Hate at first sight

Everybody talks about 'Love at first sight', but what about hate?

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2. The Truth is Out

After staring at the letter for a couple of minutes I did the only thing I could think of; I went and asked Mum and Dad. A million thoughts whirled round my mind as I walked down the stairs, but one stuck in my head - were they really my parents? Clutching the paper and taking a deep breat I walked into the kitchen. Mum was in there making breakfast. "Hello sweet - WHAT HAVE YOU GOT THERE?" She exclaimed, pointing at the owl which was still sitting on my shoulder. "Oh," I said, "it's an owl. Anyway it came with this." I brandished the parchment in her face. Mum gradually went pale, the colour seeping out of her face until her skin was almost white. "Mike, come down here," she shouted. Her voice was quivering so much it was barely recognisable. Dad came down, looking like he had just thrown his clothes on (which he probably had) and he also went pale when he saw the letter. "Your not my real parents are you?" I questioned. Dad glanced at Mum. "No were not," he replied. "Tell me," I whispered. Mum took a deep breath and began...

•••Flashback (3rd person)•••
Albus waited outside the gates of Greyhound Hospital. In the light of the setting sun he checked his timepiece; she would be out soon.
After a few minutes she appeared, wearing a wooly roll-neck top and black trousers. Only the dark circles under her eyes indicated that she had given birth to the baby in her arms.
"Chiquita," Albus said, all sparkle gone from his eyes. "She is called Ria Elodie," Chiquita replied, voice cracking with emotion, "please Albus, I know I have failed you, but I love him, look after her, please!" The sparkle returned to Albus' eyes as Chiquita passed him her daughter. "I know the perfect place," he said, "she will be safe for now but not forever and one day she will find out." With one final kiss on Ria's forehead, Chiquita aperated away, and, just as the sun gave way to night, Albus left to the Pearmain's house.
•••End of flashback•••

"So Dumbledore came and dropped you off. We knew him, see, from an incident with Great Aunt Beatrice." Mums eyes glazed over and she smiled, obviously remembering those times. "Wait!" She said, snapping out of her daze,"we have those pictures! I'll go and get them!" she went into the lounge and a little while later brought back a little ornately carved wooden box. She gingerly opened it and took out 3 things: a photo, a neatly folded form and a rolled up bit of parchment. Dad picked up the photo. "You look just alike," he said while sadly smiling.
I gasped when I saw the photo - it was like looking in mirror. We looked just alike: high cheekbones, pointy chin, big eyes and wavy/curly black hair. The only difference was our colouring; Chiquita, my real mum, had Spanish or Mexican colouring tawny skin and brown eyes, whereas I had striking indigo blue eyes and alabaster skin.
"Read this," Mum said and passed me a form. I gasped again. It was an immigration form form the Ministry of Magic.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC IMMIGRATION FORM

NAME: Chiquita Chachama
COUNRTY OF BIRTH: Mexico
AGE: 12
FAMILY: Older sister (see Magareita Chachama)
REASON: Orphaned by disease.
WHAT NOW: Is magic, Hogwarts scholarship
MONEY CLASSIFICATION: Extreme poverty, will be sent to Ms Richard's orphanage in Wales. Will be split up from sister.

"Poor thing," I murmured after reading the form. "It gets worse," Dad said quietly, passing me the rolled up paper. My eyes gradually widened as I read more. "Its a death warrant!" I exclaimed, my voice higher than normal as I gasped in horror. Would I never get to meet my real mum? I quickly scanned the text. "Chiquita Chachama...committed crime...breaking and entering...stealing...socialising with- What? Why is the name blanked out?" By now my voice was near hysterical. "The name of the person she was socialising with. Why is it blanked out? Why?"
"We don't know." Dad said calmly, "don't worry though Ria she got away. This execution warrant is from 7 years ago. No-one has seen her since then."
I sank into one of the kitchen chairs, taking the information in. The owl seemed to sense my mood change and nuzzled its fluffy head into my neck. "You know what?" I said to the owl, "I think I'm going to call you Pompom."


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