Adopted by a Boy Band

Chapter 1: What I Call Home

Author's Note: The girl shown in the multimedia on the right hand side is Sophia.

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I hate my home. I'm a freak. I'm troubled. The second I saw Miss Emma there to pick me up from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, I wanted to cry.

"Hello, Piper," she said kindly to me. Miss Emma was a 60-year-old old woman who ran the orphanage after her husband died and her son left. She was the only one who understood me, but she reminded me of the orphanage, where I became the next zoo exhibit.

"Hi, Miss Emma," I say, putting on a brave face. She frowned at me. I was wearing my school robes, the only thin I ever felt comfortable in. They were black, lined with red and gold. I wore a white polo shirt with a gray vest over top and a matching gray skirt. I wore white socks and dull, black Mary Janes.

"How have you been since Christmas?" She asks me, taking my hand.

"Good," I say. I was fourteen, and my hand didn't need to be held, but I felt a smile come onto my face. Miss Emma is my mother. She was what a mother is like. At least I think. I never knew my real mother.

"You're grown taller. How tall are you now?" She asks. I was almost as tall as she was.

"Five foot six," I say, pushing my luggage along. It had most of my personal items in it. The rest were either back at Hogwarts or at the orphanage.

"Are your friends doing well?" Miss Emma asks. If only I had any friends. I do have best friends, like Emily and Skylar. But she wouldn't care about Peter and Matt. Peter and Matt were my best friends in the whole world. And they were boys. The only boys I liked being around. Not after my dad did those things to me. I don't want to think about it. I push them out of my mind before I start crying and screaming, and I think back to Peter and Matt to keep my mind off of the topic.

I met Peter and Matt in my first year at Hogwarts, when we were all sorted into Gryffindor. Peter Hawkins, who has light brown hair and blue eyes framed with black square glasses, pale skin, and stands at 5'10", was bright, funny, usually awkward, definitely the most serious and witty. He always knows how to make me and Matt smile, and I know that he'd never do anything to hurt me. Funny, slightly awkward, courageous, charming, Peter. And Matt Evans, equally as amazing as Peter. Quirky, smarter than both me and Peter combined, funny, eccentric, and very awkward. He has brown hair that is parted into a sort of coiff on the right side of his head, bright, blue eyes, and a large chin. He's the tallest of our trio, being 5'11", and ridiculously charming, in an odd way. I miss them already. I don't have a phone to call them, possibly e-mail, but otherwise, we use snail mail, aka, writing letters, to communicate over the summer.

"Yes, ma'am," I say, my thoughts coming back to Miss Emma, as we exit King's Cross Station and cross the parking lot to get to Miss Emma's car. Cars were strange to me after I had spent a whole school year around magic. But I am a muggle-born. Neither of my parents were wizards. Were.

"Piper?" Miss Emma asked as we pile my luggage into her small car.

"Yes Miss Emma?" I ask, taking off my robe. It was a warm June day, and it wold be silly for people to see me wearing my long Gryffindor uniform outside. Gryffindor was the home of the brave, and one of the four "houses" at Hogwarts: Hufflepuff, the caring, Ravenclaw, the intelligent, and Slytherin, the cunning.

"I've talked to everyone at the orphanage." She looks directly at me. This can't be good.

"A-About what?" I ask, finding my voice.

"About their behavior towards you. You're special, Piper. They're only jealous. They only wish they could be part of your world," Miss Emma says. I smile a bit, but then frown again.