(( A/N: To readers who follow my other stories: This is a continuation of that same plot line. I would like to eventually put up a story explaining howAster came to be... but I don't feel like it. To new readers: Read, enjoy, and please review? ))

Aster eyed the wall between platform nine and ten wearily, her mother and father urging her forward. "Try to take it at a run Aster." Her mother said sweetly, pushing her forward slightly. "We've not got all day, Asteraceae." With a scowl at her father she snapped her eyes shut and ran at the wall. She hated it when he called her by her full name. It was a nice name, but every time someone heard it they insisted on her repeating it until they could pronounce it... But they never really could. They would eventually blurt out something similar to her name with a triumphant grin and she would applaud them on their correctness... So that they would stop trying. Though it really didn't seem that difficult a task.

Only she and her parents had ever said it properly, so she had eventually taken up the name Aster to avoid any more incidents. When she opened her eyes she was in fact standing at platform nine and three quarters. She wasn't really shocked, but simply hadn't liked the idea of ramming a cart into a brick wall. Her parents waltzed through the wall behind her, her mother smiling and her father scowling. Father wasn't actually angry, but a scowl was his default expression. Under the scowl she could hear a glowing, prideful smile.

You cant actually hear facial expressions, but with father that was the best way to describe it. For the most part he was relaxed and at peace with the world, though it was not reflected outwardly. He loved her and her mother deeply. He loved another woman though, a dead one. Aster had grown up hearing both her mother and father speaking fondly of the woman named Lily, and there had always been a picture of her on the mantle. Aster would never tell, but sometimes she took the picture to her room and conversed with it. Lily was a very good listener. Aster regarded her mostly as a very dear dead aunt. A legend captured in a frame.

In contrast mother was perpetually chipper, but her smile was usually masking a soul deep discomfort with the world. Her life before father had been long and terrible, and he had been her soul comfort in its darkness. She stayed at home most days and made potions for the shop they ran together. Mother and father had both been keen to see to her teachings on potion making. Aster was not looking forward to spending her class time working on potions ten years under her ability level for the next seven years, but it was very important she also learn other forms of magic as well.

Father knelt to her level. "Do you see that man with the black hair?" He asked. Aster nodded silently. "He's the Boy-who-lived. His mother is Lily." Her father said quietly. Aster turned to stare into her fathers was a churning of thousands of emotions swirling deep inside his blue eyes. So many thoughts and feelings it was almost overwhelming. Aster looked again at the legendary son of the legendary woman who sat on the mantle. That man had ended one of the greatest wars this century. Aster's eyes widened in amazement.

The man looked to her like an ordinary man tousling the hair of his eldest son before pushing him toward the train. The mans red haired wife was giving her second son one last check before he got on the train and Aster could hear the older boy shouting "Slytherin, Slytherin, Al's gonna be in Slytherin!" As he jumped onto the train. Aster could see from the ay their mother hugged the younger boy that he was quite distressed that his brother might be correct. "Is it his first year too?" Aster asked, pointing at the younger boy being comforted by his mother.

"Don't point. Its rude." Snapped her father pushing her hand down. He thought for a moment and responded in a kinder voice than usual. "Yes. It is unlikely, but if you are sorted into the same house... be kind to that boy. Do not make a ruckus about his fame, its hard on the heart." It was odd for father to say such a thing. "What house should I be in?" Aster asked, she had been looking forward to schooling, but knew little of the houses. Father refused to talk about it, and mother only said that she should be happy with any house.

Her father stared at her for a very long time, and once again he gave her a non-definitive answer. "You will come to peace with whichever house you are put it." Aster thought about his words. She knew that her mother had been placed in Ravenclaw, and there had been hints that her father hated Gryffindor. Though, she knew much more than she let on. She had once managed to break the ward on his journal and had learned so many things about her father it was difficult to remember them all at once. In his journal he mentioned Slytherin with fondness, but his writings didn't go into much detail.

From what she had pieced together, he had lived an entirely different life before he met mother. She figured out that he had once been a very different man with the title The Half-blood Prince, but that that man he had been was known to be dead now. It seemed very important that she not let on that she knew that. Her father had been a Slytherin, and teased by a boy named James. He had been in love with Lily, and he still missed her greatly. He had hidden his old life away, and Aster respected that. That as really all she knew from his cobbled together written thoughts.

Aster nodded, and listened carefully as her father pointed out several more faces in the crowd. Some of the faced had been in the paper, some were names she had never heard before. Aster listened, nodded,and tried to remember all that she said. When father had divulged the last of the knowledge he was willing to give, he pulled Aster in for a long hug. Father was not keen on hugs, so Aster savored the moment and listened carefully to the words he whispered into her ear.

"Be very careful about who knows what about you, Aster. The wrong information in the wrong hands could be devastating." His low words of caution didn't shake her. She was use to statements like this. She knew he thought he was speaking of her mothers blood in her veins, but unknown to him she also knew details of her fathers past were just as precious. What he spoke of no was that her mother had been bitten by a vampire in childhood, and had suffered with the symptoms ever since.

As a born vampire Aster had cravings for blood, a sensitivity to sunlight, and an allergy to garlic. She did not NEED blood to survive, but required a strong red meat diet and struggled with anemia. He mother had given her many tips of advice on how to fit in with the other students and had warned her that if people knew what she was that she could get expelled out of necessity. The headmaster of the school had come to her house to discuss with her mother the details on her special treatment at school.

In all honesty, being a vampire wasn't that difficult. Now days vampires, especially the ones born that way such as herself, could fit in fine at school... but old lore about vampires kept normal witches and wizards wary of them. At every meal there would be at least one item provided that was specialized to her dietary needs, and she would be permitted to stay in the shade for outdoor classes. Her mother had packed her a stash of blood-pops for the year as an occasional treat. Blood consumption wasn't needed, but it was still delicious.

She had been warned that biting another student could be grounds for expulsion, even though biting someone was not enough to turn them. To turn someone into a vampire she would need to completely drain them of blood and then feed them her own blood, a very tedious and non-accidental task. There were a great number of laws surrounding the subject, and turning anyone before they were 18 could get her sent to Askaban. These were things her mother had been teaching her about her whole life.

All in all... This made Aster "Daughter of the Dead and the Damned".