A Life Unknown

Summary: 13 year-old Amelia Struegel had always known she was adopted, but no one knew who her parents were. And, ever since she could remember, she thought there was something else out there, a different world. Heck! Even a different dimension, but she was never prepared for this. On her birthday, July 31st, she finds out her real heritage, and meets her brother, Harry Potter. And in the future, she encounters horrible creatures, romance, struggles, and a traitor.

Rated: PG13 or T

A/N: Hi, this is my first fanfiction, but don't let that make you go, so please be nice. But, I accept criticism, it helps a lot, but everyone I know is too nice to give me any.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The only thing I own is Amelia, and a few other OC's.

Amelia's POV:

I woke in a cold sweat, reluctant to see the sun streaming through the window in my bedroom. I groaned, and lifted my hand to block my eyes from the bright light.

Then, the sound of a digital alarm clock invaded my ears. I slowly turned onto my other side, and peeked through the covers to see the red letters flash a 7:30 in my face.

I quickly shot up out of my bed, almost like a rush of energy flowed through me. At a glance from the calendar, my fears were blown away. And instead, a smile crept its way onto my face, wondering how this day would play its way out.

Allow me to introduce myself, I am Amelia Struegel, and today is when I turn 13. I am trying to hold my excitement in. But I am just a bit confused, like I am waiting for something to happen, a true life changing thing, you know?

Nah, it's probably just my nerves. Last night I had the strangest dream ever, but familiar, almost like the kind of memories that played out in your head when you're looking for something. But it was impossible, unless-

"Mels! Breakfast is ready!" my mother said, pulling me back to reality. I turned on my heel, facing the door, and replied, "I'll be down in 15 minutes!"

She wasn't really my mother, I was adopted. I figured that out a long time ago, when I noticed that I bared no resemblance to them.

They were almost identical to each other, but they had their share of differences.

Both of them had hair that was white as possible, but they had not a single old feature.

Every year, on my birthday, I ask them who my real parents were, but they just said they never knew. I knew it was stupid to keep asking, but they always got a distant look in their eye, as if remembering something important.

"Amelia Lily Struegel! It may be your birthday, but if you're not down here right now-"

"I'll be down in five minutes!" I lamely replied.

I almost knocked over my lamp as I ran over to the book case stuffed with more books than it should be able to hold, and shoved it to the side an inch or two. I quickly grasped the small, leather bound journal, turned to a blank page, and wrote frantically:

July 31st, 2011

There was a beautiful lady with red hair, and stunning green eyes and, a man with raven black hair, and hazel eyes in a room which looked like a living room. The lady was holding a little baby boy, which took on his father's features, but had his mother's eyes. They were laughing and seemed to have not a care in the world.

Then, there was the sound of a rusty gate opening from outside. The man cautiously looked through the window and his eyes widened with fear. "Lily, he's here." He quietly whispered, as if the person outside could hear him, which he probably could. He told her to go, and he would hold him off. She reluctantly left him to fight, taking a little boy with her.

She ran into a room where another small child was sleeping, her dark hair in a mess around her. Glancing at the closet, Lily carefully picked up the small, female child and set her down in the closet gently, and tucked a small locket inside her blanket, and said, "I will always be with you, daughter." When she was about to hide the second child, the man they were probably hiding from burst into the room. He threatened, "Give me the boy, or you will die." She cried out, "NEVER!", but he told her that her husband, James, was dead. At this point, Lily was on the ground, begging for mercy. When he refused, she shouted, "I will never give Harry to you!"

I concluded that Harry was the other child, and Lily was the mother, but James…was dead. The man offered one last time to give her the boy, but she didn't trust him. She fell to the ground without any struggle, at one flash of green light, and the words, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The evil man now focused on Harry, who had started crying, probably because he had just seen his mother being murdered. He laughed, a sound that was probably never heard in a thousand years, and said, "Good bye, Potter. AVADA KEDAVRA!" But then something amazing happened; instead of killing the innocent child, there was a huge, bright light, and then the evil man fell to the ground.

Then, there was a crash, and the room was destroyed. Even in the rubble that used to be a house, it was clear that the two children were still alive. Only then, did I notice the small child in the closet had eyes that were so familiar, she knew she saw them many times before.

