the small bus, since only a handful of us lived out in the country, and I suppose the bus company or whatever didn't think it was worth it to give us a real, full sized bus.
"I wish we had a car," Laurie grumbled from between Henrik and Sam, "It's almost sad how we still have to ride the bus... It smells like little kids when it finally gets to us."
The elementary and middle schools are let out forty-five minutes sooner then we are, which is a complete disgrace, and they use the same buses as us. Normally, there are coats left on the bus, pencil cases, and gum stuck between the window panes.
I don't even want to know how they accomplished that one.
"I'm working on it," Henrik groaned, his pale, thin hand shaking under the weight of the soaking umbrella, and no doubt the chilly air. Laurie rolled her eyes, "I wouldn't be caught dead in that hunk of crap you call a car... I'm saving up to buy one."
"I'm happy with the bus," I stated, "Late or not. It gets me home and that's good enough for me."
Trevor rolled his eyes and shuffled about from foot to foot, holding his silence. Finally, the rumbling of our trusty little bus echoed from down the street, and our group and the small group of other students gave a loud cheer and hurried to the side of the road, waiting impatiently in the rain as the bus rolled up, the door taking a second or so to open.
Sam nearly shoved me up the stairway and toward the back of the bus. I smirked when I heard Marge rambling on about how traffic was getting worse and worse these days. It was her typical excuse to being late.
I squished into the back seat and Laurie shoved Sam aside to sit next to me. We prattled on about the usual 'girl' stuff, which managed to get rid of the boys for us. It was always nice to have some 'us' time.
-*-*-*-*-*-
My stop was the last of the route. I lived the farthest away from everyone, and it was a lonely ten minute drive out into the country to get home.
Marge was always good for a chat, so once everyone was off the bus, I moved to the front seat to talk to her.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off at the door?" she asked, as usual, when we pulled to a stop, "You'll get soaked if you walk in."
The manor was a good two or three minute walk into the forest. The driveway had been cleared and leveled a long time ago, and the trees were kept at bay, but it was still a lonely walk through the forest.
I forced a smile and shook my head, "No worries, Marge. My sweater has a hood."
She glanced up at the trees and shook her head, "Don't think I like you walking through that alone... Why doesn't your dad ever come out to meet you?"
I swallowed and quickly answered, "He's a busy man."
"No one is too busy to meet their daughter after school in this weather," she grunted, pulling the long handle and opening the door, "Last chance, darling."
"Thanks for the ride," I stated, gathering up my things and pulling the blue hood of my sweater up and over my head, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Eight sharp."
Eight sharp would turn out to eight fifteen, but that didn't matter.
I shot her a smile and hurried down the large steps and out into the rain, my shoes and socks instantly becoming drenched when I stepped into a puddle. Slowly, I turned around and waved to Marge, something I usually had to do to get her to leave. She waved back, and with a loud bang, the bus was in motion again, continuing down the never ending road.
I dropped to my knees and ripped open my backpack, retrieving a pair of running shoes as quickly as I could. I removed my converse and stuffed them back into my bag and shoved my feet into the lightweight runners.
They always have been better for running.
I took a deep breath, then tore off into the driveway, my feet pounding loudly against the cement, causing the sound to stand out against the falling rain. It took a moment, but I finally heard it; the barking.
I looked back over my shoulder, my breathing growing very heavy, and I picked out the outline of the two family attack dogs charging towards me, their barking growing increasingly loud.
I wished I didn't have to run with all my textbooks in my bag, since they really did slow me down, but I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and tried to focus on getting to the door.
They were getting closer, but thankfully so was the house. The large shape soon towered over me, and I slammed into the door as I slid across the porch, then fumbled over the doorknob. It took me a moment or two, but I finally managed to get it open and I slipped inside, slamming the heavy door shut with all my might. I breathed a sigh of relief, then jerked away from the door when two loud 'thuds' came from the other side.
I wonder if the dogs just don't see the door, or they're so obsessed with getting me they are willing to do anything to get to me.
"Bloody Hell," I groaned, watching the shadows of the dogs through the window glass recede off onto the property.
"And that disgustingly unkempt thing would be my housemaid."
"The Muggle, Master?"
"Yes."
"Oh, dear."
I looked up and noticed a group of people standing in the foyer, mostly all in long, black robes. I shifted awkwardly under their stares, each seeming unfamiliar to me.
I frowned; he's never had people over before.
Finally, I picked him out from the crowd as he moved towards me, his robe also black, yet somewhat more elegant then the others.
My school life is much different then the one I live at home. At school, I have friends, and people who care about me. I'm outgoing and energetic. At home, no one cares, and I follow directions I'm given.
I said before I do a lot of housework...
That's only the tip of the iceberg.
-*-*-*-*-*-
When my parents abandoned me at the orphanage at the mere age of four, I didn't quite understand what was happening. All I knew was that I was in a place where I wasn't allowed to talk back, or I'd be beaten. I learned quickly, like most of the children there, that I had to respect anyone older then me, or suffer.
