A small girl stood staring at her reflection, savoring every minute. Her eyes flitted hungerly over her tumbling mass of dark curls reflected in the mirror. Her small lips were pressed in a wry grin, and freckles faintly dotted her cheeks. Her eyes were dark, glimmering with a faint bitterness, as though she had already seen too much. She looked down at the crumbled piece of parchment in her hand, running her thumb along the moving image of a woman.
"Hello Mum."
The image of the witch snarled up at her, her dark eyes filled with venom, almost an exact replica of her daughter. LESTRANGE CAPTURED was printed in bold across the dated Daily Prophet.
"Are you finished?" A curt voice echoed across the dim room, making the girl jump.
"Yes Mother," she hastily shoved the newspaper article into a drawer and stood.
Amelie Blackwood raised an eyebrow at her adopted daughter but chose not to comment on her strange behavior. She raised her wand and with a few flicks, her daughter was unrecognizable. Where there was dark hair, ginger hair now fell down the little girl's shoulders. Her eyes were now a bright blue and her skin was pale and smooth. Amelie scanned her daughter over and gave a small nod of approval before speaking "Now repeat.."
"I am Pe..enny Blackwood," the girl's voice was shaky at first but slowly grew stronger. "My parents are Amelie and Albert Blackwood. We live in Bristol. I'm eleven years old and soon will be starting Hogwarts."
"Perfect." Mrs. Blackwood gave an approving nod and her daughter's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Maybe while we are in Diagon Alley we can stop and get something special for your birthday." She gave a rare smile.
Estella Lestrange attempted a weak grin, trying to hide the sinking of her stomach. Her real birthday was in one week and she was due to start Hogwarts next month. No that was wrong. Penny Blackwood was the one starting Hogwarts. She couldn't help the bile that rose in her throat as she thought about pretending to be someone else for the rest of her life. She clenched her fists. Technically Penny's birthday had already passed months ago.
Amelie noted her daughter's sudden frustration with a raised eyebrow. "We've been through this Penny."
"I know," the small girl gritted her teeth. "For the greater good."
"That's my girl." Albert Blackwood stepped through the doorway, his towering frame encompassing the girl as he gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Let's be off."
His wife nodded and the trio clasped hands before they disapparated with a pop.