A/N: I own nothing. Except the storyline and Astraea. The rest is J.K's
This is my first real story, criticism is appreciated but try to make it constructive. :P
Summary: Astraea had always known she was 'darker' than others, and everyone else had too. It was just inside of her, as it was inside of everyone else… It was just a matter of how much. After the war was over, she found out that everything she knew was a lie. This is her story of finding and embracing her darkness, and of her vengeance on those who betrayed her. Time travel, Luna, Voldemort and probably a few mature scenes later. Possible femslash. I'm not sure yet.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
May 10th, 1998
Astraea couldn't believe what she was hearing, after all she had given to help him, to help them… After she lost her entire family tohis cause, so that he could fight…. Though her parents and brother… their deaths were needless. But still, they died in his name, for his fight. Her brother, in the wrong place at the wrong time. A sweet innocent 9 year old boy… torn apart by the death eaters for his family's misguided support of Harry Potter. Her sister, struck down after much torture during the battle of mysteries. And now her so called friends, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter, the boy who lived. The chosen one, the conqueror….
Whatever you want to call him, I don't care. He was always just my friend Harry, and here he is saying how 'dark' and 'dangerous' I am.
"… So do you see it now Astraea? We only started being friends with you again after what you did to Justin in second year because Dumbledore told us we could use you to win this war. But we never really liked you after that….….. What you did was evil and sick, yea you might not have killed him but that was DARK, Astraea… You're sick, everything you do is sick. We only kept you around because you were a valuable weapon that helped us win the war. …But we don't want anything to do with you….. The war is over….We don't need you." Harry's - No, Potter's lips moved, and the words came out.
I should have seen this coming… I knew it all along, I was nothing but a pawn… In a sick fucking game.
"Your heart is filled with darkness and evil and hate, Astraea, and we want nothing to do with it. You will taint us. The war is over now, and so is our so called friendship. I think it'd be best if you just leave" Granger said calmly, but Astraea wasn't really listening, there had been a jolt-like feeling in her gut, and her eyes snapped to the door of Black Family Library, she needed something in there.
But what?
"So I think you should just pack up your things and leave. You can't stay here, I don't know where you're going, but it's not really my concern. This is my home and I don't want you contaminating it or my family and friends." Potter's eyes were fixed on hers, she merely nodded before turning towards her bedroom to gather her belongings. She always knew deep down she was nothing to them. She isn't darkness, she simply has more in her than the average witch… but everyone has darkness in them… don't they? As she moved around the room, packing away clothes and objects she was pleasantly surprised when the expected tears did not fall. She raised a hand to her face and felt herself smile, though the sensation was far away…
It doesn't hurt, because I don't care… because I always saw this coming. There is no darkness in my heart, because my heart is hollow. Maybe what they mean to say is that darkness is in everything I am. And they'd be right… But I used it for the light, and I would have continued to do so… But why is he so keen to make me an enemy? If I was such a good 'weapon' then why would he want to put me on his bad side? The smart thing to do would be to keep me around, or put me down. Not that he, or any of them could… Even if they tried.
From down the hall she could hear the trio conversing, she couldn't make out most of it but managed to hear Weasley's crude voice say "Thank merlin we're getting rid of her finally." Hearing this had surprisingly not effect on her, maybe it would later… but right then she didn't feel a thing. Moving her way to the door she glanced up at them, and received questioning and disdainful looks.
"What?" Potter asks, his face bearing a small grimace as if even looking at her made him sick to his stomach. She had to suppress a derisive snort at the expression on all of their faces.
"I need to get things from other corners of the house. Things are scattered a bit… Excuse me" She whispered, staring into his eyes as she moved past him. They separated slightly at first before Weasley and Granger walked off to their bedroom hand in hand.
Disgusting, the both of them.
She looked back at Potter, he nodded stiffly before returning to his room and closing the door, a small click signaling the locking of it.
They're so afraid of being infected by me they aren't even watching me, someone they apparently don't trust, going through the house.. Idiots.
She turned towards the library and headed in to retrieve a few things. But before she had even walked through the doorway, she heard Potter's voice sound from his bedroom "I want you gone within the hour, so don't take forever with that." There was such coldness in his voice, unsurprising she supposed… With a practiced flick of her small wrist she felt the magic inside of her give a slight pull as privacy wards set themselves up. They were weaker than usual, but more enough to keep her from being watched, and let her know if someone was there. Astraea's insides squirmed gently as she made her way to the desk she often used, packing the many notebooks, parchments, quills and ink wells into her expanded and weightless moleskein pouch. As she packed away the last of her things she felt yet another jolt hit her in the stomach,
what is this? she asked herself.
It felt as if something was tugging her to a bookshelf on the far east wall. She allowed the pull, finding herself face to face with the tall shelves of books. The Black family library was one of the most extensive ones she'd seen other than Hogwarts', of course… But this one centered more around dark, ancient and powerful magicks, that which interested her more than anything. She took a look around the dark, musty room where countless titles beamed at her from their shelves, fascinating unknown magic just waiting to be learned and put to practice. Many of which she'd never read now… A small sigh had escaped her lips as she turned her full attention to the bookshelf in front of her. She slowly outstretched her right hand, gliding her fingers across the shelves as she closely read every title at a speed most couldn't believe. Finally her eyes found a curious sight, a thick black book that looked ancient. It had no title on it's spine, only a detailed illustration of a beautiful dagger made of gold and silver… She ran her index finger over it, examining it closely. The handle of the blade was set with a large amethyst and the blade itself was covered in runes, and dripping what looked like thick black blood from its point. Casting a careful eye around she grasped the book firmly by its spine before sliding it into the moleskein pouch quickly. Silently she summoned about 10 other books she thought she might need, or had at least been wanting to read, she quickly duplicated them and sent the duplicated zooming to their places on the shelves before packing the others with her other things. She ended the warding and silencing charms with a flick of her wand and a quiet murmur of "Finite incantatem"
Silently making her way back to what had been her bedroom she flicked her wand again, summoning the remainder of her belongings to her bedroom and quickly charming all of the unpacked objects to pack themselves up neatly in her expanded and feather-weight black trunk, including her moleskein pouch and a large black box that she had been left by her Aunt but had never opened. She had received it when she was 6 and had never once managed to get it open, nor had anyone else. Once her trunk was packed and locked she quick another cursory glance around the room.
It's time to go… Goodbye to this life.
She pulled a thick black cloak over her, fastening it at her chin before whirling out of the room quietly, trunk in hand, wand harnessed at her hip. She made her way past the bedrooms of her once 'friend's without a word. They knew she was leaving, she knew they knew. But neither party saw a point in maintaining a cordial pretense by bidding each other farewell. She was unwanted there, and she accepted it. Once she reached the steps of 12 Grimmauld Place she disapparated with a crack to the gates of her old family home that she hadn't returned to since the deaths of her mother, father and brother. It had been cleaned, fixed and returned to its former glamorous appearance, but was still stained with memories of torture, pain and death.
I'm home… she thought as she pushed herself through the wards and the previously-solid gate of the Whitehall Manor in Hampshire.
