Walk with a young, female Slytherin in the days of the Marauders. Watch her suffer through abuse, persecution and dejection trying to survive, and sympathize with her as she struggles in a man-dominated world. Then finally, rejoice with her as she takes the vengeance she deserves.

A/N: Well, let me briefly explain what this is all about. This is a spin off from an OC I invented during my story Cerulean Skies. I liked her so much I've decided to explain to the world why she is the way she is. Here she is two years younger than the marauders, but don't worry they will feature significantly throughout her short stay at Hogwarts. And Snape and his crew. Definitely worth a shot. Has dark moments but I try and lighten it with lots of humour (more so after the first chapter) and make it fun for the characters, too.

Basically, Snape's parents are dead and his house has fallen into the hands of "family friends" who will care for it until he comes of age. Meanwhile he spends the year at Hogwarts having a 'great' time.

We will begin this story on the morning of February 14th 1974, in the highest room of the tallest tower ...

The Volterra Legends

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Her life was hard; although her father was harder. But it was her own fault, of course. She made it this way, as her father told her. She was the worthless piece of filth that had caused her family to fall from grace, socially rejected. If it wasn't for the bond of blood between them, he would have "disowned the parasite". What sort of child would drive her mother to madness, before death? Then be so wicked as to have cursed her family, bringing it to ruins? It was her fault. She was the reason they had to co-habit in that Manor crawling with insane, diseased house elves. A child so fiendish and decadent had to be punished, lest she turns out like that traitorous offspring of Snape, Slytherin forbid...

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Ursula opened her eyes and found herself shrouded in a dense veil of darkness. The only clues as to her location were the distinct pong of bird faeces and the chill wind that gusted and whistled in through every crack around the small, stone room. As she lay, for a blissful few minutes she couldn't remember anything about last night. Then as she tried to sit up, however, it all came flooding back to her; bringing with it a throbbing headache that combined with the unpleasant odour of decay, made her feel rather faint.

Slowly, she attempted to edge herself off the moss-covered floor with one hand. Unfortunately, she overestimated herself and the weight of her small body came crashing down on her other, injured arm. Cringing with the pain, the girl decided to roll herself onto her knees instead. After about the third roll, and much whimpering later, Ursula had managed to get to her feet, only to find that her legs refused to work as well.

Suddenly, she noticed that the constant background chorus of birds had gone from the tower. Something inside told her that this was never a good sign. Gradually, she found her way over to the stone wall were she fumbled around for a familiar wooden panel. When her fingers wrapped around a metal catch, however, she almost fell backwards with surprise. The stone on which she was leaning, rearranged itself into a window frame that happened to be a rather terrifying distance from the ground. But the thing that startled her most was the delicate, ice-cold, white puff that landed on her nose as she peered outside. Her body, now pulsing with excitement and surprise, almost fell out of the tower as she shoved her head eagerly out the window; the girl felt her insides leap with hope as she watched more puffs float lazily down from the sky, coating everything they touched in a soft, white blanket.

"Chorazin!" she called. As she did so, Ursula spotted a slight rustle in the dark depths of the forest below. After a moment, the trees seemed to part slightly of their own accord, allowing the snow to penetrate the darkness. Then, as she looked, two glowing white eyes appeared, hovering in the undergrowth. "Chorazin, elthe deuro!" At once the pair of eyes shot upwards out of the darkness into the light, revealing also a long, skeletal-thin black form, with bat-like wings. The somewhat graceful beast swept through the air, its wings swirling the snow and shaking it from the highest branches.

The girl laughed as she watched the unusual antics of the Thestral, wondering if it had ever seen snow before. Eventually, it wheeled itself round and beat its wings to reach the level of her window. After a few circles round the tower, Ursula called it to her. Just when it seemed to have disappeared, she heard the thumps as its hooves landed unsteadily on the slate roof above, causing worrying amounts of dust and dirt to fall from the rafters. Slowly, it pawed at the tiles, loosening them until they slid off. When enough had fallen into the gutter, the creature lowered its head into the room, not a bit repulsed by the stench. Somehow, it then half fell, half jumped through the small gap, landing on the slippery floor. The girl wrapped her good arm around its neck and used her legs to pull herself into a safer position. With a gentle caress and a soft word, the beast buckled his hind legs and propelled itself back through the roof and out into the fresh air once again. Even the way it moved told how much it enjoyed the thrill of freedom.