We had to be friends, the other children and me. We didn't have anyone else, so it was best to put all differences aside, most of the time, and enjoy each other's company.
Cleaning was the key activity taught at the orphanage, and we picked it up quickly.
I was never truly happy behind the walls of the dingy building, and when I was told someone was coming to adopt me, I was ecstatic. Finally someone out there wanted me, after years of being put down by my keeper.
A man dressed in black came for me, his hair greasy and his nose large. His name was Severus Snape, and as he sat in the office, signing the papers for my adoption, he spoke of nothing other then bringing me to a good home, where I was sure to find the love I deserved. They bought it.
I was released into Snape's care within a week, and I was excited to see my new home.
He brought me back to a dismal shack, where I lived alone for a little while, seeing him once or twice a week when he made sure I hadn't hurt myself in anyway.
At first I was confused, and I wondered why he had just bought me, then left me. When he finally did return, we moved houses, and settled into a large mansion, the very same one I call home today.
He told me he wasn't going to be my father. We weren't even going to have any relation. I had been adopted by a different man, Snape had signed Riddle instead of Snape when he was filling out the forms.
Apparently I didn't need to know anymore, and he enrolled me in St. Thomas International, in the elementary section, and it was then I met Trevor and Laurie.
He was not at home for a great deal of the time, and I only saw him breifly in the morning when I got up to go to school.
It never bothered me, since I had never really seen him much before.
I was told that it was my job to make sure the house looked spotless, and if it was not, he would enforce punishments.
Still scarred from the treatment I had endured from the orphanage, I cleaned. I cleaned until my knees bled from kneeling on the floor, scrubbing at a spot of dirt that never seemed to leave.
It's still there.
I was twelve when he told me he was a wizard. I did not believe him at first, until he finally took out his wooden wand and performed a few very painful hexes on me; I never doubted him again.
He lived with other wizards, at a school somewhere, and was a teacher. It seemed out of his cruel character to be a teacher, but I did not question him on it.
There was a whole society of wizards out there, hidden away in secret from the normal world. It scares me to even think at how large the population could be.
When I turned fourteen, during the summer, a man came to the manor. I was informed it was he that I had been legally adopted by, even though I could barely stand the sight of him. He was hairless, tall, pale, thin, and reminded me greatly of the snake, Nagini, who slithered around behind him.
According to Snape, he was the extremely powerful dark Lord Voldemort, and he was to be given my uttermost respect. I was to be his servant, catering to all his meals, cleaning his clothes, and doing every single little job he asked of me.
For the longest time, he never said a word to me, unless to tell me off for not doing something correctly. I said 'hello' and 'goodbye' to him when I departed for school everyday, and as the two years have passed, he is getting better.
Our first real conversation was almost a year after he had moved in. The subject matter was about my kind, Muggles. He asked me questions about the orphanage, stating it sounded much like the one he was raised in.
We bonded a little over the thought of both being orphans.
Only a little.
He's harsh when I make mistakes, and always unforgiving when I do something wrong. I try not to make him mad.
He comes home sometimes, very late at night, and wakes me from my sleep. Sometimes he takes me to the dungeons and curses me until I black out. Other times he asks me to make him something to eat, and I stand behind his chair until he finishes, then I clean up the dishes.
I usually pray for the second.
-*-*-*-*-*-
"You seem a mess," he commented, sweeping over to me, his eyes narrowing over my muddy pants and soaking appearance. I raised an eyebrow, "Yes... It does happen to be raining outside... It's sort of hard not to get wet."
"Get in here," he snarled, grasping the back of my neck painfully and shoving me towards the group.
I was guessing they were Death Eaters. He tells me about them sometimes, when he rambles about the happenings of his world. Apparently they serve him.
Like me.
"Madeleine," he stated, a hand gripping my shoulder tightly, "These people are guests in my house. Whenever they come, you will treat them as such, and bring them whatever they ask. Understood?"
My eyes traveled over the group of men, picking out one dark haired woman out of the bunch. I slowly nodded, "Y-Yes, sir."
"Good," he cooed falsely, turning me away and shoving me towards my backpack, which was still sitting on the floor in a bit of a puddle, "Now, dry off and make me a cup of tea. This weather is doing nothing for me. Also tend to the fires... This house is freezing."
I stumbled off, moving quickly to get my bag and hurry to my room. Luckily he understands I have homework, and only works me until eight at night. Once the bells finished tolling, I'm free to do whatever I wish, which most of the time is my homework.
"I think it's almost poetic," the woman purred as I pulled off my soaking runners and set them by the door, "Having a Muggle serve you? You make a prime example to follow."
"Of course, Bella," he chuckled, "I find it's only fitting. She's only an orphan, anyway. No one wants her."
I moved quickly towards the staircase, not looking at the blue eyes that followed me. I didn't want anyone to see my tears.
-*-*-*-*-*-
Tears.
Leave me a message in here, but also send me one over Quizilla. I just need to know you guys either liked or disliked the chapter.
< !-- BEGIN CBOX - http://www.cbox.ws -->