This is my first fanfiction that I'm writing on , but I've been writing fanfiction for a while. Only in the past few months did I figure out what a Mary Sue was, and since my main protagonist is an OC, please let me know if she is Mary Sue-ish or if any characters from the HP series are OOC (I think I have a real problem with that, especially when it comes to writing Snape. Sometimes I have to rewrite a scene three or four times before I'm satisfied, and even then, I might go back and change it later to fit the character's personality better. Sad, huh?). Anyway, tips and constructive criticism are appreciated, so please review and I hope you like the story!
Chapter 1
The first time anyone saw Amora Winthrop was in Potions class on a Monday morning. 12-year-old Harry was busy trying to keep his Juvenile Draught of Antigravity (which only made the consumer feel as though he or she were floating, to everyone's disappointment) from exploding in his face, Seamus, to his left, was not so lucky, his having blown up half an hour ago. Ron's, too, had suffered complications – his was shriveled and black at the bottom of his cauldron. "I'm done for," he said gloomily, his chin propped up in his hands as Snape began making his rounds to examine their progress.
"Er…" Harry wasn't sure how to respond. Should he lie and reassure his friend, or tell the truth? Before he could decide, the dungeon door came swinging open and Albus Dumbledore walked in, his robes trailing slightly, a twinkle in his eye. Every student who had been slacking off quickly busied themselves with something or the other.
"Severus," he called, "I was wondering if you could spare a moment?" To his credit, Snape tried valiantly to remove the scowl on his face, but it only became a painful grimace. "Unsuccessful potions, I take it?" Albus inquired as yet another student managed to botch their Draught, leaving green fog pouring out of the cauldron with green flames licking the edges. "Aguamenti." He waved his wand and the fire was quenched. Neville looked at the headmaster gratefully, and he smiled kindly in response before turning his attention back to Snape and becoming serious.
Uh-oh. Snape sensed he would not like this next news.
"A very old Wizarding family has recently – well, last year – lost a family member, the patriarch of their family, in fact. His daughter is 12 years old and in need of schooling, as her father taught her before. She has already been privately Sorted in my office and as it so happens, she is in your house, Severus. A second year."
The urge to scowl was now almost insuppressible.
"No student has ever been allowed to attend without first receiving their letters in their first year," he said carefully. "I don't think this is fair to the other students. She may well have a head start on her courses, due to her home schooling—"
"Miss Winthrop did receive her letter," Dumbledore interrupted, his voice soft but with a firmness that warned Severus against asking too many questions. All at once, he was tired of always being kept in the dark about everything, and longed to rage, if only briefly, at Dumbledore. "Last year, shortly before her father's death, as a matter of fact. However, the family refused on the grounds that it was imperative she learn alone, without the distractions of a social life or other people surrounding her on a daily basis. Of course, I expressed my… disapproval of this chosen path in my next letter, but there was no reply. Somehow, I was not surprised." He sighed, and then brightened. "But the girl seems to have had other ideas, and she worked very hard to ensure she could come; at least, that is what her cousin has told me."
Snape was still feeling a bit mutinous, but he held his tongue, dreading the moment he had to meet the girl whose childhood sounded so much like his own – lonely. "It will be difficult for her to catch up to the other students. We are already into October."
"I think she'll manage," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "If not particularly nurturing, her father was a great teacher and she's quite knowledgeable on a number of subjects, or so her cousin boasted. I suppose only time will tell what we ought to make of this new student, hmm?"
Snape was still wondering about the "nurturing" comment. It took him a second before he registered that Dumbledore expected a reply. "Indeed."
"Good," the headmaster nodded. "I'll bring her in." He swept toward the door.
"Wait, not in the middle of class!" Snape protested, his unease with the new girl spilling over into his voice, causing several students to look at him strangely. But Dumbledore either failed or chose not to hear, as he gestured for someone outside to come in. Students immediately took notice.
