Okay this is my first Harry Potter fanfic, I hope you like it. Sorry if people are OOC and for grammar mistakes and if my oc is a mary sue.
Here's a character description:
Name: Annabelle
Age: 10 nearly 11
Personality: Early in life she was emotionally distant, kind, optimistic, smart and carefree. She later loses the optimistic, carefree part of her personality and becomes cold and ruthless.
Appearance: She had dark red curly hair which came to the back of her knees but later she cuts in to her shoulders. Her skin is fair and flawless, she is rather short for her age but still has her mother's gracefulness.
From the blood of a wizard and a veela
A weapon of mass destruction shall be made
A girl with hair and eyes red as blood
Shall start a storm
And though many wish to hold her power
She will stand alone
She shall either bring peace
Or cause chaos
But the choice remains with her
Those simple words have ruled my life, they caused my birth and somehow I think they may cause my death. My father Charles Gathers has always had a craving for power. He was top of his wizarding school in America and was even offered a place with the death eaters which he declined. Now don't let that fool you into thinking he's a good person; the only reason he declined is because he wanted to be the leader not some pathetic follower.
It wasn't until 12 years ago that he really turned bad, my great aunt was a seer and she made that prediction to him. Then he set to work, first murdering my great aunt to hide the evidence. That's where my information trail goes kind of flat. Father kidnapped a veela, I have no idea how he did it or how many he did it too but he did. He trapped her in a tower that I still don't know where is and raped her repeatedly. He forced her to have child after child, suffocating anyone that didn't have red hair and eyes, until finally he got what he was looking for. The child destined to either save or destroy the world, me.
Unlike what many people think about veelas my mother was the kindest person I've ever met. Despite having me forced on her she loved me, with all her heart. My mother had walked the earth for hundreds of years and she shared with me all of which she had learned. I learned everything acrobatics that mother had convinced a trapeze artist to teach her to spells my mother could never perform. She even gave me my name Annabelle because she once met a muggle that showed her a new way to live and that was her name. The only thing my mother couldn't teach me is how to feel like her. I somehow got my father's colder personality and couldn't understand some of the emotions she felt.
Mother loved to tell me stories of the outside world, places I couldn't dream of. Through those stories I gained a love of reading but father would only bring me nonfiction books. Though many books of anatomy I learned many weaknesses of the human body. But still despite not understanding my emotions I had strong morals. I would never hurt anything else because my mother explained that father loves to hurt and I decided to never be like him. I was trapped but for some reason I enjoyed my life until father took that joy away from me.
It was an ordinary day father had yet to come for his weekly visit. I had just woken up my long red curls reaching the back of my knees. I walked into my kitchen to see mother stuffing food into a bag made from a dress. I tilted my head slightly to the right in confusion "mother, what are you doing" I questioned. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked straight into my horrid eyes "we're leaving" she said in a firm voice. The words shook me to my core, leaving is impossible but I decided to humor her.
"Okay, how are we going to do that" I asked using all of my self-restraint not to smile. She smiled a secret smile then told me to get dressed and she'd explain everything later. I nodded then ran to my room; it's at the very top of the tower, while the other three rooms are below. Then there's a door with a electronic lock that leads out of the tower, it's the twenty first century but I suspect father keeps us in a tower to get under mother's skin. I quickly dressed in a knee length denim skirt with a purple tank top and a white cardigan.
When I returned to the kitchen mother was there with a long rope made of knotted together clothes and sheets. "Help me move the refrigerator" she asked and I did, it took a while but we pulled it out. I watched as she tied on end of the rope around the refrigerator then she walked over to the window and through the rope out of the window, it nearly reached the bottom. Mother removed her high heels and I mimicked her taking off my ballet flats. She climbed out of the window first and I followed her out still took shocked to speak.
The climb down went smoothly; mother had already reached the end then jumped the remaining five feet. I slowly climbed to the end of the rope, soon I was at the end then I released my grip from the rope and fell. It was then I realized that I was going to land on mother so I quickly angled myself away from her. I didn't hit her but I hadn't had enough time to do the correct landing and landed with my ankle in an awkward position. I'm positive I heard the deafening creak of the bone breaking. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out in pain. Mother's eyes were filled with panic; she helped me up but as soon I put weight on my ankle it crumpled. She sat me down then took a seat across from me, she looked sad and I understood why.
She gently held my ankle up; it was bent awkwardly and throbbing with pain. I closed my eyes and felt her grip my foot with both hands. Then in one swift motion she snapped my ankle back in place, I screamed in pain. Tears flowing on my cheeks, silent sobs breaking from my throat. I felt Mother wrap her arms around me, I couldn't remember the last time I had cried and it felt good. I must have cried for hours because when I had finally finished it was dark, Mother had fallen asleep and I snuggled close to her and slept.
I jerked awake a pain filled scream erupted in empty air, Mother and I were back in the tower and Father was there a crowbar in his hand. I watched defenselessly as he struck her with the crowbar, he repeated the motion over and over again. I couldn't close my eyes; I just sat there and watched as he beat the only person to care for me. Blood oozed on the floor eventually making it under my bare feet. It didn't matter all that mattered was Mother, she was had stopped screaming but her eyes were still alert.
Suddenly I stood up, "No" I screamed at the top of my lungs; the entire bookshelf across the room collapsed. "No" I repeated the same word over and over again, appliances floating in the air as if someone had turned off the gravity. My hair floated up zero gravity style and I stopped saying actual word instead I just screamed louder than Mother had. Finally Father slapped me across the face, knocking me out of my temper tantrum, his face was red with anger and he stormed out of the room and to the big door. Then I observed him punch the numbers into the key pad, there were five of them.
He left mothers body in the room with me; it seems that during my temper tantrum he had grown tired of beating her and just stabbed her. I pulled the dagger out of her chest, and noticed its discarded sheath on the floor. I picked the both up and washed the in the sink. The daggers blade was silver and after being washed it shined to be almost white. The handle was black with gold accents and the sheath matched the handle. I found myself exhausted, and sheathed the knife, falling asleep with it under my pillow.
Now we're back at the present, it's been three months since that night and I forgotten all my morals. I would kill my father today but I'm going to make him suffer. He's going to chase me and when he finally catches me I'll kill him with the same knife he used to stab Mother. I've spent every time Father comes to remember the code to the door. He came for his weekly visit last night so I know that he won't he coming back for a while.
I took five knee length skirts and used the dagger to cut them so they would come down to mid thigh. Then I put a denim one on along with a black t-shit and my coat. I stuffed the others in a canvas bag which already other clothes in it. I pulled on socks then went to Mothers room, everything had been left untouched. I went under her bed and pulled out knee high combat boots. They were a little big but they would do, I quickly laced them up.
I ran to the big door and turned to the keypad; I quickly followed the familiar pattern. Middle number on the second row, then top right number, followed but the top left number, then the bottom left and finally the middle right number. The door unlocked, I ran down two flights of stairs then I saw another door and luckily it was unlocked. I ran out the door and away from the door. I sprinted out of my old life and into a new one.