I never wanted to be normal. I loved the attention, always wanting to stand out and be different, someone. But I couldn't sing well, couldn't act but I was and am a terrific liar, and my grades were mediocre at best so I stood out in another way. My hair is pink, my eyes are yellow and I'm five feet and ten inches tall, six foot with my favorite boots. I wear short skirts and have big boobs and I'm hot, luckily; people always stare and I love it. I look like my mother with full lips that were perfectly pouty with the right gloss and got me many free drinks, a d cup that got me into every bar and a heart shaped faces with large round gray eyes that off set my pale complexion and gave me a slightly innocent look when paired with my heart shapped face. I won the genetic lottery in looks and magical genes. I used to love it until that attention changed. My upbringing was complicated and so is my family, like many, however unlike many my family is ruled by politics and the 'old ways'. I am from one of the oldest and purest blood lines in America and like our British cousins believed they should rule the wizarding world. I was raised like that and learned to hate muggles at a young age, but I had my own reasons.

Its both nice and strange when you reach your twenties you can look back and observe your behavior, thoughts, actions of the past. You understand them but at the same time you ask yourself why had you been so childish. Sometimes I wish I could go back and do it all over again, fix relationships and people I had hurt and utilize the time I had better. If I had known then what I know now there are so many things I would do differently. But If I had to go through all of that in order to become the woman I am now, I wouldn't change a thing.

In the end I was lucky, I survived. I lost so many loved ones along the way but he is dead now and I had much to do with it. Now I have the fame and glory I always wanted. If only I had known the price. But I wasn't always like this, once upon a time I was reckless and I wanted die. I did everything to escape the pain. That is where we will begin, before I came to Hogwarts and Dumbledore changed my life.

Music pounded through the house as hot, sweaty bodies pressed against each other moving with the music that shook the frames on the house. A girl grabbed her dates red plastic cup and downed the contents, not tasting whatever alcoholic beverage he was drinking. She laughed, feeling slightly dizzy, pressing her body against his, and swaying her hips. Someone pushed something into her hand, it was Bird; the white pill began to melt in her sweaty hand. She tossed it into her mouth, swallowing without a thought. It wasn't long before she felt like she was soaring, each throb of the music sounded like it was in her, pushing. She felt hot, she screamed with laughter as she stumbled into someone. The night blurred by hot, dark flashing lights, loud music pounding in her chest and lolled her to sleep.

Light burned through her eye lids, severe and unforgiving, as it is with all hang overs and turning everything red. Her mouth was hot and dry and her stomach rolled as she adjusted her body to a more comfortable position. Nope, that made it worse, the girl struggled over the jeeps side and vomited, or attempted to. She had thrown up most of everything the night before.

"Shit, what time is it?" she shoved her hand down the front of her shirt. She was sweaty and felt dirty. Pulling her phone out of her bra, November 7, a Friday 11:15 am. Well, she was definitely not going to school today. There were also three missed calls, Angie, Val and Aunt Wendy.

She sat up observing her surroundings, the jeep she was sleeping in the passengers seat of was parked out in the middle of the woods. Opening the glove compartment she dug around the junk until finding it. She pulled out the registration, Nathan Carson, the name didn't ring a bell.

"Hello!" she shouted and waited a few minutes but there was no answer. It wasn't long before nature called, and a few minutes after she heard someone crunching on the gravel. A guy, wearing a black wife beater and saggy washed jeans was carrying two red gas containers.

"Yo, Pinks." It was Greg.

"Fuck dude, you scared the shit out of me. You should have at least left a note," he laughed at that.

Her phone buzzed again, she pulled it out, Wendy.

The smell of gasoline assaulted the air as he poured it into the jeep.

"I was so fucked up last night, that was an awesome party. We're just down the street from Burgsville, we only made it about a mile before my gas ran out. I passed out right after we pulled over."

Her phone buzzed again, it was a text from Wendy.Please answer.

"Bitch keeps calling me from her fancy phone," she scoffed.

It was past one when they got back into Dallas, Wendy and Brian were both at work and their kids, Haylee(17) Connor and Caleb (14) were both at school. All three of them went to St. Joesephs, a catholic school. All three of their kids were perfect. Non of the three children showed even an inkling of magical potential. Her squib aunt and muggle husband had been blessed. They loved everything not magic and abhorred everything that was, including their niece.

The house was huge, six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a pool, game room etc. Wendy and Brian Herman, both had excellent jobs one was a nurse and the other a divorce lawyer, they were the perfect family. They even had a golden retriever named Mini. Pinks, tromped up the stairs and to her room at the end of the hall. The halls were perfect, a light blue on top and a cream color on the bottom; they were decorated with pictures of the family. There was even one of her when she was little, smiling and wearing a purple sundress while eating a Popsicle. She was about seven in the picture. That was taken the same week her mother had dropped dead. They thought putting it up would make her feel closer to the family. That was before she accidently set the couch on fire.