In the distance, a figure appeared out of thin air. He walked closer, and closer, until I saw an old, long-bearded man walk over to the used-to-be closet, and pick up the female child. He turned the boy in the crib and said "I am sorry I had to do this, you will see each other in the future." Then, he disappeared with her in his arms.

Once I felt like I had written down every detail of my dream, I re-placed the journal, and shoved the bookshelf back into place. A small tear had managed its way to my eye. I quickly swiped it away, that dream had too much of an effect on me.

But something was bugging me, tugging at my brain. I could feel a connection to the small female child in the dream, but who was she?

I decided that thinking about it more would get me even more upset, so I walked down to the bathroom to freshen up. Stepping in front of the mirror, I slowly peeked through my right eye, bracing myself for the worst.

Looking back at me in the glass was a girl around 5'2, with wavy, jet black hair. On the other hand, she had paper white skin, and high cheek bones. And most of all, her eyes were an alluring shade of green. But under them were bags that caused from waking up from terrible dreams that she could never remember. Her waist was small, petit, and she had a look of relief across her face.

That girl in the mirror, well, that girl was me.

I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding, and leaned my head on the cool counter. So, the dream never left any scars behind. One night, after having one of those spine-tingling nightmares, I had woken up with long, deep cuts across my arms and legs. I had to be rushed into the emergency room so they could stop the bleeding. People at school had asked where it had come from, and I made up this elaborate story including a hobo, a cat, and a tin can. But in all truth, I had no idea where it came from.

The doctors had estimated the scars would be gone in a few months, but 2 years past and they were still as vivid as they were before. Ever since that incident, I had become worried that it would happen again, and worse.

Shaken from the memory, I frantically brushed my teeth, unsuccessfully tried to pull my hair into a casual pony tail, and changed into a pair of dark skinny jeans, red converse, and plain white V-neck.

When I had reached the bottom of the mahogany staircase, and caught myself from falling and, I found myself in the walking into the dining room when I heard Mom and Dad yell, "Happy Birthday!"

In the center of the table I found bacon, eggs, and orange juice, ready to be devoured. It was my favorite breakfast, but something seemed out of place. Everything in the room appeared where it was supposed to be, there wasn't a single spot of dirt on the floor, (Mom's habit of keeping the house "clean as a whistle") and nothing was lying around. (Another thing she didn't tolerate)

The two had noticed me pause, and dad questioned with serious worry, "Honey, what's wrong?" "Something seems wrong…" I thoughtfully said. I noticed a flicker of something in the corner of my eye, and turned around instantly. "What are you doing?" mother, clearly confused said.

"Nothing," I softly breathed, ignoring whatever was there.

And at that, the door bell sounded from the front room. After the sound of the door opening, I heard my mother screech in total shock.

"What are you doing here?" she said, still in complete shock.

I was now questioning her sanity, so I decided to go and see what was so shocking.

When I got into the front room, I hid behind a pillar, just in case they weren't supposed to see me.

I had started to take in his features. I noticed he was quite young, almost seventeen, four years older than me, and his black hair was very unruly, going in different directions. And his eyes…I remembered up in the bathroom just a few moments earlier and remembered that same shade.

"-And she doesn't even know what she is-" the man at the door stopped short, noticing that I had entered the room unannounced.

"Um, hello?" I said, more asking, to the man who suddenly seemed extremely familiar.

"Oh, uh…hello Amelia," he said in a voice that sounded like he had no idea what to say at all, "My name is Harry."

I caught his slip up immediately, "How do you know my name?"

For a few seconds he was dumbstruck, and realizing his mistake, he stammered, "I-I was a friend of your parents."

"Really," I said, my curiosity sparked, "Who were they?" The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, I couldn't help myself.

"They never told you?" Harry said in a slow voice, like he was preventing from steam come out of his ears.

"You mean Jennifer and Louis? They never knew…" but something occurred to me that wouldn't let me finish.

"Your name is Harry, yes?" I slowly said, you could practically see the gears turning in my mind.

"C-correct," he relied hesitantly, as if he knew what was going on in my mind.

"Is it possible your name could be Harry Potter?" if I had any sense, I would never have asked that, but I couldn't help it.

"Yes, I am Harry Potter," he said, trying to hide something I couldn't see.

