DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters of the Harry Potter universe, just the OCs. They all belong to J.K. Rowling, and I am not making any money whatsoever off of this piece of imagination.
From the moment I saw him, I knew. True, I was only 13, and he 16, but in a way, I felt different than I did around Harry or Ron or Fred and George. My heart would get all fluttery and my mind clouded over whenever I saw him with his friends or his guitar. Each time I tried to talk to him, I ended up sounding like an idiot and blushing furiously. And besides, back then he had a girlfriend.
Her name was Tiffany, and she was beautiful. Blond hair with black undertones, alluring blue eyes with thick black lashes, a curvy body and two lip piercings. She would always hang off his arm and flip her hair back as if to say, He’s mine. Ha. But that didn’t stop me.
Sure, he was three years older than me. Sure, he was what my parents called ‘inappropriate’ and ‘Goth’. Sure, by the time he finally noticed me he was of legal age. And sure, I only saw him during the summer. But I was determined to win his heart. And nothing would stop me.
It was the summer after my sixth year at Hogwarts when I saw him again. The two years before I had been away: one at Ron’s, one at Grimmauld Place. So I really didn’t remember too well what he had looked like when he first moved in. Well, I remembered his shocking green eyes, his dark black hair, and his many piercings. I remembered how I would be outside with a volleyball and he’d come over and help me on my serving technique. I remembered his kindness, his smell of Axe, his sweet yet cynical smile. And I remembered how much my parents hated him.
Yes, they hated him with a vengeance. They thought he was evil, a rapist, a junior killer, all because he was ‘Goth’. But in my eyes, that was what made him unique.
I was snapped out of my thoughts by my father. I didn’t even realize I had been daydreaming. We were about a mile away from my house, the house I hadn’t been to in such a long time. Two years.
I pushed my newly-straightened black hair out of my eyes. “Sorry, Dad,” I mumbled.
My dad sighed and turned to my mother. “First she comes home looking like someone completely different from our daughter, and now she doesn’t listen!”
I glared at him, but didn’t say anything. It was true that I looked completely different than before. My hair, magically straightened by Ginny, was dyed midnight black with thin streaks of blond (very cool!). It had also been cut to mid-arm length, making it lighter and sleeker on my head. I had finally started using makeup, but not too much, just a little eyeliner, mascara, foundation and lip gloss. My eyes had changed from dark brown to a hazel-green, and my form had changed from girl to young woman in just 6 months. I had gotten a labret piercing and an eyebrow piercing. And I couldn’t wait to get home.
I put my iPod in my ears and changed the song to The Beautiful Republic, a new indie band. I turned it up loud to block out my father’s droning voice and stared at the suburbs of London. Houses whizzed by with children playing in front of them, and teens hanging out with their friends. I closed my eyes and sighed. Home.
We finally arrived. The house looked exactly the same as I had left it, but there were flowers growing outside and a swing-set in the front yard. I looked at my parents curiously.
“What’s that doing there?”
My father looked at me and smiled. “Well, we wanted to keep it a secret, but….”
My mother covered his hand with her own. “We adopted a little girl.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
This seemed surreal. So now I would have to share everything with….a little brat?!
My mother smiled. “Well, she isn’t so little. She’s thirteen, a little bit younger than you. She’s quite nice.”
We parked in the driveway. I got out and slammed the door. I opened the trunk with fury, grabbed my suitcases and slammed that door shut too. I ran up the steps and into the house.
I sat down on the stairs and sighed. “Why did this happen to me?” I groaned. A little cough came from across the room.
I looked up. A little….thing was looking back at me. With blond hair, bright blue eyes, and the smallest body you’d ever see, clad in a pair of stonewashed jeans and a pink top. “You’re Hermione, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And who the bloody hell are you?”
The girl looked shocked at my language, but straightened up. “I’m Gemma. I’m your sister.”
I scoffed. “Sister? I don’t have a sister.” I grabbed my bags and stormed up to my room, slamming my door.
It was exactly the way I had left it, thank God. The dark blue comforter and sheets, the white walls covered with posters, the large bookcases, the walk-in closet. I opened it up and threw my bag in.
“No place like home,” I muttered, throwing myself unto my bed. I closed my eyes and sighed. “No place like home.”
A/N: Welcome to the repost! About half of my reviews for the original got deleted during the server crash, and I couldn't log on to my profile until today. So I hope all you readers, old and new, enjoy the new and improved version of Crossroads!
Oh, and be kind. Review. (=