A/N I do not own anything you recognize, everything belongs to J.K Rowling and her brilliant, terrifying mind.
This is an OC story about a girl who comes to Hogwarts in her sixth year, during the Marauder's Era. Romance will ensue, but know that it will take time. Because this is an OC story, and I realize the rep they get for being unrealistic, I am determined to make this as believable as possible. There will be no crazy Mary Sue plot or instant connections, and therefore everything will develop slowly. I intend for this book to be a long one so strap in and I thank you in advance for tagging along. Please remember to leave reviews.
I hope you enjoy...
Prologue
It seems that on nights where evil spurs, it is darkest and most silent. It is as if the moon and the stars and the wolves and the owls hid away, for they did not want to bear witness to the horrors the night would bring.
On one particular night, deep into the countryside of England, there sat a manor atop a hill. The manor was large and mystical with its proud gate embellished with an elegant M, and a mysterious forest that surrounded the manor like a shield. All seemed peaceful, but one cannot be fooled for on this night, it was dark from the absence of the moon and silent from the lack of howls and hoots of the night's many creatures.
It was on this night that evil spurred.
It was on this night that screams would soon fill the silence of the night and a green mark of death would fill the darkness.
Fleamont Potter, a man years passed his middle age, tutted ruefully as he flipped through the newspaper on a particularly dreary summer morning.
"Another family was attacked."
His wife, Euphemia Potter rested the breakfast platter onto the table, looking downcast. Unfortunately, hearing this was not unexpected for this time was the darkest of many. "Were there any survivors?"
"Only two, mother and daughter. Father was killed and the mother was left in a poor state...things aren't looking well for her."
The older woman looked like she could cry. "And the girl?"
"She has no other family, it seems. They do not give any names, but she is sixteen."
At the last statement one could notice the fleeting pained look Euphemia had in her eyes as she regarded the two boys who she considered both as her sons.
James Potter noticed his mother's despair and placed a comforting hand on the back of hers. Sirius Black felt his heart drop at the sight of the woman who took him in as her own in such pain.
"Sixteen years of age? She is too young to have witnessed such things. And to be orphaned?" The older woman seemed hesitant to say the one thing everyone was thinking.
"She could very well be one of your friends," she finished sadly, unable to look the two boys in the eyes.
A hollow feeling set in around the breakfast table that morning, with a grieving silence for the family that they didn't know at all.
St. Mungo's was as busy as usual. Families were being directed to rooms, some with worry and some with joy. Patients walked the halls slowly, careful not to overexert themselves. New parents could be heard greeting the newborn child in their arms and others could be heard stifling painful grunts and screams. Children misbehaved, running up and down the corridors and healers spoke in comforting, calm tones.
But what one could have overlooked was the girl that sat alone on the floor, leaned against the wall. Long black hair was knotted in clumps, sweat dampened her scalp and blood had dried at her roots. Thin scratches carried down the length of her arms and much could be assumed for the rest of her body. What was most haunting of all however, was the look of anguish that made a home in her brown eyes. It was as if she couldn't see what was in front of her, for memories of horror flooded her sight.
It would not stay like this forever though. Soon the look of having witnessed evil would fade as the horrors would slowly become memories that rather haunted her in the back of her mind. In the absence, her eyes would carry emptiness instead.
Soon they would become as cold as ice.