Hole Behind the Picture

"Godamnit! Bloody rain!"

Persephone Carless cursed in the midst of the downpour. Where the hell was this goddamn place?

Sixteen years ago, a darling baby girl with nothing in the world, save for a tea towel with 'Persephone' embroidered upon it came into the world. Her parents had given her up for adoption, and two eager parents, Eddie and Diane Carless, were only too happy to accept. The only catch? Their daughter's name was already chosen. And they had to give her an envelope when she was 'of age'. The Carless' were only too happy to comply; it was a small price to pay for their baby.

Life passed slowly, and happily. Persephone grew and matured, living in the world she knew, hidden away from the world where she was sired. She looked nothing like her mother and father, though that was to be expected. She was taller than them by age thirteen. She had short, curly black hair, similar to the movie 'Annie', and dark, intense eyes. Persephone was a decent student, keeping a B average, and she didn't get grounded more than once a week. But she did have a slight problem with lying. She had woven some rather nice stories, ones that had gotten her detention often. However, they had also saved her sorry ass many a time. She was a soccer player, albeit not a very good one, but she had fun. She hung out with the normal crowd; they drank every once in a while, like all teenagers, but never in excess. Basically, they were teenagers.

And then, the accident.

It was brutal. Her mom and dad had been out at a New Year's party. They hadn't been drinking. A drunken semi driver had hit them. Complete mess. Dead on impact. No chance.

Persephone had been floored by their death. Even living with her Aunt Jo, the best aunt ever, she couldn't stop thinking about them. Her entire fifteenth year on Earth was spent in and out of counseling, drawing suicidal pictures, cutting. It was a blur, pretty much, that year.

And then, in a last ditch effort to save her niece, Jo had given her the envelope.

Persephone had always known she was adopted; her parents had made that clear when she was old enough to understand, but she had never known about the envelope. Inside the rather large brown thing was a small, tatty tea towel with 'Persephone' embroidered upon it, and a piece of paper.

Persephone Black, it read, daughter of Regulus Black and Narcissa Malfoy, and underneath it, Twelve Grimmauld Place.

So now, here she was. It had taken her two months to find. Her brown car had been destroyed in the process, she had spent over three thousand dollars, and still, she could not find ruddy twelve Grimmauld Place. All she could see were a bunch of huge, rickety old houses. No numbers...

Unless...

Could those dirty, scuffed blemishes actually be house numbers?

Persephone wandered towards one. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, there it was. Persephone shrugged deep inside her torn raincoat, and wandered to the doorway. What an entrance, sopping wet, her curls soaking up water like a sponge. Perfect. She knocked on the door...