Abruptly, it swept down towards the dense forest of conifers, its tail skimming the treetops, until it came to narrow stream. Looking down, the girl spotted a swarm of curious-looking water nymphs as they fished for morsels in the freezing waters. These temperatures seemed strangely agreeable to the tiny creatures as they playfully dodged and punched the snowflakes. Although they seemed cute, however, she was well aware they could do damage in their numbers, if they felt like it.

Gliding on the wind, they flew on until she saw a grey pinnacle form on the horizon; the castle. The soaring, fearless feeling that flying had inspired in her, immediately dissolved. All too soon, they had reached the Manor; the place where all her nightmares lurked in the shadows. Ursula urged the Thestral to slow down; it wasn't as if she was eager to get there. Swooping over the trees, she watched as startled birds squawked and flapped away to a safer tree. She also noticed Chorazin staring hungrily after them as they sped off.

When they reached the castle, they flew around the back to where the outside balcony was. Her eyes flitting around nervously, she spied that Rosetta's curtains were still closed. "Nicely timed, my friend, now we can both eat." The Thestral glided over to the rear balcony, high above the ground, and landed noiselessly on the snow-covered stone. After sliding off awkwardly, the girl stroked the creature with appreciation before walking over to a pair of tall, dark-wooded doors which locked externally.

The small girl stood at the base of it and looked up where she saw a large stone carved into the face of a gargoyle. Its face was contorted horribly, so badly in fact, that she was unable to tell if it was awake or not. She coughed loudly. Nothing. She coughed again. Snow continued to settle calmly on its grotesque features.

"Hey, any time today, brickface!" Her loud voice didn't seem to penetrate its thick head, but something made her suspect otherwise. 'Brickface' was not usually an insult the gargoyle could ignore. Reaching down, she filled in her fist a thick clump of snow. Then, compressing it, she took aim and fired it hard. The addressed thing made an awkward snort, removing snow from its large nostrils and lazily peeled its eyes open, wincing at the light. "Had a rough night on the rocks, did we?" she asked, raising a thin black eyebrow to emphasize her mock concern.

"What d'you want, brat?" it growled.

"What does it look like?" she retorted sarcastically, contrasting with her innocent smile. She reached down and fired another snowball at it before it could 'fall asleep' again. It growled angrily at her. Apparently snow up a gargoyle's nose was irritating...

"Pleeease?" she asked all too nicely. After another growl of annoyance, the tall doors groaned and pulled themselves open. "About time, too" the girl added as she entered the room.

Upon entering the dark room, she walked over to the house-elf waiting stolidly by the far door, carrying a heavy silver tray laden with food. Looking down at the food - a plate of bacon, chicken, toast and a bowl of cereal - she selected the meat pieces and took them over to the Thestral as a reward. When it had eaten, she gently patted its nose before it unfolded its reptilian wings and swept back towards the forest, leaving Ursula standing in a blizzard of snow and her own long, black hair which whipped capriciously at her face.

Turning back to the house-elf and shutting the door, she ushered it over to the bed where she speedily ate the remains of her breakfast as quickly as she could. After dismissing the elf, Ursula walked over to her desk and gazed upon herself in the mirror with disgust. Her thick hair was uncombed and rebellious. Her thin face was smeared with dirt and blood; whether or not it was hers she didn't know. Her nails, too, where broken and caked with grime from the floor of the tower. She looked worse than the rats one would find crawling around Knockturn Alley. As she further explored her pain threshold by attempting to take off her robes with one hand, the house-elf reappeared with a ceramic bowl exuding steam.

"What are you doing back here? What's that?" she inquired suspiciously. The creature grunted something about orders and dumped the bowl in front of her. Suddenly, the elf took her good arm and immersed it in the hot water, causing her to make faces and yell at him for his stupidity. But before she knew it, he was scrubbing at her skin until she resigned herself to the fact that she was after-all being cleaned, albeit by an elf. Watching in the mirror as her face was washed, the black smudges disappeared but red patched appeared elsewhere, and they stung when touched. Ignoring the house-elf's crazy muttering, she threw open a drawer and pulled out a small vial of a clear liquid. Applying it like perfume, she put it all over her wounded areas, including her right arm, and then downed the rest of its contents.

