Taylor's Story

The pictures along the walls of Hogwarts seemed to blend together as Taylor ran through the halls towards the door that led outside at full pace. She had to get out. She had to be alone. She had to think - or rather not think. Images flew through her mind as she turned corner by corner. She just wanted to forget, why wouldn't anyone let her forget?

As she started down one of the many staircases, the inevitable happen, the tears came. Cursing the stupidity of emotions with an amazing style one would not expect a 10 year old to know, she futilely wiped at her face. Stop it, don't think about it, don't let it get to you. Nothing should get to you. You have to be strong, you are the only one left to be strong - These words ran through her mind almost as quickly as she did out the door.

The tears made it impossible to see anything, but she knew which direction she wanted to head anyway, she grew up at Hogwarts, afterall. Her breathing became rapid and the burst of adrenaline she seemed to get after the conversation with her mother slowly began to disappear. Numbly she climbed up into a tree - her tree - and pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in them.

In order to stop herself from crying she tried to think of anything but the reason she was doing so. It didn't work. Instead she ended up recalling to every last detail the conversation with her mother.

She woke up that morning prepared for the sorrow to come. Prepared for what happened every year on her birthday. It was the day her fath- no - that man finally defeated Voldemort. It also happened to be the day she was born. This year, she knew, would be epically bad. It was the tenth anniversary of the day, afterall. Most children her age couldn't wait for their birthday, she wished hers never existed, she wished she could scrape the day off the face of the planet. She wished she could obliviate all knowledge of the day whatsoever, but that was a foolish wish considering she would never be able to learn that spell. She may live at Hogwarts, but she knew that it would never be her school. It was simply impossible.

The sorrow that day did come, and she thought she was prepared. She thought she had made herself ready. She thought that everything would be fine. How very wrong were her thoughts.

The beginning of her troubles started when fireworks woke her up IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, for crying out loud. People were so intent of partying on that day that they didn't even care for the well being of anyone else. She sighed and got up, knowing she would not be getting any sleep that night. She stumbled in the dark towards the bathroom and took a shower. She ended up stepping out of the shower at one in the morning, fully awake and wondering what to do next.

Her thoughts turned to the outside fireworks, and decided to attempt to make the best of the day by heading up to the astronomy tower and watching them. As she headed up, she was suprised to see Filth's cat, Mrs. Norris, but paid her no heed and continued on her way. When she finally arrived at the tower she turned her head towards the heaven's and watched. As her bright blue eyes hidden behind metal framed glasses took in the sky above, her long black hair waved in the slight breeze of the night. She sensed another presence, and without turning back to see who it was she spoke up, "I thought you were staying away this summer."

The man was not startled by her knowledge that he was here. The girl always knew when someone was watching her. He chuckled, "I decided to cut the trip short. I brought you something from America, though. It's in my room."

If he noticed that she was distracted, he didn't say anything. He simply stood observing the small child standing quietly. He knew she would talk to him about what was wrong. And he was right. After a good minute she began to speak.

"Sometimes I wonder if he'll ever come back. Sometimes I think that, maybe, just maybe, if I were to do something great and wonderful, that he will notice and think it's all worthwhile. I think that maybe if I could do something... I dunno." She grew silent.

He took a step forward and said, "It's not your fault."

The child actually laughed at that, "Of course it's not my fault. Nothing's ever MY fault. It wasn't my fault Jamison couldn't save himself. It's not my fault he fell... but it is my fault that he left. I'm not good enough, I just can't be good enough. If I were, I would've saved him, I would have known a spell, something. But I'm this way, and it's my fault, Uncle Filth, my fault. I must have done something pretty bad in the past to deserve this life."

"Oh, so you think I deserve what I got do you?"

"Of course not!" Taylor knew the other children at the school hated Filth, but she also knew that was his job. Whenever she got into a bit of mischief she didn't particularly like him either, but he had always looked out for her, ever since she was a small girl.

"Taylor, the way I see it -" But he never got to finish his thought, for they both heard a loud holler from down the stairwell that led to the tower.

"Lillyanne Taylor Potter! Child, you better not be up there in that tower, so help me! Get down here this instant."

Taylor glared at the usage of her full name - no not her full name, her fake name. She quickly spoke to her 'Uncle', "I better go, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" At his nod, she yelled back at her mother, "That's NOT my name!" as she headed down the stairs.

And it only got worse from there. Thinking back on it only brought more tears to her eyes. How could she have said some of the things she did to her own mother, nevertheless! She wasn't the one she was angry at, she wasn't the one that caused all this trouble in her life! But she let out her anger on her, who else was she supposed to let it out on? Besides, it was her mother's fault she had fallen in love - if indeed she had - with him.

And what's worse is the way her mother actually defended him! She said things all the time like, "He had a hard life, he just couldn't handle it all." Taylor would glare back and say, "We have a hard life and you don't see us running away." She also knew that she shouldn't have mentioned Jamison that day, but she did.

Jamison would be seven that year. If he were alive. He died in a Quiddith accident when he was only five. Her father couldn't handle it. He left. And he would never come back. Then and there she promised that she would be the least like her father as possible. She changed her name from Potter to her mother's maiden name, Weasley, and acted what she thought her father would never act like. She already had one up on him - she would never attend Hogwarts, and would never call it her home. Not that she didn't wish she could. It just wasn't allowed. Not without good reason, for what good would Hogwarts do for a Squib?