Leaving the First Year Behind
⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧
♣ Date: 30/06/2026
The first year of Miren’s Hogwarts journey was over. Students of all ages with their luggage flooded the narrow corridors of the train. It wasn’t far-fetched to say they were ecstatic, full of new memories, chatting with friends both old and new. Well, at least most of them. Miren was one of those who boarded the train quietly, without the slightest hint of any emotion on her face. Just like she did months ago at the beginning of the school year.
Luckily enough, the girl found an empty compartment, where she could disappear from the dozens of her classmates in the corridors. Where she didn’t have to be so guarded. The door closed, and all the unnecessary stuff ended up in the luggage rack above her before she finally sat sideways on the red upholstered seat with her back against the window and her legs stretched in front of her.
She ignored all the smiling kids passing by her compartment behind the partly glass door, leaning her head back and closing her eyes instead. She should be happy too, just like every other twelve-year-old kid heading back home after months at school. But could she call the place, she was returning to her home? It sure didn’t feel like it. Rather than home it was more of a… Necessary refuge. A place she simply had to accept after her mother’s death. The woman she could only dream of returning to. It would be her aunt waiting for her at the station instead. And while she did her best to give Miren everything she might need, she would never find a way to the girl who had locked the whole world out a long time ago.
A vexed scoff left her mouth at the thought of her aunt’s open arms and a proud smile. Not because Miren would despise the woman herself, but because it was not her she wanted to see once the train stopped. With a sharp exhale, she grabbed an old book she had intentionally left out of her luggage earlier and opened it to the first page. The inscription in her mother’s neat handwriting was still there, wishing her a happy eighth birthday. Miren touched the black ink with her fingertips with a slightly softened expression. Only when the doors to her compartment opened again did she snap out of it and put on her usual distant mask.
♣ interractions: @Lauren Vanes
Leaving the First Year Behind
────────────────────────x❝i'm pathetic. i'm worthless. i'm undeserving. i'm a monster.❞
parselmouth. slytherin. the makings of a disgrace.x───────────────────────────────
parselmouth. slytherin. the makings of a disgrace.x───────────────────────────────
| yada yada yada | 𝕾omeone came charging at Lauren from nowhere, and she had to duck to avoid them. As she stood back up, swiping at her Slytherin robes angrily, she scanned the crowd for the culprit behind her messed-up hair. That morning, she had made it perfect, because she wanted to leave Hogwarts without having to embarrass herself because of the style of her hair. Cursing under her breath, she heaved her trunk and pulled herself towards the Hogwarts Express. Yet with every step came a sickening sense of dread. The Vanes manor was the one place Lauren would not dream of returning to, ever, despite the comfortability of her whitened room. It was quite unlike her true personality -- it was always white, despite the weather beyond the protection of the clear, crystal-like windows. It was always drenched in light, unlike everything in Lauren's life, unlike all the things that she had stood for -- which was not a lot, since she was undeserving, worthless, and a monster. Must the voices in her head persist even on the last day of Hogwarts? Must they continue to torture her and make her suffer, indifferent to all the pain she was bearing in the moment? Must they continue to ignore all that was going on in her heart, in the other parts of her mind, in her desires? Her brain was urging her to go back to the place where she had departed from -- the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which was the place that had felt more like home than the Vanes manor ever did. In the manor, it was all cold. Everyone and everything, except perhaps Aunt Loratrix, was harsh towards her. Everyone and everything hated her more than anything. Most of the time, the young Slytherin would have been dying to see her aunt again. She had been the one person in the family who had truly stood up for Lauren and encouraged her. The one woman who had supported her despite her status in the family and the growingly intense hate directed to those who showed even a tiny scrap of affection for her. She had loved her. She had, from a young age, taught Lauren to stand up for herself and never admit defeat. She had taught her to be a strong, independent woman, yet here her aunt was, cowering in front of the members of the Vanes family and begging for them to accept her once more. Loratrix Vanes had not necessarily been a favourite in her Vanes family. In fact, she was quite the opposite. Being a Slytherin and a Parselmouth, similar to Lauren herself, she had to deal with the intense hate and discrimination within her own family, to see her mother treat her siblings with such warmth and care, yet Loratrix would be neglected like dirt. The truth had been crystal-clear from Day One; yet, Loratrix 'Disloyal' Vanes had managed to switch sides and was being twice as beastly as the majority of the Vanes family was towards Lauren just to get back on their good graces. She had thought that her aunt was a remarkable woman, and