St. Mungo’s had a very distinct smell.
It didn’t smell like the normal muggle hospitals that Clover was used to.
Muggle hospitals smelled of cleaner and plastic and metal tools.
St. mungo’s smelled of freshly vacuumed carpet and freshly baked cookies. It had just a hint of fireplace-that-needed-cleaning and cat fur.
It smelled comforting, in a strange sort of way. It made her feel safe.
Although, Clover wouldn’t know what a home really felt and smelled like anyways.
Clover Jenkins had muggle parents. Her father was a banker and her mother was a lawyer. They were both constantly gone from home, and when they were home, they were irritable and regularly beat Clover.
Clover never thought this to be wrong or strange. It had been normal, even in her six year old brain. They never hurt her enough to leave scars.
Not until recently.
Clover had been playing in the garden (which was ridden with weeds) when her mother had come home. Despite being very young, she was expected to clean the house every day since her parents were never around to do so.
Her mother seemed to have had a particularly terrible day and screamed for her child to come. She had a belt in hand and unfathomable anger glistening in her blue eyes. Without any warning she had snapped the belt at Clover, the metal part catching her arm, causing a large gash to appear. She let out a cry of pain.
It wasn’t fair.
This wasn’t right.
This isn’t new. I small voice inside her head whispered to her.
This is normal.
You deserve this.
“No,” Clover whispered in a shaking voice. Her mother paused as she had reeled back to hit her once more. Clover’s light brown eyes darkened. “Stop,” she said in a voice she hoped was firm.
“Excuse me!?” The woman roared angrily. “You will not speak to me this way!”
And it was at that moment Clover had had enough.
A sudden burst of what seemed to be wind sent her mother toppling to the ground. The belt fell from her grasp, the metal part at the end (which was still stained scarlet from when it had drawn Clover’s blood) clanked on the wood floor paneling.
“YOU LITTLE BRAT!” her mother screeched, her voice seething with rage.
Clover started shaking all over.
She hadn’t meant to do that.
It scared her.
What was happening to her?
She took a few stumbling steps back as her mother got to her feet, her face screwed up into a horrible scowl.
Clover threw her arms up in defense as her mother went to slap her.
Another blast of energy threw the woman back and into the wall.
Clover stared at her shaking hands. Her eyes were widened with panic.
Why was this happening?
And what scared her even more was that she felt satisfaction at what she had done to her mother.
Clover stumbled back again and fell on her bum with a thud. The fireplace suddenly roared up with fire and out stepped a woman.
The small child let out a screech of fear. “Oh dear goodness,” said the woman. “No need for such sounds. I’m here to help.”
“H-Help?” Clover stammered. Despite the woman’s claims, she still scrambled back as she stepped toward Clover.
“I’m Willow,” the silver-haired woman said in a gentle voice that was completely new to Clover.
The black-haired girl seemed to relax a bit at the tone of Willow’s voice. “I’m...I’m Clover...” she managed to squeak out. “What’s...what’s happening to me? Why did I do that?”
“Nothing’s happening dear,” Willow said, a smile playing on her pink-colored lips. She held out a hand. “I’m going to take you to a hospital now so we can take a look at the nasty gash you’ve got on that arm, okay?”
Clover got to her stubby legs and nodded. “Okay,” she answered.
The woman then lead her into the fireplace and they soon arrived at the wizarding hospital of St. Mungo’s, leading to now.
“Come now,” Willow urged. She went to grab for Clover’s hand, only for her flinch. This made Willow cast a look toward Clover, a boiling rage underneath the sad smile. “I won’t hurt you, Love,” she said gently, swallowing back the anger.
It was simply preposterous that this six-year old at her side would flinch at Willow’s attempt to take her hand.
It was unacceptable.
Willow grasped Clover’s hand and lead her through the hallways of St. Mungo’s. Clover’s hazelnut eyes darted back and forth, studying her surroundings and taking in as much as she could of the strange hospital.
“Quickly! Quickly!” Shouted a plump woman. She grasped a long stick tightly in her fist as she rushed down the hallway following by two floating stretchers containing two small children.
“My Stars...” whispered Willow. “These werewolf attacks are getting out of hand...But to attack Cygnus Lupin’s son....” the tall woman shook her head with disbelief.
Clover’s eyes were wide at the sight of the two children. Their faces scarred and crusted with drying blood.
And it was that moment she knew that she was different.
Her life would never be the same as it had been before.
A/N: Wow, this chapter’s a bit longer, eh? ;) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next few chapters will introduce us to more character as well as the beginning of their adventure. Can’t wait you guys! Love y’all!! :D
-Hugs and butterfly kisses, Lord of Potatoes
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