Madison glared at the picture. Wendy and her older sister Willow were from a pure blood wizarding family. Unlike Willow, Wendy had been born a squib. In a family like theirs that was the worst possible offense. At the age of eighteen Wendy was kicked out of the family and she made her own way after that. She hated everything magical. And when she was given custody of her magical niece, the prodigy child of political maneuvering and deceit. If she had not been a witch perhaps her aunt would have loved her and her cousins not feared her. But that had not been the case and she loved her magic.

Because of the Underage Magical Freedom Act between the hours of nine am and ten pm she was allowed to perform magic under the age of fifteen, but she had just had her birthday in February, on the premises of the house that was her permanent residence. When she turned fifteen she would receive her witch's permit, if she passed all the exams, then she could perform a list of basic spells anywhere and anytime. It was very similar to a driver's permit or license. If she preformed a spell that wasn't among the accepted spells then she would lose so many points, depending on the spell and situation. If she performed a spell on a muggle, any muggle, it was automatic suspension and then there would be a hearing to determine the circumstance and severity of the occurrence.

That was the only thing she was careful about, she made sure she never took her wand out of the house, just in case of temptation. When she turned sixteen, performing a spell under the influence of toxins would receive automatic suspension and either a hefty fine or volunteer work. If more than one offense built up it could result in the refusal of a full license when she turned eighteen or possible arrest and time. Since the seventies the restrictions on underage magic had become more severe. And when she turned twenty a license would not be needed at all. Since none of her cousins had shown the least bit of magical ability Wendy had put a stop of all of her magic and had forced Madison to do so outside of her room.

She pushed open the door to her room, it was disgusting, in her aunts words. A pile of clean and dirty clothes sat in one corner of the room. Her bed, with its lavender and mint bed cover, was unmade. The walls were plastered with posters of plays she had never seen and little art projects she had never made. The bookcase was packed and nearly over flowing with old magic books she managed to keep secret from the rest of the house.

Unlacing her black combat boots she kicked them onto the pile of clothes and plopped down in the chair in front of her computer and logged on, it wouldn't log on. The internet was unable to connect. She lowered the screen of her red and black laptop. She has saved up every last penny of babysitting money to buy it earlier that year.

She cursed and pushed the computer away roughly, she had three hours to kill until the perfect little brats got home; Haylee, the blonde (bleached of course) cheerleader, and the twin swimming and tennis geeks.

She pulled out her phone and flipped it open, pushing send to call Val. It rang once then the annoying electronic voice came on telling her that this phone number was no longer in service, her phone had been shut off. Madison screamed and threw the phone across the room.

The house phone rang; she pulled the cordless phone out of the stand on the hall table.

"What?"

"May I please speak with Mr. or Mrs. Herman please?" the voice was pleasant and had the sound of an elderly man.

"Their at work, if your selling something hang on a sec, I know they left a credit card somewhere I just need to find it." She was about to head in the direction of their bedroom.

"That won't be necessary, I will call back at a better time. Thank you," and the line went dead.

"Whatever," she tossed the phone onto the table, not bothering to put it in the charger. There was leftover Chinese in the fridge, she would have gone over to Bird's but the spare car keys were gone, she already knew. And there wasn't another spare set, over the months Wendy and Brian had learned, the hard way, how to make sure they were thorough. The door slammed open then shut as she headed towards the stairs.

"I know your home Madison, now get your butt down here. I told you that all it took was one more time and you would be out. I was serious this time," it was Brian. Mrs. Nelson, the nosey ferret faced housewife neighbor that lived for gossip had ratted her out.

"Whatever," she muttered and sat down on the workbench in the game room. She could hear him drop his keys on the table and walk softly up the stairs. She stood, getting second thoughts about confronting him. He hadn't taken his shoes off, he was really mad.

He was one of those strange people that had a thing about wearing shoes inside. In his mind it as almost equivalent with a mortal sin.

He caught sight of her, she turned to walk away, "Take one more step and I swear I will kill you." He was breathing heavily, teeth clenched, from held in anger. She rolled her eyes, that was the once a week threat.

"Screw you Brian," she began to walk away. She gave a small cry as she was jerked backwards by a sharp pain. He grabbed her by her long, florescent pink hair and shoved her into the wall, one of the pictures clattered to the floor. And this was the once a week fight. He hit her and she would hit back. Madison kicked back, her foot missed his knee by inches. He spun her around and punched her, she ducked and his fist connected with the side of her head as she jabbed towards his gut. Before backpeddling away, her ears already ringing and head throbbing.

"Wendy stayed up all night, you ungrateful bitch. When that whore dumped you on our steps I knew we would regret it. We spent a small fortune on your schooling, a a computer, therapy, all the lessons in anything you wanted. All because Wendy pitied you, she said you would out grow it, but I've had enough."

Madison laughed, she heard this every week and every day, "Whatever Brian, your tune never changes. Call me when it does, hey!" he grabbed her throat and kneed her hard in her stomach. Madison fell to the floor gaging, he kicked her hard. She arched her back stiffly and only caught part of it. He grabbed her by her hair and dragged her towards the stairs. She screamed as she felt the hair being pulled out.

