Birthright

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything belonging to Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Hey everyone! So I originally wrote and posted this story a few years ago, and recently picked it back up. But since I have begun writing again, I've noticed that I wasn't too happy with the direction of this story. It was moving far too quickly, and there were some discrepancies in the timeline that I really wanted to fix. And so, instead of rewriting chapters and just reposting it as I go, I decided to completely rewrite it. This is because I also plan on changing some key plot points.

So any old readers of Birthright please enjoy and be patient as I edit/rewrite most of the new chapters. And to all of my new readers: welcome aboard! I hope you enjoy, and remember to review! I love receiving feedback of all kinds.

Chapter One

If we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find.
- John Collins

Amelia Remington looked overhead as the storm clouds blocked out the very last of the sun. All shadows seemed to disappear, and it appeared as if grey was now everywhere. Quite literally, grey was everywhere these days. Not simply in the weather, but in the moods and actions of everyone in the country. Bridges were breaking in freak accidents, there had been random and unprovoked murders all across the country, and it was constantly cold and dark. It was as if every particle in the universe was turning dark and unpleasant, leaving nothing but a sinister air across the country. People had lost hope that things would turn around and get better. Amelia had not smiled for days; it was as if every sad and depressing feeling in the entire world was inside of her.

Her parents had even wanted to pull her from school, and to keep Amelia at home until all of this was over. That had been a major point of contention between Amelia and her parents. Her mother insisted that it was no longer safe for her to be out of the house. Her mother wanted everyone together, hiding as a family. Amelia, however, thought that was a load of crap. She was eighteen years old, and almost done with her last year of school. She wanted to make sure that she would still be on track to attend university in the fall. But that would not happen if her parents pulled her out of school now, she needed to finish the year. Amelia did not even know why the two of them were so worried about school in the first place. No one else's parents were in that much of a panic about the state of the world around them, all of her friends were still ordered to go to and from school by their parents. No one else that she knew talked about going into hiding; it was mad. Her parents were going absolutely mad.

Her parents had always been the overly protective sort. When Amelia was growing up, her mother would always insist on meeting friends, potential boyfriends, and sometimes even their families. Amelia had always been embarrassed by that behavior, but her mother had dismissed it as simply being a concerned parent. Eventually, Amelia became used to the prying and pushiness. But her parents' behavior had become even more irrational lately. It was not as if her parents could protect her at home any better than a teacher could at school. If something horrible were to happen, it would not matter where she was. It was true that things were bad, but her parents were completely overreacting.

When she told her parents as much, her mother got extremely defensive. "You don't know the half of what is going on out there, Amelia." She would say. Amelia knew though; she was not dim. She read the newspaper, and watched the breaking news on the television. The unusual murders happening across the country were all anyone at school seemed to talk about anymore. But they were happening to other people; there was little to no chance that anything would happen to Amelia or her family. Her life was perfectly normal, and boring. Her mother was just paranoid, worrying that some monster was behind every corner, waiting to attack. And Amelia told her as much, often more than once a day. And so, against her parents' wishes, Amelia walked to and from school every day.

Amelia had two miles to walk from her school to her house. Keeping her messenger bag full of books close to her small frame, she picked up her pace. The streets were empty; no one liked to be out longer than was absolutely necessary. Amelia included. While she did not think that anything bad would happen to her on the school's campus, she was not an idiot. She wouldn't go anywhere but two and from school; she had at least promised her mother that. And so, she walked her two miles from school to her home quickly and in solitude. With the increase in unprovoked attacks and unsolved murders, the close ties of her once friendly community seemed to evaporate. Everyone looked out for themselves, and no one else.

I hope Mum doesn't have the news on again, Amelia thought to herself as she walked back home. Her mother and father seemed to be particularly interested in all of the horrible things that were happening across the country. Every news report, every murder, every accident was of interest to them. It was almost as if they were becoming one of those weird conspiracy theorists on the late night television programs that seemed to think that every little thing that was going on in the world was connected in some weird way. Amelia chalked it up to just mere morbid curiosity, but it seemed strange to her. Her parents seemed extremely concerned, and had been following and tracking every news story since these curious events started two years ago. It is just an increase in some petty crime, Amelia told herself almost every day, the police will handle it and it will all go away soon.

