73Hello! This is another Harmony Story! Hope you like it!
I sadly do not own Harry Potter. =((
This is the Real Me - The Philosopher's Stone
Chapter 1: Goodbye
It's time to go. Mio Versenheiuch removed her freshly bruised cheek against the cold window. She didn't know if she could still last staying in her own house right now. Fine. I'll stay with Dud first, She said to herself. Skilfully climbing down the staircase without making any sound, she listened in to her parents' shouting in the kitchen.
"Trixie, I do not like her in my house!"
"But Wendell—"
"No buts! One more incident like that, and she'll get more than that bruised cheek!" The nine year old girl sighed heavily as she realized that she was the reason her parents are fighting. Again. And she didn't blame them for it. After all, it was around her that odd things start to happen. Not around them. So, in a twisted kind of reason, she was at fault. Mio was able to reach the front door when a glass bottle flew and broke on the surface of the wall inches near her. She let out a small whimper, before throwing open the door, and crossing the driveway to Number 4 of Privet Drive and ignoring her dad's shout of "Come back her, Insufferable girl!" Dud lived just across their house. He was a humongous kid with little neck and a pink face. Mio removed her hair tie absently, letting her dirty blonde hair tumble down to her shoulders, and hiding her bruised cheek. Dud might be a bully, who liked to prank her once in a while, but he was the only one, who didn't shun her out because of her bookworm tendencies and her strangeness, and sometimes—you never know—he might act smart and notice her bruise.
She knocked on the door, still breathing heavily. A chubby face with a little blonde hair appeared at the doorway. Dudley Dursley grinned, his chest sticking out. "Coming over again, Mio?" She nodded, her eyes skimming the form of Auntie Petunia, who was preparing breakfast. "Mummy! Mio's comin' over!" He shrieked, making her deaf temporarily. "Come on, you wasted um... uhh..." He looked at the clock, probably computing how many minutes she's been outside. Naturally, she decided to help.
"I've been outside for five, now six minutes. Remember, there are four minutes between two numbers in the clock." Dudley scowled. He hated it when Mio acted as smart as she really is. " Let's go upstairs."
A green eyed boy groaned as he heard footsteps on the wooden staircase. She's staying over. Harry Potter was locked in Dudley's second "bedroom"when the doorbell was rung. Again. Staying in his cupboard would be better, because he had an actual bed, along with his things there. If only Aunt Petunia allowed him to actually move here along with his cot and belongings, he would be eternally grateful, and comfortable. Now he needs to try getting comfortable on his position, sitting with his back flat on the door. He disliked Mio Versenhue or whatever her name is, because he always gets locked in this storage room for hours until she leaves. Dudley doesn't like his only girl friend associating with him, his freak cousin. He was called that because well, he was as abnormal as the Dursleys were normal. Harry wondered that if his parents didn't die in that car crash, he might beliving a better life right now. Away from Dudley, whose favourite hobby was Harry Punching. Away from the Dursleys, who absolutely hated him. Right when his fury escalated, he heard a loud clang right above him where the doorknob should be. Suddenly, he was sliding backward, and after a loud SLAM! Pain flared at the back of his head, and he opened his eyes, only to find wide chocolate brown eyes staring back confusedly at him. Mio leaned down on him, strands of her golden hair falling away from the curtain around her face. She was probably wondering who he is. Harry turned his head to the side, jerking when he saw Dudley's purple face. It promised a huge Dudley tantrum and Harry Hunting time later. The eight year old boy glared at Mio, deciding that he hated her now completely.
2 years later, September 12
Mio Versenheiuch shut the door of her room with a loud bang that can be heard probably up to the Dursley's kitchen in number 4. She wasn't having the best of a day. Fury was consuming her, but underneath that, there was an ocean of sorrow. How could her parents lie to her face for all this years? This just couldn't be happening. It just can't be. Seeing the smallest bedroom's window in the Dursley's only brought bad memories about the other boy. Potter. It's been two years since they first met, and now they hated each other. The girl frowned. Mio can't believe anyone could be so mean, so... Wendell Versenheiuch! He was almost exactly like her father in terms of how badly they affect her self-esteem and confidence. She was only turning eleven for Christ's sake! Fresh tears welled up on her eyes. Potter avoided her, snapped at her when she talked to him, and that was about school projects! He disliked her... Her 'father' hated her as well... Was she really that detestible? That people loathed her so much with a passion? She bumped her head backwards to her door, and cried for hours.
When her eyes ran dry, a look of hollowness filled her once warm brown orbs. She became rigid as she grabbed everything she possessed, which fitted into two trunks, and dragged them down the stairs, the sound of it deafening. If this is what her father wanted, It's what her father would get. Her mother? She. Didn't. Care. About. Her. Maybe she can even bring joy to Potter because of this. At the end of the stairs, an old man waited for her, and she took his hand. Glaring at Wendell and Trixie Versenheiuch, she said in a cold voice, "Take me away from this place. Please." The man smiled sadly, before squeezing her hand. She looked one last glance at the people she's known for eleven years, tears silently falling down her face. Her father muttered, "Good Riddance." The old man seemed to sense her almost breaking resolve, so he left.
And Mio Versenheiuch disappeared from Privet Drive. Forever.
Among all the people who entered the little bar in London, no one paid attention to the two people who did. One an old man, one a young girl. They weren't bringing anything, nothing. As soon as they eneter, however, the young girl sank to her knees and broke down. The old man just rubbed her back, the shine in his eyes receding. He had never seen anyone so distraught and so... innocent. The bar's occupants did not notice them until after a minute, or an hour, it seemed to last forever, the sad girl stood up shakily, her hand on the old man's arm a little too tight. "Mio... We have a place for you to stay. We can take a look at your account now, if you like." The girl shook her head. "Please, not now. And... I think we Mio died when we left that house. Mio Versenheiuch is dead,and I'm not her." Her eyes took on that haunting look of hollowness again, but a spark of determination caught the man's eye. He smiled, and patted her arm. In the drone of the voices in the bar, the man spoke two words that made the girl formerly known as Mio Versenheiuch smile. She took her first glance at her surroundings, though quite sorrowfully—It would be long before she gets over her parent's abandonment—and muttered in her high pitched voice:
"Goodbye, Mio."
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