had idolised her from when her family started to turn against her. That had happened when Lauren had singed the edge of her bedside table at the age of six, which the Vanes family deemed 'monstrous'. Then she had revealed to be able to communicate with snakes through a language called 'Parseltongue', which only fueled her parents, siblings and relatives' hatred for her. It was more intense than anything she had experienced ever before in her life. Anyone could have known that Lauren's life was not easy; it was, in fact, the exact opposite. Her family, though one of her primary worries, were not what made of her trauma, depression and anxiety. The voices in her mind had drained her deeply, and they had never ceased since the day Lauren started school at Hogwarts. They had claimed to replace Aunt Loratrix to guide Lauren around and make her feel more comfortable, at home, and 'safe'. But all they had done was to make her feel all the more insecure and ruin her life far more than it already was. Lauren Loratrix Vanes had never asked for all this. She never told anyone to bestow this fate upon her, to make her life as miserable as one of a beetles'; they had to worry about death constantly, and would find it hard to enjoy even a millesecond of peace. Lauren was no different. Her life was the definition of 'involuntarily miserable', and fate seemed to have no intention to change it. She wished that there could be some miracle to pull her away from the wrath of her family, but there was no such luck. There would never be, if her name continued to be Lauren Vanes. She sighed. Was there ever going to be an escape from all this? She was only eleven -- no, twelve, but she was still young. She had barely been twelve years and one month old, and was already suffering pain enough for a single lifetime. She watched gloomily as her classmates ever-so-enthusiastically chattered about their home life, their plans for the summer, how the year had been. She didn't have such energy. The only thing in her mind was the dread that loomed on ahead like a relentless cloud; it was determined to refuse her even a second's rest. Even a second's peace. Other students her age were enjoying an unlimited supply of rest and peace. What could be better than to only have to worry about one's studies, one's report card, and nothing else, nothing else at all? What could ever be better than to throw oneself into the arms of a loving mother or father, and tell them about all that had happened in their first year without worrying? What could ever be better than to be granted the chance to spill all one's secrets to their parents carefreely? Nothing. Nothing at all. Lauren's desires were so simple, yet they could not, they could never, be cherished and granted as they should have been. Students her age would take all that for granted, not knowing how lucky they were. Looking at them in the eyes of an unwanted daughter, she felt that if she was allowed the chance at a normal life, she would pounce on it as if she was a three-year-old. At least the voices in her mind didn't interfere in these moments when the young girl reflected on her familial life. They would have been insufferable as they remind her of how she was undeserving, worthless, pathetic, and a monster. They had, however, told that to her so often as to make those vile words standardised. She would no longer flinch as they were repeated in her mind, no longer allow herself to be too shocked or too hurt from what had been heard. Yet the one thing that remained there, always, was her agreement with the voice. She would always finding herself nodding along with the vile things that were released in her mind like toxic gas. They were like a plastic bag, suffocating her, yet keeping her alive with her life hanging by a thread, so that she could continue to endure the pain. But she could never run from the voices. She was trapped in it, forever. She hung her head in a defeated sigh, muttering to no one in particular, and, without even thinking because her mind was so full of the dread of meeting her aunt in Platform Nine and Three Quarters, she knocked on the door of a compartment. In this moment, she didn't even care about how embarrassed she was making herself. She was, and could only, barely picture the horrifying reality of her aunt forcing her to choke the apology out as 'practice'. She seemed to be determined that she apologised so that her relationship with her parents and the rest of the Vanes family could improve. But she must learn that it would never be possible. Some wounds just ran too deep, and could never be healed. She just hoped that, whatever would happen to her in the next five or so hours, was going to be as slow as possible. She really couldn't bear Loratrix Vanes and her words, and shuddered at the thought. God knew what that woman could be up to. She had already attempted to force Lauren to apologise in May, which she had failed in. She felt a jolt of pain shoot through her when she remembered that her aunt had deliberately organised everything so that her siblings could witness what had been written as to make Lauren's life as humiliating as possible. Why did everything have to be so difficult? |
yada yada yada |
| interacting; @miren hawthorn |  |
lauren; parseltongue; others; thoughts |  |
date; 31.06.26 |  |
wc; 1,471/200 |
| 𝓼𝓽𝓪 2 | 𝓮𝓿𝓪 3 | 𝓼𝓽𝓻 1 | 𝔀𝓲𝓼 8 | 𝓪𝓻𝓬 8 | 𝓪𝓬𝓬 8 | XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX | lauren vanes | parselmouth |
| ❝kill them with success and bury them with a smile.❞ |