Amelia was starting to doubt those words now more than ever.

The first raindrop that hit her caused Amelia to break out of her own thoughts. Shit, she thought, this is the last thing that I need right now. With that, her pace quickened even more. She was about two blocks away from her home, and she did not want to get caught in yet another downpour. Lifting her eyes, she noticed that around the area where she lived, there was a rain cloud even darker than the rest. It was oddly shaped, and had a sinister look about it. Great, it looks like I'm walking right into the storm.

As she neared her home, Amelia became more and more aware of her surroundings. More people were out on the street than normal. Because no one liked to spend more time outside than absolutely necessary, this was the first thing Amelia even noticed. Neighbors who had not spoken in weeks were now huddled into groups, whispering frantically to one another. Amelia clutched her messenger bag tightly, picking up her speed with each step. She absolutely had to see what was going on. She was practically running by the time she approached her home. The entire community was all facing the direction of her house, pointing and staring. Amelia looked to her home with horror. The windows were broken with jagged pieces of glass sticking out. The dark ominous storm cloud that Amelia noticed before hung overhead. Was it in the shape of a skull, or was that some kind of figment of her imagination? Why was it only over her home, and not her neighbors? Amelia's mind was reeling, her thoughts going off in a million different directions. Where were her parents? Amelia's heartrate quickened as she frantically tried to reach her home. But the all entrances were barricaded by police officers in uniforms, insisting that they needed to complete a thorough investigation of the house that she had grown up in.

"I live here though!" Amelia pleaded with a female officer, who had told her to take a step back when she tried to get a closer look of the damage. "That's my house! You have to tell me what happened here!"

"We will tell you everything that we know once the crime scene is completely processed." The woman folded her arms across her chest, a tell-tale sign that she was not budging from that position.

Crime scene? The thought made Amelia panic even more. Her heart was hammering inside her chest so hard that she could actually hear it. She needed answers.

"Please," Amelia begged each of the different officers that she could find, trying to have some city official take pity on her, "Where are my parents? What happened? Why won't you tell me anything?"

"Miss," Another officer said, sounding exasperated with her pleas, "Let us do our jobs and then we will tell you everything that we know."

And so, Amelia could only watch helplessly as uniformed officers went in and out of her childhood home. Amelia just stood there as they took random items from around her house and put them into bags marked as "evidence" for further examination. The time she spent standing there passed slowly, and Amelia let out an audible groan when she was once again denied any answers.

One of her neighbors spotted her from across the street, and gave her a look of enormous pity. The old woman put her arm around her and led her into the warmth of her own home across the street.

The woman was Creepy Carlotta, or so the younger kids in the neighborhood had taken to calling her. Carlotta, from what Amelia knew, lived alone in her house. Her husband had died a few years before, and since then she had become eccentric. Well, more eccentric than she had been when her husband was still alive. Weird things were always known to go on in their home, and sometimes odd people who dressed in strange attire could be seen through their windows. To Amelia, the entire family had been a little insane. But Amelia, in her confusion, accepted the old woman's help and followed her into her home.

If Amelia thought that Carlotta was eccentric, her home all but confirmed that thought. Odd trinkets hung from the mantelpiece, some of which Amelia would never be able to recognize. Amelia was certain you could not get them at any sort of shop in town. She seemed to lack most modern conveniences, such as a television or stereo. A rather old looking radio, however, seemed quite at home in the corner. Amelia thumbed curiously through papers on the coffee table, stumbling across the most curious newspaper that she had ever come across: The Daily Prophet. Amelia made a mental note to ask about that newspaper when things had settled down and Amelia found her parents. Amelia looked around at the pictures on the wall, trying to get a sense of the life of her mysterious neighbor Carlotta; it was a welcome distraction from the panic that she felt. But as she looked around, she could have sworn that out of the corner of her eye, she saw some of the pictures move. Amelia shook her head; that thought was absolutely mad. Pictures did not move. Calm down, Amelia told herself, you've got yourself so stressed out that you are seeing things now. Just calm down and try not to think about your parents.