She had a light complexion, with aquamarine blue eyes and chin-length messy black hair. It hung around her face, slightly frizzy but her bangs framed her bright eyes in a way that was actually sort of interesting; at least, that's what Snape assumed, judging from the way several boys were looking at her, and he couldn't see any other particularly unique qualities in her features. She gazed unflinchingly around the room and seemed to straighten up. However, Snape caught the questioning look she threw at him. He ignored this, so she glanced at Dumbledore. He sighed rather heavily and muttered to Snape, "She is your student, so you should tell her where she is to sit."
Snape recovered himself, starting to get bored with the situation. All apprehension was vanishing now that he was seeing how supremely ordinary this girl looked and acted. Why should he feel such disquiet when clearly she was not out for attention, unlike others he knew of? "Over there, last row, next to Miss Parkinson." Pansy looked infuriated, as she'd been storing her rather large black dragon-skin purse on that chair. Scoffing angrily, she dumped her textbooks off the chair and slammed them on the floor, carefully balancing her purse on top. Seemingly unperturbed, the new girl made her way to the back, setting her black bookbag on the floor and settling into her seat without a word. As Dumbledore left and the door swung shut, he barked, "Well, do you plan on telling us your name or should we guess?"
Several Gryffindors protested loudly against this rude treatment of the new girl, including Weasley and Potter, but he scarcely noticed. The disquiet was back. Either she was very shy or she wasn't normal. Given the fact that this was Hogwarts, a perpetual magnet for trouble, he guessed it was the latter.
"No, it's alright," the girl addressed the angry Gryffindors. "My name is Amora Winthrop." Several Slytherins glanced at each other, some exchanging startled looks, others pleased.
"That old, infamous family! One of their daughters is in Slytherin?" "You know, the Winthrops are one of the oldest pureblood families." "Very antisocial, I heard." Whispers ran amok. Snape was annoyed. Was he the only one unfamiliar with her and her family? No, apparently not. The Gryffindors, with the exception, of Granger, Weasley, and Seamus Finnigan, looked confused, too. He wasn't comforted.
"Get a book, Miss Winthrop, third cabinet from the left. Second year book. We are on page 28, Juvenile Draught of Antigravity."
Amora obediently got up and retrieved a book. Snape completely ignored her for the rest of class, feeling uncomfortable with her silence, for reasons he didn't quite know. But when it came time to grade their Draughts at the end of class, he couldn't ignore her any longer.
"It's perfect!" Ron Weasley was right behind her as she presented a vial of her work to her professor. "How did she do that?!"
"It is very good," Snape admitted reluctantly, hating the fact that her work was worthy of a compliment on her first day. "You learned this from your father?"
"No, this I learned on my own. I've been working for the better part of four months to make sure I'm not behind." She shrugged. "What Father had to teach me had little to do with... this brand of education." There was a short silence as everyone but Snape tried to decipher those words; to be frank, he didn't care.
"5 points from Gryffindor, for skipping ahead and showing off," he said softly. There were cries of outrage from Gryffindors.
"But she didn't realize we hadn't reached this chapter yet! She didn't know! You can't hold it against her for studying hard!" Potter protested angrily.
"Hold on… I thought she was a Slytherin," Hermione Granger said slowly. "I mean, that's why you were sent directly to Professor Snape's classrooms, right?" She turned to Amora, who just shrugged.
"Hey, you are in Slytherin," Dean Thomas whistled. "Sorry, you just seem too nice for that house." There were cries of outrage from Slytherin, especially Malfoy. Amora's face had become frozen – impassive – her eyes fixed on the stone floor. Unnoticed, she walked slowly back to her seat. She didn't seem to notice or care that everyone was talking and arguing about her and the House in which she'd been Sorted.
Snape went back to ignoring her, grateful for the fact that his almost unexplainable slip-up was forgotten.
* * *
Harry was leaving the classroom when he heard the soft voice murmur, "Reparo." He turned and saw Amora fixing a long tear that had opened up her bookbag. "Probably Pansy's doing. I don't think she's very fond of me," she smiled a little sadly, her eyes on the floor as she gathered her fallen pens and sheets of paper. "You're Harry Potter," she added, tightening the cap on her jar of ink.
