A.N. FOR THOSE WHO THINK THIS IS PART OF MY OTHER SERIES OF ONESHOTS ABOUT VIVIAN POTTER BEING LOKI'S WIFE... IT'S NOT!
Hello everyone! I hope you're not expecting regular updates of this story as… sorry, but you won't be getting them. I have a hell of a lot of homework, and I get writers block frequently. However, I will try to make my writing the best quality I possibly can. Please feel free to POLITELY remind me to update, as sometimes I get caught up in reading the wonderful fanfictions that this site has to offer.
CHARACTERS WILL BE OOC! BE WARNED. Dumbledore will be evil…ish, Ron will be a jerk a Hermione will be an annoying know it all.
I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON OR HARRY POTTER, other otherwise Harry and Hermione would have SO got together!
Life wasn't fair.
Vivian Potter knew that.
She had known that at two when the only person to remember her birthday was Millie the house elf.
She had known that at three when Millie had been dismissed for fraternising with 'that girl'.
She had known that when at four she had memorized the encyclopaedia of charms only to have her mother slap her for being special.
She had known that at five when her father had regaled her with tirades about how stupid, useless and pathetic she was, and then told her brother, Harry, that he loved him in front of her.
She had known that at six when she first practised wandless magic and found the rush of power so liberating… only to freeze up in terror the first time she tried to use it on her family.
She had known that at seven when her father had first abandoned her in a nearby town, and then sworn when she found her way back to the Potter home.
She had known that at nine when her mother had first fired the majority of the house elves and set Vivian to work, whilst she read her brother a story.
She had known that at ten when she had had first learn how to turn off her emotions, only to have her mother insult her 'dead eyes'.
She had known that at eleven when she had been sorted into Ravenclaw, losing the only chance she'd ever had of her parents accepting her.
She had known that at twelve when she had performed a sixth year spell, only to have her brother complimented for making his match silver.
She had forgotten that very briefly at thirteen when she had made her first friend in a vague younger girl, Luna.
She had remembered that at thirteen when her companionship had directed her own bullies towards the quirky blond.
She had been reminded about that at thirteen when her brother had spread rumours about her being the heir of Slytherin, which resulted in two weeks in the hospital wing where even Madam Pomfrey was disgusted by her.
She had known that at fourteen when she had finally reported her abuse to Dumbledore and he had simply smiled, patted her on the head and walked away.
She had known that at fifteen when her name was drawn from the triwizard tournament and she had been faced with three angry schools.
She had been assured of that when she had been portkeyed to a graveyard, tried to smash her way through an anti-apparition ward, been knocked out, had her blood taken, and been able to get around the ward, only to return to Hogwarts to find her parents fussing over Harry's lost owl.
She had known that at sixteen when her parents had tried to perform a ritual to transfer her power to Harry, only to drive Harry into a three month long coma whilst she spent time away from the house involuntarily.
She had known that at sixteen when her only friend had been transferred to Salem after her father discovered the severity of her bullying.
And she had been certain of that fact when she stared into the eyes of Lord Voldemort, faced with the knowledge that she was the real chosen one, only to glance over at her parents and see nothing but loathing in their eyes. And with that, the last flame of hope that Vivian Potter had been nursing since she was a babe, died.
And with a flash of green light, so did Vivian Potter.