Amelia felt herself do the exact opposite of calming down. As her thoughts once again drifted to her parents, Amelia began to panic once again. Where were they? What the hell was going on at her house? Why wouldn't anyone tell her anything? Amelia's breathing became erratic, her head was beginning to spin, and her vision was turning into a blur. Is this what a panic attack feels like? Amelia asked herself, as she tried to control her breathing.

"The police will be here in a few minutes to speak with you," Carlotta said, as she sat Amelia down on the couch, "Can I get you anything? How about a cup of tea? Maybe something to eat? You must be starved by now, poor thing."

Amelia did not even acknowledge the woman, or her kind offers. Her mind was still trying to focus on what she said. Police? Her mind was buzzing with questions, as she thought about the callous police officers that she had dealt with not even ten minutes ago. Why were the police even involved with this? Where were her parents? Why would no one give her a straight answer when she asked? Every second that she sat there alone, her heart beat faster. Amelia hated being alone and in the dark about the situation around her. Especially when it all seemed to revolve around her, and her family.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door, causing Amelia to jump out of her seat. She heard Carlotta shuffling to the foyer, and the creak as the door opened. Amelia's heart was beating faster than before. She was almost certain that it was audible from across the street. She swallowed and tried to calm herself as the police walked into the room. Immediately, questions seemed to pop out of her mouth, "What's going on? Where are my parents?"

The two officers that entered the room seemed to look at her with pity. "I'm sorry, Miss Remington," One said, as he pulled off his hat, "But your parents seem to have been the latest victims in a string of murders that have been happening all across the country." The officer droned on, but Amelia did not hear any of the rest of what the two officers had said to her. Her mind stopped processing anything after the world 'murder' and forgot where she was. All she could think about were the faces of her mother and father, and how she would not see either of them ever again. She did not notice when the other officer put her hand on Amelia's shoulder in what was an attempt at a comfort. But Amelia, in her trance of disbelief, did not feel it. The hand that was supposed to be reaching out for her was her mother's. She was supposed to be receiving comfort from her father, the only one who knew how to cheer her up when she was upset. You're never going to see them again, something inside of Amelia told her.

At the thought of it, Amelia began to break down. As the tears flowed freely from her eyes, the two police officers looked to Carlotta, who came in holding a tray with three cups of tea on it. Through her sobs, Amelia heard one of the officers ask, "We've checked the records, and it appears that Miss Remington has no living relatives. Because she is eighteen, she is legally considered an adult and cannot be placed in the care of the state."

Amelia did not even want to think about that. Living on her own? It was inconceivable to think about getting up without the sound of her mother's voice in her ear every morning. She could not imagine not hearing her father's hearty laugh every night. Amelia was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost did not hear Carlotta say, "It's alright. She can stay with me."

Amelia looked up at the old woman, to whom she had never spoken more than a few words to until that very moment. And she was letting Amelia into her home, with all of the craziness going on in the country, without so much as thinking about it. All she could do at the moment was muster up the only two words which she could think of at that moment. Despite her sobs, she managed to choke out the words, "Thank you."

"It's no trouble, dear." The old woman gave Amelia a smile, and waved off her gratitude, "It has been years since there has been a child in this house. I just hope I can help you through this all."

One of the officers in the room cleared her throat, reminding the two that there were others in the room and pressing matters to be attended to.

"If you would like, the scene has been examined thoroughly and you could enter your house to grab a few of your things." The female officer said, giving Amelia a pitying smile.

Amelia nodded as she stood up. She did not want to step into her home, the place of her parents' murder. As she exited Carlotta's home, and looked to her own, it was like she could not even recognize the place. It was darker, and the love and warmth that once seemed to flow through it all disappeared. There was nothing but despair there now.

The house itself was in shambles. It was a complete mess, so unlike the pristine condition that her mother usually kept it in. Walking into it, Amelia felt as if she was entering a stranger's house. Furniture had been overturned, glass had been shattered, and there was what, to Amelia, looked like burn marks on the wall. The house looked like a war zone. She tried not to look at the condition of her home as she ascended the stairs, it would only cause her to think about the horror that her parents must have gone through.