"What the fuck! Let go you shit-faced-bastard," she stumbled as he pulled her towards the stairs, grabbing the rail. He kicked her in the back. She screamed as she grabbed onto one of the posts but lost her grip, the momentum sending her skidding to the bottom. She hit the cold tiles hard, her face smacking against it hard, splitting further open her already bleeding lip. It took her a few seconds to make her body move, she bolted for the kitchen and the back doors, something hard slammed into her back. Gasping she hit the tile floor again, the pain burned, throbbed and numbed.

She was really scared now; he had never gone this far. He discarded the small chair, the legs cracked and broken now. Brian grabbed one of her legs and dragged her across the hall to the dinning room, he flipped her over, a blood curdling scream ripped from her throat as something sharp and burning was slashed against her back, through her shirt Brian had gone psycotic, he had removed his belt and was whipping her with the metal part, the tongue cut into her skin.

She tried to move but he was pinning her down, the front door opened.

She heard Haylee's and Wendy's shouts as Brian got off of her. Madison heaved her body off of the ground, adrenaline kicking in and she forgot her pain and only saw Brian. She kicked out sideways, kicking him sharply in the side. Wendy screamed.

Haylee leapt on Madison's back, her nails leaving gouges down her right arm. Madison slammed her backwards into the table, Haylee gasped and let go. Wendy jerked one of Madison's arms behind her back and shoved her into the barrister, her cup of hot coffee searing down Madison's leg as it was dropped onto the pink tinted tiles.

"Madison, go to your room and pack your bags now," Wendy let go and tore herself away, going to attend to her poor brave husband and her perfect daughter.

Madison turned and spit at them before running to her room, refusing to let them see her cry. As the adrenaline began to fade she felt every blow and scratch. Her body ached, her back burning. Her sobs grew panicked and uncontrollable. Moving carefully she undressed and walked carefully into the bathroom. The now red blotches would later turn into a series of rainbow bruises. The bruises from a scuffle earlier in the week were now beginning to turn yellow. There was a cross shaped cut on her cheek from her face hitting the corner of the tile and grout on the floor. Her lip was already swelling and broken, her right eye was growing puffy.

Turning on the hot water she locked the batroom door and forced herself under the water. It burned the cuts and grew near unbearable as she washed them with soap. At some point while she was in the shower her aunt had left a trunk and several pieces of oldand worn luggage bags in her room.

Wrapped only in a towel she began to pack. Her black shirt laid on the bed, the back of it was ripped and bloody. She was terrified, he had truly tired to kill her. She didn't even bother to fold the clothes, just balled them up and threw them in the bottom of the trunk. Wendy had probably saved her life. Madison filled the trunk with her favorite books, jewelry box and pictures. On top of it she threw her photo album and most of her clothes. The rest went into a large black, indistinguishable duffle bag. Lastly she carefully folded her pink afghan from her grandmother and an old bright pink penguin her mother had bought her in Chicago from the Aquarium when she was five. She laced on her black boots over the leggings. Pulling on a ruffled pink and black plaid skirt and lacing up a black corset, over the soft pink tube top, causing the lacerations on her back to burn badly. This was one of the few tops she could wear without a bra, the corset was rigid and gave plenty of support while binding her bruised and cracked ribs. The dark eyeliner and eye shadow stood out against her light Texas tanned skin and her steel blue-gray eyes. It also helped cover the growing black eye. Her door opened, it was Caleb.

"Mom said your taxi is here," he was about to leave and turned around, "I don't know what you did this time but I don't care. It will be nicer when you gone, mom said you're not coming back later," he smiled. Caleb and Connor were exact miniatures of their father, blonde hair, green eyes and complete pricks.

Madison gave him a cold look, "Fuck you, fuck all of you," she shoved the hoodie on over her head and pulled out her wand. Flicking it her bags floated up and followed her down the hall and to the door, where she dropped them. The taxi driver came out and helped her load the ten-ton trunk, and two duffle bags into the trunk of the car. She climbed into the back seat cradaling her backpack and oversized purse, after silently receiving a large, thick manila envelope from her aunt.

As the taxi pulled away from the curb she untied it, inside was her birth certificate, social security card, pass port, one plane ticket, a credit and debit card and a folded piece of paper.

We will report you missing tomorrow. Don't ever come back.

That was all it said.

"Nearest atm please."

She maxed out the card, taking out as much cash as she possibly could then emptied out her savings account.

She gave the cabbie a hundred and told him to take her to the airport. It would take about half an hour to reach it.

She sat down on the nearest bench after entering and opened the folder. Her mother had abandoned her when she was little and she had no idea where she was. Her father, had been British. Supposedly he still had family alive in London and had been wealthy. This was her only chance.

Stowing her wand in her trunk she purchased a ticket to Heathrow airport in London, England.