Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, all credit rightfully belongs to J.K. Rowling, except for the creation of Ashen Mayall, the Mayall family, and Morsinsomnus (death in sleep), Vertantur felis (transform into cat *permanent spell*), and Vertantur avis (transform into bird *permanent spell*) as well as anything else that seems to be randomly created. Anything that is recognized from other authors, they are rightfully credited to whatever is made clear in this story.

I hated thunderstorms.

Especially in the middle of wet and dreary England.

Rain pounded on the roof over my room in the attic, startling me from my self-absorbed misery. Grumbling something under my breath about the mistreatment of their daughter and sending her up into her new room, I flipped over on my bed and studied my small, worn room. With the permission of the elder Mayall's, I had painted the boring room.

It was a dark blue tinted with dark purple, with lighter shades of purple and blue highlighting the room. Occasionally, there was a spread of black or dot of white, to look like stars. It was supposed to represent a galaxy of my own creation. My window, and the sole mirror to the outside window, took up an entire wall to my left when I came in. There was a glass door that went out to my own balcony, which had a small mini-fridge and counter that were mine. In my room, I had a tiny mahogany desk, with a dark purple lamp to the left of it. My twin bed was made of mahogany, and faced my door, which was to the right corner when I came in. The desk was to the left of my small bed. A mahogany and very elegant dresser was to the direct left of my door, which held most of my outfits. My bed had dark purple sheets, but a dark blue duvet with different shades and thin white stripes. The other side was a flip, white with thin blue stripes. My pillows were the same as my sheets. My carpet was dark blue, with two dark purple carpets in front of my bed and my dresser.

All in all, it was very homey to me. I yawned, glancing towards my bookshelf, which was out on my balcony to the right of my small counter. In it was a small collection of my favorite books. A small smile spread over my cheeks, feeling a dimple form at the corner of my left eye. They were books by J.R.R. Tolkien, and the Hobbit was lying open on my pillows.

My slight smile disappeared when the dreaded screech of my mother echoed up the hallway. I stiffened, feeling a slight fear develop as a curling ball in my stomach. It developed into terror as heavy footsteps stomped towards my door. Dread filled me, and a copper taste filled my mouth. It was salty; I had bitten my tongue as I leaped out of my bed and pulled myself underneath it.

"ASHEN OSPREY MAYALL!" she shrieked shrilly, slamming open my door. Cowering into the wall beneath my bed, I felt my small, thin frame bury itself into the carpet. Thick ankles stopped in front of my bed, and Mother seemed to hesitate before storming out of the room in fury and confusion. A thick white curl fell in front of my face, reminding me terribly of why Mother and Father seemed to detest me. Yet, they had still let me design my room. I always wondered why my parents let me design my room whenever we moved. I never knew why.

A ragged breath drew from my tiny form as I slowly crawled out from underneath my bed. In my mirror of my open dresser, I saw deep red eyes stand out across hollow cheeks and a small skeletal face. Scuttling about my room and tidying up, I drew in another deep breath.

"Ashen?" I heard from my doorway. I instantly froze, halfway through pulling off my heavy pink nightgown. Startled, I glanced immediately my door and stiffened like a deer in the headlights. It was one of my many brothers, Walter. His dark brown eyes studied me closely, long light brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. He was one of the more boyish kinds of brothers, but was kind and quiet. "Mother wants to see you." he said quietly, disappearing from my doorway like a haunting wraith.

I quickly dressed into a thick, pure white sleeveless dress, with a wide red ribbon encircling my tiny waist. It fell to my knees in a slight puff, with four layers of lace beneath it. My shoes were white ballet flats, decorated with red flower-like designs. Dashing out of my room like a spooked horse, I skidded down the stairs. Panting, I slid to a stop when spotting my father. I snapped to attention, eyes on my feet as he rested his eyes on me. Cold, empty dark brown eyes glared at me as he paused in conversation with my ridiculously skinny mother. His hair was platinum blonde, a shade darker from my pure white hair. My mother had thick, springy black curls that contrasted deeply with her pale skin. Her cold, pale green eyes studied me with a disappointed, appraising look.

"Well, well, well... Guess who decided to.. embrace us with her presence, dear Klaus?" my mother asked in a lilting, beautiful voice.

"Hmm.." My father, Klaus rested his eyes on his less than stellar wife. "I don't know, who else is our daughter?" He inquired sarcastically.

"Guess!" My mother slapped him delicately, teasingly.

"Let me see, dear Daisy..." my father pretended to be deep in thought. "What have you to say for yourself, Ashen Osprey Mayall?" he glared at me icily, and I flinched at the venom in his voice.

"I - I'm sorry, mister Mayall." I stammered softly, just barely heard even by myself.

"Speak up, demon child." my mother slapped me, hard.

"I- I'm s-s-sorry!" I let out a sharp gasp, feeling fear overwhelm me. "I w-w-won't b-be late aga-again!"

"You better." my mother's voice was deathly cold, venom lacing her tone. "Go do whatever you need for the rest of the day. Do not grace us with your... gift until our guests have left."

"Mm mm mmm, Mrs. Daisy and Mr. Klaus Mayall." came a deep voice from the front of the house. They turned, before displaying expressions of shock.

"S- Severus?!" my mother looked absolutely horrified and majorly guilty. Quietly, I lifted my eyes to study the man at the door. He was quite tall, with sallow skin and greasy long black hair tied back into a loose ponytail. His eyes were dark as he studied me, his warm dark gaze appraising.

"Is this, the demon child, you spoke of?" he asked my parents slowly.

"N - no of course not!" my mother blatantly lied.

"Hmm.. come here, child." he said softly, and I flinched as if struck. "...I thought so. Mrs. Daisy and Mr. Klaus Mayall, you are under arrest for physical and emotional abuse, neglect, and starvation on Ashen Osprey Mayall. Anything you say, will, or do will be used on you in Trial and Court."

I could feel my eyes round in what probably looked like fear. My feelings were ditto. With a deep breath, I stepped back slightly. A loud CRACK! sound filled the room, and I immediately flinched, practically ramming myself into the wall to get away from the man.

"Ash?" The man hovered above me, and I realized I fell into an ungraceful heap.

"D-d-don't hu-hurt me!" I sobbed breathlessly, tears pouring down my face in what was probably terror. The man's eyes softened. "My name's Severus Snape. I'm here to rescue you, young one."

"Re- rescue me? Wh-wh-why me? H-how do you kn-know I wa-was here?" Questions exploded me as I flinched away from me.

"All in good time, all in good time." he soothed reaching out as if to caress me. I flinched back again, still sobbing in fear. A shadow appeared behind Severus, and I could feel my heart begin to pound, my body beginning to quiver violently.

"What's taking so long?" the voice coming from the shadow was high and cold. I immediately flinched once more, taking in the sight of a tall, serpentine, bald man. His eyes were deep red, the shade of blood, with slits for a nose.

"Shit, she's going into hyperventilation." Severus cursed heavily, reaching into his cloak and taking out a vial with bright blue liquid. I tried to keep him away from me, but being too weak, he opened my mouth easily and poured the liquid in. Immediately following, was a brief look of panic from the bald man and another vial with purple liquid.