Glass pictures were shattered in the corridor leading up to Amelia's room. It was surreal being in a house where something so terrible had happened. Amelia shuddered at the thought, trying to push any thoughts of her parents' demise out of her head. As she entered her room, she found it in the same condition as the rest of the house. Her bed had been turned over, and her closet has a giant hole in it, as if someone had shot a cannon right through the door. Singe marks covered the walls, just as they had on the floor below. Why had the fight for her parents' life some to her room? Why did the fight appear to be so brutal? It took every ounce of strength in Amelia's body to keep her composure and not to break down crying in front of everyone.

Silently, she gathered her clothes and all necessities. It took her all of five minutes; Amelia was in a hurry to get out of the house. It was becoming almost unbearable for her to be there. As she descended the stairs, a faint glimmer caught Amelia's eye. The last of the sunlight reflected off one of the only unbroken pieces of glass; it was a picture frame. It was the only picture frame left untouched. Without even thinking, Amelia grabbed the picture. It was a picture of the three of them, on vacation in New York City one year. Feeling a swell of emotions rise up, she put the picture away, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of her jeans. She wanted to keep it close to her, at all times.

With Carlotta's arm around her, Amelia made her way across the street. The old woman was fussing over her, offering her tea, food or anything else that she could think of. Amelia did not want any of that. She just wanted to be left alone with her own thoughts, but Carlotta either was unable to take the hint, or deliberately not leaving the young girl alone.

"Are you sure that I can't get you something?" Carlotta peeked into the guest room, where Amelia had set up her things. Her bag lay untouched in the corner, all of her things still packed away. Amelia did not want to unpack them; that would be admitting that everything that happened to her was real.

"No, thank you," Amelia replied for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I really don't think I can stomach anything right now. I don't have much of an appetite."

"But tea will make you feel better," Carlotta countered, "Tea makes everything better."

Amelia shook her head, declining the old woman's hospitality yet again. Once the police left, the news finally began to sink in for her. This was it, her parents were really gone. As Carlotta left the guest room for what Amelia hoped would be the final time, she let the tears finally fall. And once they started, they would not stop coming. It had been hours since she returned home from school and heard the news. But it was just hitting her now that she finally got a moment to herself. She would be on her own for the rest of her life. Amelia frowned, thinking of what that meant for her. What was going to happen to her now? Amelia shook her head, literally trying to shake that thought from her mind. That was a question for a different day. She had thought too much for the day. She needed to just stop, and let her mind go blank for a while.

Amelia lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Somewhere, in the distance, she could head the second hand of a clock ticking. She began to count the seconds as they passed by. One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand. She was going to count as high as she could, focusing on the numbers instead of the events of that day. Hopefully, she would be able to push everything from her mind and actually be able to get some sleep that evening. She doubted it, but Amelia was going to try anyway.

The sun has set, and hours passed before she heart Carlotta come up the stairs once more. Amelia heard the door open, and looked to see the old woman holding a tray of food. Tea and biscuits. Mashed potatoes and gravy. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Some sort of pastry that Amelia did not know the name of. There was every kind of food imaginable there, but Amelia did not want any of it. "I know you said you weren't hungry, dear. But you really should eat something. "

"Thank you," Amelia said, looking at the food. She did not move to eat it; her stomach was still unsettled and she had to wonder if she would ever get her appetite back. But for the moment, she was glad that Carlotta was in the room with her. She cleared her throat before the woman could turn to leave, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear. Ask me anything." The woman did not hide the surprise in her voice. Amelia could not blame her, she had pushed her away too many other times today.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Amelia paused for a moment after seeing the look on Carlotta's face, "Not that I'm ungrateful – if it were not for you, I'd have nowhere to go. But I've lived here all my life and haven't spoken to you more than a handful of times. And earlier today, neighbors who I have known for years avoided me like I had the plague. I'm just curious."

The old woman paused for what seemed like forever. In the silence, Amelia could hear the clock ticking on the wall. One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three one-thousand. Amelia could not even imagine what Carlotta would say, and why it was so difficult for her to get the words out. After a few more moments of silence, she finally spoke, "Because your parents asked me to."

Well, there you go! The first chapter of the new and improved Birthright. I hope all of you enjoyed it! Leave a review if you did! And even if you didn't like it, review anyway! I'm pretty proud of this plot, and want to make the most of it that I can. Thank you!