I stared at him in disbelief. He was the younger boy in my dream. The boy who was supposed to die.

Without thinking, I said, "You're the boy in my dreams, the one who survived…"

Jennifer finally spoke up, "What dream honey?" Her voice sounded more worried, not like the baby voice she used to give to me to figure out something.

"I will be down in just a minute," and then I dashed upstairs. I ignored Louis' calls from the living room telling me to slow down; all that was on my mind was my journal. Once I gotten to room, I ran through there like a tornado and carefully pushed the bookcase out of the way.

I snatched the journal from its hiding place, and hurriedly pushed the piece of furniture back. Unfortunately, that caused a few books to fall out, landing on my head. As I was rubbing the place that was throbbing, I half-jogged down the stairs and found that my mother and Harry were on the couch with my father. Harry looked quite uncomfortable sitting there with them sending him dirty looks.

My mother sent me a questioning look that said, 'Why are you rubbing your head?' I just mumbled, "Doesn't matter," and kept holding on to the journal.

I reluctantly let go of my head, failing to deal with the burning sensation, and looked down at the leather-bound journal in my hands. This thing held all of my secrets, and the dreams that I managed to remember. I sometimes tried to read it, but sometimes it was too much. Many of them looked as if they were written about the future, but I had no idea if it was fiction or not. I finally removed my eyes away from the book and calmly said, "I need to read you something."

Jennifer and Louis looked slightly uninterested, but Harry looked as if he was about to be told the secret to becoming a millionaire. I felt a bit uneasy; I had never let anyone hear about my dreams. If I had any friends at school, I might've told them, but I was the odd one out. Any ways, I sat on the chair opposite of them, and began to read.

At the first few words, Harry's eyes widened, as if he knew what this was, but I didn't stop. As I continued reading, I stuttered a few times, as I usually did when I read them. But when I was reading, "She fell to the ground without any struggle, at one flash of green light, and the words, 'AVADA KEDAVRA!' " I closed my eyes tight. A tear struggled to make its way through, and fell down my cheek, and onto my palm. I quickly wiped it away, and continued reading, trying to make it like that I hadn't cried.

When I finished, I said, "That was my dream last night, I woke up this morning and wrote everything down. Do any of you know what it means?" I looked at all of them, but Harry for a few seconds more. He was the boy in the dream, so he had to know something, right?

Just as I expected, Harry spoke and said, "I know, but can I have a few seconds to figure out how to tell you this?" I nodded mutely; as I was still quite a bit shaken from the dream.

As he left the room, I leaned back a bit against the cushions and looked back at the pages in the journal. I turned to a random one, and just stared at the pages, not even reading. Then I noticed the date:

September 1, 2009

The date bothered me; I didn't know why, it just did. To avoid further encounters with past memories, I had decided to close the book.

I decided to look at my parents. They were looking at the ground with solemn expressions of their faces. Then Jennifer looked up and said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry-were sorry. We never knew…we never could've imagined what you were going through."

She said this because they had always thought these were just regular nightmares, and since they actually had no real children of their own, they didn't know that these things don't happen to every child.

"It's ok, it's not like you could've known," I said, but I was a bit upset inside. They didn't try to help me, or make me feel better; they just stood back scratching their heads stupidly.

They might've thought that saying anymore would spark more anger in me, because they didn't respond.

At that moment, Harry re-entered the room and took a deep, long breath. At the end it quivered a little bit, but I didn't feel like being rude, so I ignored it. Harry spoke in a cracking voice, "Can I speak with you alone?"

My parents promptly left the room, and he stood there awkwardly for a few moments. Waiting was agonizing, so I asked, "Are you gonna sit down?"

He chuckled at that, a dry throaty sound. But he obliged and sat down on the sofa across from me.

His head was in his hands, and he was letting out a stressed sigh, I worried me slightly. "Are you okay?" I asked, my worry for him growing.

"Yeah, it's just hard to explain," he replied, receiving a questionable look from me. "Well, let's start with who were those people in the dream. I know the boy in you, but who are the others?" I asked, hoping for an answer.

His expression softened, and he looked at my with eyes full of dread and said, "Amelia, they were your parents."

A/N: Yup, I am gonna leave you with that. Ohh, a cliffhanger! I feel so eevvviilll!

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