I know, I know. I'm not to happy with myself either. Two unfinished stories and now putting out another one (Maybe two? ehehehhehehehe) I'm in no way dropping the other two, I just sadly been lacking motivation for them. Also I did start getting into Harry Potter (I know late to the party right) while I may not be the biggest fan, I just couldn't get this idea out of my head for too long. So wa-la I went for it and with it I introduce a semi-self insert resurrection story set in the realm of Harry Potter. The prologue is short because I wanted to get that out of the way and immediately start getting to the juicy bits. I hate dragging on the introductions of the main characters.

I will be dropping another story soon set on Game Of Thrones so if you want to check that out, follow I guess? (I'm obsessed with Game of Thrones)

I really do appreciate the follows and reviews

All the characters belong to J.K Rowling, I'm just kidnapping them and raising them as my own.

Thanks dangofamily for being my beta!


~Prologue~

She refused to accept the prospect that she died.

She really didn't, not when that just meant she wasted two years of her life for nothing in college or how her grandpa liked to call it 'a waste of good money'.

Oh how right you were papi.

She felt like she woke up from a long nap, one she was thoroughly enjoying before being RUDELY interrupted. The urge to cry just came over her and so that's what she proceeded to do. An odd feeling to get when you were nineteen years old.

Then she couldn't see properly for a while it, felt so strange. She could hear everyone around her but couldn't really comprehend much either. She stayed like that for a while and it was starting to piss her off a lot and so she responded by crying. She would always feel a pair of arms hold her and she relished in the comfort.

She craved it even.

There was one pair of arms she didn't like being in, she didn't know who's, but it felt so clammy and rough. It only made her scream louder.

She wanted to apologize but she couldn't even seem to form sentences either.

….Then her eyes started to adjust. Everything changed when she could finally see around her. That's why she knew she must have died because right in front of the mirror was a baby.

A baby with silver eyes and really dark jet black hair.

When this realization came she didn't like it, didn't like it one bit. In turn her magic responded. Her own magic. Real magic.

She made bouts of accidental magic here and there.

Any toy she had around her would just start moving just so she wouldn't have to be stuck in her own sorrows.

Things broke - a lot.

There was only one person that could stop her and she finally understood where she was and what was going on when she saw her.

She always came into her nursery a bit disgruntled, almost like she would rather be doing anything else. The one who always followed her in was some old looking elf. The house elf - Kreacher and the one with the clammy arms she hated too much.

She would stare down at her, as if expecting her to change her mind about whatever she was crying about, until she lifted her arms to be carried. At a certain point she started to do it out of spite. What kind of mother didn't want to hold her own child?

Her beautiful grey eyes would look at her in a pleading way before, reluctantly picking her up. Just like that all the hurt and pain she would be experiencing would disappear almost like a soothing wave. She didn't understand why, maybe it was because she will always and forever be a hug addict; past life and present.

Whatever it was she would just put her little baby head on the crook of her neck and she would begin rocking her in a soothing pattern. She could feel her warmth and always picked up the fresh scent of vanilla, and sooner or later she would fall asleep.

Today was different though, for the first time she really wanted to look at Walburga. Even though she continued rocking her, she was just staring at her. She stopped crying but she refused to be put down again. Making a show whenever Walburga felt she has done enough and would attempt to put her down.

Her eyes were grey although her own were much lighter. She was blonde and soft, really soft. She was currently with her hands on her face, really seeing her for the first time.

This was real, she was real.

She still didn't comprehend it all. What happened to her? Why was she here? Of all places she came back to this universe. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of grief for her past life and everything left behind and this one where she knew pain and sorrow would walk with her every step. Especially with this family, knowing the madness that ran through their veins. Guess she really did have rotten luck.

She must have made some face because Walburga started to do that shushing noise and whispering soothing things that she's always seen mothers do to calm their kids. She couldn't help giggling at her actions. This was coming from the woman who made a fuss to hold her.

When she stopped giggling she noticed her nice grey eyes again. They were for the first time - warm. Not cold and distant like she's seen time and time again. A genuine light shown through.

She didn't know why but she didn't want to let that picture go. Then a commotion was coming from her closed nursery door. Walburga groaned and looked at her contemplating putting her down, but when she started to make the motion, she fused. She wanted to see what was going on. Walburga huffed before opening the door and proceeding to see who were responsible for the racket with Kreacher on her heel. She took the time to look around the manor. It was quite beautiful. Some portraits were bickering with each other which caused her to giggle. Walburga glanced in her direction for a second before finding the boys.

Right before her eyes were Sirius and Regulus Black.

They were so small. With chubby cheeks and wide grey eyes.

Sirius was holding onto a toy arm's reach away from Regulus and Regulus was starting to throw a tantrum over it.

Keacher just walked over and snatched the toy from Sirius, who was too focused on keeping it away, and handed it over to Regulus who gave him a wide toothy grin.

"Now both of you behave yourselves, I will not have such rambunctious behavior in this house." Walburga would have continued scolding if the boys were paying attention. They were both staring at the baby in their mother's arms. "Hello." Sirius said moving closer to take a look. They probably only ever seen her when she was sleeping, seeing as she never left her nursery, and slept for hours on end.

She wasn't even that old either. Maybe three months?

"Yes Sirius this is your sister, Roslyn Violette Black." Walburga said it so flippantly. Which also gave her the startling realization, what was her old name?

Regulus attempted to reach a hand and touch her. So Walburga crouched down and held her as he was looking at as if she were something fascinating. When his hand almost touched her, she grabbed it with her chubby little hands and attempted to put it in her mouth. Sirius started laughing as Regulus squealed with a mix of horror and laughter since she was giggling like a madwoman or well in this case a child.

Just like that something in her heart yearned to keep this. Sirius laughing, Regulus using a handkerchief that Keacher Accio'd giggling and Walburga having that little gleam of warmth in her eyes again.

Her heart still yearned for her past, a past with a loving father and weird yet amazing friends.

But this...this could do too.


~Thanks For Reading~