Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Harry Potter! If I did, I wouldn't even be righting this fanfiction story!
Chapter 1: Perfect
I stared at myself in the mirror, scrutinizing my appearance. The bright, almond-shaped emerald eyes; the rich, dark red hair, glowing like fire; and the pale and flawless skin with just a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. I was beautiful. I was strong. I was perfect. I could do anything and everything.
I lived in a decent house in a small town in London, England. My family consisted of my mother, Victoria Evans, my father, John Evans, my older sister, Petunia Sandra Evans, and me, Lillian Victoria Evans. My gorgeous mother was an artist, and an amazing one at that. When she drew, she drew from her heart and from her soul, paintings with vibrant colors, bold, dark, majestic, and mysterious. She taught me everything that I needed to know. She was my mother, my best friend, my counselor, and my tutor.
My dad was….nobody. He spent his nights bouncing from bar to bar, sleeping with every woman he could get his hands on. When I found out just exactly the kind of person my dad was, I was shocked beyond belief. How could he cheat on someone who was as wonderful as my mother was? My mother, who has an uncanny way of finding out everything, knew what was going on. And yet, she didn't do anything. I asked her why, one day, and she simply said, "When the time comes, my flower, the gods will punish your father, and justly so." I was ten at the time and did not completely understand what my mother had said. I did not know, at the time, that eventually, we would be one short a family member.
My older sister was beautiful, too. She had my dad's snowy white blonde hair, which flowed gracefully down to her waist. Her big eyes were the bluest I had ever seen, like sapphires, and her skin had a lovely bronze tan too it, like that of a swimsuit model. She was 19 years old, just four years older than I was. She attended Oxford University, a very prestigious university in England. In fact, it was one of the best, and as always, my family always gets the best. Petunia was studying to become a poet, just like my mother wanted her to be. "You have a wonderful talent, my dear," my mother had said one night two years ago in that sweet, lulling voice of hers. "You can paint wonderful pictures with just a pencil in your hand and a notebook in your lap. This is your calling, Pet. Now go for it." And as always, my sister obeyed her. My sister had published three poems during her first year of college, each one selling in the millions, making my sister one of the most beloved new poets in London, England.
And I…I was me, a beautiful young woman of fifteen, and an aspiring artist. I was taught, by my mother of course, to hate everyone except your family. Never trust anyone except yourself and your family. Never make any friends, for they will only end up stabbing you in the back. Everyone was a liar and everyone was a cheater. The world was innately bad and only the Evans (minus my father) were the superior ones, the good ones, the flawless ones. And so, I had no friends except my mother and my sister. I drowned myself in schoolwork, my mother's teachings, and my artwork. I drowned myself in beauty and in perfection.
AN: I hoped you like the first chapter of my story. It's short, I know, but the other ones will be longer. Please read and review.