But of Waters and Abyss

We all are Made After all

Chapter 0 - Uncertainties and Possibilities.

Amber was watching the clear sky above Hogwarts grounds. The open window allowed her to breathe in the warm air of summer that was about to end. Everything had changed so quickly that sometimes she feared to close her eyes, uncertain if the reality around her could have changed even further. She couldn't have imagined that bloody summer provided her the possibility to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wasn't a witch, not at birth. Her past was still haunting her in nightmares, making her suffocate at the weight of her memories. Everything that revolved around magic was new to her. It was unbelievable! Despite this, she liked to think that September 1st would be a fresh new start. She found herself a little excited about the imminent start of her new school. Everything in her was shattered so instead of trying to put the pieces back together, she was aiming to walk on a new path. It was not what she had wanted for herself, but still, the unexpected opportunity was a chance at a new life.

Amber's gaze drifted back to her temporary room that the headmaster Dumbledore had given her. She was in a room in the teachers' quarters. She had to wait to be sorted into one of the four houses and then she would be forced to move and share a room with other girls. She didn't like it. She wasn't ready to share a room with people she didn't know but, change was necessary for a fresh start. She was trying to force herself to accept all the new and magical things that were coming in her life. Roommates was of course one of it. The room was a real mess of tangled of parchments and books. Her belongings boiled down to her reading books, clothes and two plushies. Her school things were all around the floor and her wand was on the bed, tossed there the exact moment she had entered the room. She was forced to use it during lessons and that, for her, was more than enough. The less she used it the better of she was.

Amber had worked hard for the last three months to make up for the magical subjects she had not been a part of for four years. She had already met her new professors when she was being tutored to prepare for Wizarding School. She carried herself to her bed and reluctantly picked up her wand. She snorted, disgusted by the piece of wood in her hand. She treated the foreign object as if it was infected and walked over to the opened window. She smirked, ready to rid herself of the wand. Just when she was about to toss the wand out of the window a voice stopped her.

"If I were you I wouldn't do that Ms. Woods." Dumbledore interrupted.

He stood at the doorway of her room and lightly smiled.

"Oh, I forgot to knock." Dumbledore continued after appraising the shock on Amber's face.

He knocked on the door as if doing so could make amends. Amber lowed slowly her hand, the grip still firm on the hated wand. She watched it for a second and then she moved her gaze to the headmaster. She couldn't stand his piercing eyes and she lowered her gaze to her feet. She looked like a scolded-kid. There was an infinite minute of silence until Dumbledore started to speak.

"I am truly sorry for your unfortunate situation, miss, but I will advise you to not try to destroy or lose what is now your own wand." He looked at her above his half-moon spectacles with serious eyes.

"Yeah, I understand." She replies and doesn't dare look him straight in the eyes again.

He gave her a nod and continued with the speech.

"That being said, it is not like I can't sympathize with you, Ms. Woods. I highly recommend that you don't think about the wand as your enemy. You must remember that it is only a piece of wood, at the end of the day. As a muggle, it is important that you understand that people are the true power behind wands. Yes, wands revolve around magic, but it can't perform magic without you. Your wand needs your will to accomplish magic."

She understood that, of course she did, but everything that revolved around the wand was sick and made her only want to puke.

"Sir, are you sure there is no other choice? I mean, there are plenty of other wands," she sighed and then uneasily continued with, "Why do I have to keep this one? Why?"

Her voice was cracking from the memories of that night and she felt like she was breaking. Her eyes became slightly red as tears wanted to fall, but she didn't want to surrender to them. She wanted to withstand them. She needed to be strong now.

"I'm afraid there is no other choice. The wand chose you that night. That wand will be your only wand. Whether you admit it or not, regardless of whether you wanted it to or not, that wand saved your life."

Amber nodded, afraid that talking would have meant letting the tears fall down. She didn't want to cry, not anymore.

That wand chose her. It's the wand that chooses the witch, not the reverse. That wand, God knows why, wanted her. She couldn't run away from this curse. It doesn't matter how much she wanted to, the trail of blood would always follow her through that damned Larch wand. Not to mention, after all that Dumbledore had done for her, she knew she couldn't disrespect him. She acknowledged his efforts to give her a new life; she had somewhere to stay.

"Thank you, sir, for all that you have done for me. I'll never be grateful enough." She said after a long silence with the most resolute voice she could have made at that moment.

"Ah but Miss Woods, you have already paid me enough by accepting to attend Hogwarts for the years that will come." Dumbledore warmly smiles.

I can't help but kindly smile back.

"I have to leave you now, but I do hope your heart is lighter," He nodded to himself and he started walk away before return to her, "One last thing. Don't be so hard with yourself and give yourself time. Time is a great ally with wounds. Even though some wounds will never disappear entirely they can be still be healed."

Amber watched Dumbledore disappear before her eyes. She turned and watched her reflected image in the window, her wand in her hand. She couldn't see a witch. She couldn't see wounds. She could only see a murderer.

-oIo-

Nothing is ever like your home. Nothing else can give you the comfort of being in the right place completely safe. Regulus had never felt this way when he was at home, especially after his older brother abandoned this family, his family. Sirius turned his back to his own bloodline becoming a blood traitor, an exile. Regulus remembered vividly his mother burning Sirius's image on the family tapestry. No one had shed any tears when Sirius ran away. He was no longer part of the family. Sometimes it didn't feel like Sirius was ever part of the family. Sirius was too different from Regulus. They didn't share anything in common except for the blood that ran through their veins and their physical features: both had grey eyes, raven hair, and the same haughty good looks, nothing more. He hated from the bottom of his heart to be associated with such a traitor like Sirius.

Soon he would have to leave his home and go back to Hogwarts for his 5th year of school. He didn't want to think that going back to Hogwarts was a salvation, freedom from his family. He wasn't his brother, Sirius, but Regulus acknowledged that he felt a strange uneasiness since the start of summer. He couldn't explain why, but something in his guts was bothering him. Something seemed off, like something really bad had happened. Nothing bad had happen lately. He never felt like this in his life, not after Sirius had left them. Why he was feeling this way was a mystery to him, but he didn't want to care too much about it. He snapped from his thoughts when Kreacher entered his room without any warning.

"Master Regulus, Madame Walburga sent Kreacher to his young master to tell him she needs to talk with him. And she says it's urgent, master, really urgent." He bowed to Regulus and then left the room closing the door.

Regulus rolled over the bed now facing the ceiling of his room, his arms behind his head. Now the weight of the prestigious heritage of the ancient Black family is on his young shoulders. He can't make any mistakes. Failure isn't an option. He's a Black; he is not a common wizard. He is the son of one of the purest bloodline that is still alive. He is born to be better than the others; he is born for rule. He hasn't any other possibilities. He is Regulus Arcturus Black.

A/N: Welcome to the 2.0 version of these fanfic! This is a revisioned version written in a good english. Why? Because the sweet Dancing-Souls offered her help to beta testing what I'm going to write. English isn't my first language so...I wanted to publish this story I had on my mind lately so bad no matter what. I hope people will understand that I'm really trying hard on this ~ Thanks to all and at the end I want to point out that reviews are appreciate and help me improve. For real, 'cause sometimes I get lost in this language. I'll replay to all of them.

M: right now it's mostly for the language and the dark thematic will come eventually.

This is going to be a longfic so maybe it starts slowly, I don't know, but I promise I have everything on my mind and the big parts are waiting to come (?).