After the elf was done, she dismissed him and went to her wardrobe, beginning to undress. As her shirt slid over her pale shoulders, she got the distinct feeling she was being watched. Turning her head around slowly, Ursula quickly spied a large pair of bulging eyes peeking around the edge of the door. Without a word, she grabbed the closest object (a vase) and flung it in that direction with all her anger. The elf was gone before the vase smashed against the back of the door; she could hear it sniggering as it walked away.

"Filthy creep" she muttered as she hastily changed into a clean shirt.

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"You're late." The woman sitting primly behind the desk stated this in a way which made Ursula unsure as to whether it was a statement or a question.

"Yes, I... had a house-elf problem." Ursula stood stiffly before the desk trying desperately to sound like she was telling the truth, because she was, for once.

"Is that so?" the woman asked, looking over her thin glasses at the small girl.

"Yes, it wouldn't go away... which meant I couldn't get dressed." She added this last bit to avoid further questions and was surprised with the reply she got from her governess.

"Really? That's disgusting. I have never met such disrespectful house-elves. This I am definitely reporting. What was its name?" Ursula filled her in on the menial details and took a seat when she was finished. The small table at which she sat was already covered in parchments and textbooks of varying ages and sizes.

"How did you find your assignment for today?" the woman asked formally.

"Fine." Ursula replied and passed over two rolls of parchment with her left hand, and waited as her governess scanned the material.

"I think you like this topic."

"The Ancient Greeks had a lot of wisdom to share. I suppose I got carried away." The woman smiled encouragingly. Her face wasn't lined with age, yet her dappled green eyes radiated wisdom.

"Good! Now let's see what else you have there..."

After two hours had passed by slowly, varying from animated discussion to minutes of silence broken only by the scratching of quills on parchment, Rosetta looked up and noticed something peculiar.

"Why are you writing with your left hand Ursula?" The girl hesitated in her answer, unsure as how to evade telling the truth.

"Because... if my right hand should ever become injured, it would be... beneficial to be able to write with the other, wouldn't it?" What a lame excuse, Volterra, you prune! She'll never buy it... she knows you too well, Ursula thought as she locked eyes with Rosetta.

"Hmm. Well you've been writing like that for long enough now. Switch back." Their eyes still focused on each other coolly, Ursula smiled faintly and shifted position. Carefully, she began to write. Initially, she felt no pain, but as her governess continued to watch her, the potion taken earlier seemed to wear off and her wrist ached once more. Yet Ursula was determined that it shouldn't show. To do so, would be to hand the enemy the weapon of weakness, as her father would say. With her teeth clenched, she buried her face in the parchment and plodded on, barely concentrating on what she was writing, until her eyes filled with more tears than she could see through.

"Ursula, are you alright?" a concerned voice sounded from above. All she could do was nod. "Are you sure?" the voice didn't believe her. Rosetta stood up and knelt beside the girl, laying a hand on her upper arm. "It's your arm, isn't it?" she began. "Come here, let's see –"

"No! I'm fine; I don't need your help!" Ursula burst out, suddenly, pulling her arm away, painfully. At this the suddenly woman stood up with a scowl on her face.

"Ursula Volterra, who do you think you are, saying you don't need help, especially when it's offered so freely? I am not impressed at your lack of appreciation. Now we will get that arm healed up as soon as possible, understand?" Rosetta was hurt by Ursula's rejection. To her, it translated as a lack of trust, and trust was important to her. Ursula sensed this in her eyes and regretted it. Slowly she tilted back her head and looked at the older woman.

"Rosetta you don't understand. It happened for a reason and I will not give anyone the pleasure of seeing me suffer." She said through clenched teeth with an air of forced patience.

"No-one is going to see you suffer, and if they do, cursed be the one who takes pleasure from it." Rose bent down and looked into her eyes. "Pride can only fight your battles for so long, and then you will become ashamed," she rested her hand once again on the girl's arm "and have a lasting scar to remind you of it everyday. And don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I live here too." The woman's English was now laced with a soft Italian accent, which was rather calming. Ursula finally relented and went to rest on a more comfortable chair in the drawing room while being healed. She calmly let Rose's hands move over her arm without flinching. She was charged with her protection and education, being a trained Healer, and Ursula trusted her, even if sometimes she was overly wary.

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Only request: read & review. Simple. Any questions, please ask.