A/N: I disclaim. I don't own Harry Potter or Avatar: The Last Airbender. I only own Kiara and her mother.
Fire Witch
"Punch, punch. Come on that's the way!" my instructor cheered. Zhao and I grunted as we punched our flames. We were young and full of energy, so much; we had to practice outside so we didn't burn down the building. Master Chang left to get inside. Zhao stopped but I continued.
"Why do you continue? This is break-time until 17:00." I still continued. "This training will make-" sparks shot out instead of flames. I did it again, but flames came again. I stared at my fists.
"What did you do" Zhao yelled. He dashed inside and came out with our master. "She did magic. I swear. You freak, do it again!" he pointed to me. Under my master's glare I punched again. Out came flames and sparks that engulfed my entire fist. I screamed in shock, incidentally inhaling the flames. It burned down my throat and stopped, probably at my voice box. The flames straightened out in my fist and solidified into a dark brown stick. It was smooth, pointed at one end and dully fat at the other end. I could hear Zhao talking to our master, telling him how weird I am while I stared at the polished wood in my hand.
"SHE'S A WITCH! WE HAVE TO BURN HER!" Zhao randomly yelled. I ran. I ran as fast as could. Past my home, past my nation, and past my life. Suddenly I felt as though I were being squeezed through a giant tube. I landed on my feet, feeling pain shooting up my leg, just to plummet down on hard rock.
"Do you think she'll be okay, Dad?" I heard, coming out my daze. "I do not know, James."
"Why does she look like a female us'?" the younger one said. I couldn't hear the older man's reply. The younger one, James, must be my age and the man, about my mother's age. They gasped when I opened my eyes. My mother told me that they were jet black with blue and purple weaving in and out. I couldn't tell because I see black and white no matter where I look. All I see when I look at my reflection is black and gray. I looked around until my eyes landed on them. I tilted my head to look innocent to try and get some food, but I was full, surprisingly.
"Hello there. My name is Anthony Potter and this is my son, James," he spoke as if I couldn't hear. I tried to reply but my speech box would not speak. I reached for my throat. When I grabbed it, I felt a burning pain. The flames! I realized.
"Are you okay?" James stepped forward with concern. I pointed at my throat. Then I bended some flames in my palm. He stepped back quickly. "Whoa," he stepped forward, curious.
Whilst his son was inspecting the flame, Anthony was staring at her.
"We have to give you a name," James spoke while leading me to my room; 3rd floor second door to the right, next to his. I mimicked putting a tiara on my head. "Tiara?" I shook my head. "Oh. Kiara?" I nodded. We did this for my last name. "Somersby is your last name?" I nodded.
"My dad used to talk about a Mary Somersby. She was the girl he dated before mum," he looked to me. "Are you two related?" Again I nodded. I mimicked holding a baby. "She's your mum? Who's your father…" he trailed off, looking into space. It dawned on me on what he was thinking. "That's why we look so alike. OH MERLIN! I'VE GOT A SISTER!" he was hugging me, it getting tighter with every word. "St-st-st," I stuttered in my burned voice. "Oh sorry," he let go.
"What's going on in here?" Mr. Potter walked into my room. He eyed the flames in the jar. He moved his eyes to us. I waved, hoping he'd forget the fact I was in a bath robe. "Hi dad," James gulped. "What's this about a sister, James?" he crossed his arms.
"Remember Mary Somersby?" he nodded. "Kiara's her daughter and you might be her father," he looked down to the comforter. It was silent for a while. I looked back and forth between the two.
"How about we go and check?" Anthony suggested. We nodded and headed to the kitchen. Anthony went through first, shouting "St. Mungos!" James went next. I grabbed some floo powder, stepped into the fire place, and shouted "St. Mungos." Once I got there, I was shoved into the nearest test room with James and his father. A lady in green robes came in with two needles. She drew blood from both our arms.
I'll be back in a sec," she walked out of the room. We sat awkwardly until she returned. "We have the results. Mr. Potter, meet your daughter. Ms. and Mr. Potter Sir could you come with me please." I looked to my father and stood up. Once outside she turned to me. "Where the bloody hell are you from, girl?"
"The Fire Nation, ma'am," I looked down and kicked the very clean floor.
"Where's that?"
"I'd rather you'd not talk to my daughter like that," my father imputed.
"Fine," she stalked off. "That was rude," he said.
