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Anglophobia: A Story Of A Death Eater by noraxslytherin
Chapter 1 : The Worst Daughter
 
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PROULOUGE

This is my story about being a death eater. All of it is real, I may be old but I’m sure as heck not senile yet. My story starts back when my parents, Stephan Ivory and Glenda Capper, were born here in Salem, Massachusetts in the United States of America. However, between the years of 1900-1917, the years in which my parents where scheduled to attend Salemandra Academy of Witches and Warlocks, Salemandra went under construction. 

As a result, my parents were sent to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as did many other students from Salem. After school had finished, and need I add that both my parents were prefects, heads, and top of classes, they were married. They both then came back to America where my grandparents died, leaving an enormous estate and wealth for my parents. My father owned a large business in Stingur Alley, where he owned several big shops. 

I was born and named Isabelle Elizabeth Ivory, Isabelle after my dear grandmother whom I never met, and Elizabeth after my other grandmother, who was a real snob. I learned all the things proper lady’s of the time should have learned like horse back riding, Latin, French, English, art, music, writing, reading, and stitching. I never thought they were much fun but I had my other friends to keep me company. Melanie Celestine was my best friend. We would always sleepover each others houses that we practically lived there. 

At the age of eleven years old, we both went to Salemandra and met other people, but we stayed close to each other. People thought we were sisters because of that. However, one day in third year, I witnessed a big bully by the name of Mary Robinson curse some first years. My temper rose greatly when I saw her curse one of the most innocent first years I know. I forgot all about my magic and jumped on her, beating her to the floor and blindingly punching her everywhere. Big mistake. I got expelled. 

But the real story begins between the years 1941-1945, when I first arrived onto the Hogwarts Express. I was self destructive, depressed, alone, and most of all scared. I wanted a way to make myself suffer; cutting my wrist open wasn’t hurting enough. So I got entangled in the worst mess with the worst crowd. Tom Riddle didn’t save me, he just found me a new outlet to suffer in.


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CHPT.1

The silence was terrifying as I sat there waiting for who knows what to happen. The top most stair in which I sat creaked noisily and echoed in the huge manor as I cursed myself for moving. So here I was, waiting for the huge decision to finally occur. Would I be allowed back at Salemandra or would I have to attend school elsewhere? I couldn’t believe me, Isabelle Elizabeth Ivory, the joy and pride of Salemandra Academy of Witches and Warlocks and the brightest of the bunch, had been expelled from school. It wasn’t my fault that I accidentally hit a girl so hard she lost her memory permanently. It also wasn’t my fault that she had been a horrible bully to those little kids. I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I knew who to blame-my stupid, stupid temper. It would never come to good use.

I quickly gave up on sitting down on the stair trying to hear what was going down below between my parents and the school council, especially since I knew they must’ve used a silencing charm. Instead I swiftly got up and walked into the bathroom. I realized my hands were sweaty and my face flushed crimson. Splashing ice water on my face didn’t help much either, I noticed as I studied my face. My dark black hair was in a messy ponytail and my eyes reflected my mothers, which were gray like the moon on a clear day. My skin was well-far from the color skin should be. It was porcelain white and no matter what I tried to do, tanning my skin was impossible.
“Isabelle! Come down here, please!” I heard my mother yell up the stairs. Rarely anyone called me Isabelle, even my mother. She preferred to call me Belle, as did everyone else. But when she used my real name I knew she wasn’t too happy. I sighed and putting on a determined face and not expecting much good, I headed downstairs fast.

I walked into the formal living room as fast as I could. Well, too bad my clumsiness caught up with me as I hurtled into the room tripping over my own legs and then choking on my spit. After five minutes of panic, everyone had calmed down except me. Of course, my face was redder than ever as I stumbled gratefully into a stiff armchair in the corner, careful not to look at anyone.

“Ms. Ivory, I’m sorry to say you will not be attending Salemandra anymore.” Someone said. As I looked up I pinched myself to stop from laughing. He was very big and had on a pair of robes to tight on him, showing all his ugly features. He was sitting uncomfortably in a small chair that belonged to our house elf. Well, belonged to our house elf. I bet that’ll be the last time someone sits in it.

“Isabelle, why are you smiling? This is not something to smile about.” My father said. His blonde hair was slightly dishelved as it always looked when he thinks hard. His twinkling blue eyes were giving me a calculating look that I knew all too well. Ever since my expulsion, my parents have been treating me like an atomic bomb that might go off in any second.

“I’m sorry. So where will I attend school? Well, that is if I’m still allowed to be a witch…” I said sadly. My mother raised her eyebrows. Her hair was a strawberry blonde color, which made me think where I got my black hair. Nope, bad time to start thinking.

“You’ll be moving to England to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” A wheezy voice said which belonged to a thin witch in the opposite corner. The words were followed by an awkward silence. I couldn’t believe I had heard right.

“Pardon me?” I asked, fearing the answer more than anything.

“You heard right, Isabelle. This is what you get for causing trouble.” My father said sharply. No point in explaining what really happened. My head was spinning as I blanched at them all.

“No-I-But father-Please-No-What if-PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME!” I shouted at them, tears rolling down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe I was crying in front of strangers, more over my parents. They all looked shocked.

“Isabelle, you will go with us tomorrow evening and-“

“NO SIR. IF YOU DON’T MIND I THINK YOU’VE DONE YOUR JOB. THIS IS A FAMILY AFFAIR AND I WOULD SUGGEST YOU HOLD YOUR TOUNGE OR YOU’LL WISH I WAS NEVER BORN A WITCH!” I screamed breathlessly. My vision was blurry as I took in my totally speechless parents and the frightened school council members.

“Isabelle, go to your room.” My father finally said stiffly.

And I obeyed gladly, thudding up the stairs, straight for my bedroom, which I started packing all my stuff in. Then, I lay on my bed till the tears stopped long enough for fear to engulf me. There was a knock at my door as my dad came in. I couldn’t see his face in the dark but his words hit daggers into my heart. For a while, he just stood there watching me.

“I’m ashamed that you’re my daughter.” He said finally, shutting the door behind him. It would have been far better if he had screamed at me. A fresh wave of tears started before I finally fell into a horrible sleep. 




A/N: please review if you've read, so i can continue happily.  [:


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