"Need help?" he asked, and she finally glanced up, looking surprised. He averted his eyes. "Sure," she murmured. "Thank you."
He noticed there was no parchment among her various papers. "Don't you have any parchment?"
She hesitated. "Well, no. Do I need it?"
"It's what we all use. I can't even remember the last time I saw… normal paper."
"Hmm. My family never… I mean… could I borrow some? From you, I mean. I didn't know we needed it."
"Oh… lemme get some out." A moment later, he handed over his spare parchment to her. She smiled gratefully. "Thank you. Again."
"The two of you – hurry up!" Snape's voice cut through the air like a whip. Amora flinched and stuffed everything into her bag. "He's so mean!" She muttered. "Bye, Harry!" Then she ran out of the classroom. As he left, Harry couldn't help but notice the annoyed look Snape threw at the direction Amora had just gone.
* * *
Amora clutched her repaired bookbag, feeling humiliated and furious. Some first day… some first class… Bitterly, she recalled the indifferent look upon her professor's face, her neighbor's contempt and spite. That was real mature, Pansy. Breaking my bag. Very mature.
She pushed her way through the crowds, scowling at a third year as he tried to shove her aside. "Aren't you courteous?" She muttered, not meaning to say it out loud, but it came out, anyway. She hated days like today – days of the full moon. The days were always hell and left her in an edgy countenance. She wanted nothing more than to return to her dormitory and rage against the world, but it was not for a Winthrop to run from a problem. A Winthrop confronted and fixed any and all problems they might face. Her thoughts turned to her family, especially her favorite cousin Xena.
How strange… that my family – my race, actually – is destined for evil but that we should all be so good… well, almost all of us…
The rest of the day passed in an unhappy blur. When it was at last over, she rushed through the Slytherin common room and dumped her books on her bed, grabbed her Nimbus 2001 and hurtled out to the Quidditch field. To her dismay, she saw that there was already a team out there, clad in red and gold, practicing or perhaps playing a game. She dropped to the ground, half-hiding behind the corner of one of the stands, watching them. They were good, especially that Seeker whom she was sure was Harry. Imagine… Harry Potter at Hogwarts. Her family had never taken much of an interest in the business with Voldemort – it had always been none of their concern– but even news such as surviving a Killing Curse had reached their ears all those years ago.
"Oh!" A girl nearly tripped over Amora, a thick library book in her hands. Amora gasped and instinctively rolled away, but then she saw the girl, who was regaining her balance, and realized it was someone who meant no harm. Just as well, since she had next to no skill in defending herself, anyway.
"I'm sorry!" They both burst out at the same time. The other girl smiled; she had rather large front teeth. Hmm… makes her look a little bunny, especially with that button nose, Amora thought, feeling a little jealous. She thought it'd be grea to look like a bunny. "Oh… you're the new girl. Amora, right?"
"That's me," Amora nodded. "You're the Granger girl. You made a good potion."
"Yours was better," Granger replied, shifting her book into her bag. "It's Hermione. My name, that is."
"Oh, well, pleasure to meet you, Hermione." Amora smiled at her, though her heart wasn't in it. It was difficult to work up much of a smile or anything remotely positive on a full moon day. She hoped her bad mood didn't show in her face.
"Well, I guess I'd better be going. I promised Harry I'd stop by here and get his paper to him. He didn't do it very well and he needs it for Astronomy tonight."
"I see." The two girls stood awkwardly until Hermione gave a little wave and backed away. "Bye, Amora!"
"Bye, Hermione," Amora returned the wave, a few seconds too late. She, too, backed away. Then she turned, away from the Quidditch field, and ran straight to the Forbidden Forest, where she leapt into the sky on her broom as the sun began to set and the transformation began.
The broomstick clattered to the ground as she no longer had any need for it to stay in the sky. She screamed soundlessly, desperately trying to fight it – what if someone saw? – but it was no use.
She should've known it wouldn't be.