Disclaimer: Harry Potter may not be mine, but I can have fun with his world.
A.N. The bug bit me again to write, so I'm writing. I've been wanting to write my own fic for awhile, but, something always came up every time I went to write. So, now that I'm writing, let me just tell you that this will be about an OC, but in Harry's world. And this all is pre-HBP. Just so you know.
My Father
Prologue
Sarai Shulamith had an average life. Well, as normal a life you can lead while being a fully fledged witch.She lived with her mother in a small house in the countryside of France. Her mother, a skilled witch, had moved there shortly after finishing school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But the great mystery was why her mother had fled everyone she had known in favor of a quiet, almost nonexistent life in the middle of nowhere. Her mother was a legend in her time at school. She was very crafty, and excelled in her charm work and transfiguration skills.
It was understandable then, that Sarai was equally skilled in these areas. But what baffled her was where she got her extraordinary potions skills. She could brew anything she set her mind to, even the most complex potions in her mother's old Potions book. Her mother refused to tell her what it meant, but Sarai knew it had to do with her father.
Sarai never knew her father. As far as she knew, he fell off the face of the planet. Her mother never spoke of him, and whenever she tried asking questions, her mother told her to drop it, she was better off without him.
Whenever her mother spoke to her in the harsh tone that she did when it came to the subject of her father, Sarai got the impression that he did something horrible. Maybe so horrible that her mother could never allow him to be her father. Maybe, and Sarai shuddered to even think about it, maybe he had done something truly awful, like join up with Voldemort, that power-crazy nutter who ran around killing people he thought were "impure."
Sarai tried to forget about him. She really did. But at night, when she couldn't sleep, she would lay awake and imagine him. She knew she had to look something like him. The only things she could see that she got from her mother were her eyes. She had large, lovely deep blue eyes. Her hair was so much unlike her mother's, which was a rich honey brown. Sarai's hair was the deepest black imaginable, and her face was not her mother's at all. Her nose, it was her nose that threw everything off. Oh sure, it was an okay nose, but how she wished it was something other than what it was! It was not the cute, little nose of her mother's. It was large, but not so large as to be noticeable. It had a slight curve to it, almost hook shaped, but not quite. Her mother assured her she was as pretty as they come, but Sarai wasn't so sure. She almost hated her father for giving her that nose. But she knew she should really hate him for not being there for her.
From the time she was ten, she had been attending Beauxbatons Academy to establish her magical skills. Now, as she sat on her bed in her dormitory, a lovely young woman of fifteen, she reread the letter that she had just received from the headmistress, Madame Maxime.
Sarai had been summoned to the headmistress's office after dinner that evening. Wondering what she could have possibly done, she made her way through Beauxbatons Castle to the statue of Merlin, who guarded the headmistress's office door.
"Fleur blanche," she muttered.
Merlin swung forward and Sarai trudged up the stairs leading to the office. She knocked three times before entering.
"Good evening, Madame Maxime."
"Ah, good evening. Please, take a seat, mon cheri."
Sarai perched on the edge of a chintz armchair in front of Madame's desk.
"I 'ave received a letter for you. 'Eet eez most troubling. Mon cheri, I am most sorry." Madame handed her the parchment she was holding.
Sarai's heart had started pounding a ceaseless beat, sending blood flowing wildly throughout her body. She reached out a shaking hand and took it. It was an unfamiliar scrawl.
Sarai-
Your mother is ill. She's getting worse, and I'm afraid there is no chance of recovery. She's been asking for you. She wants to see you. Please, since the term is over shortly, hurry back. There's not much time left, and she wants to tell you something. She won't rest until she does. Don't waste time.
Madame Duchamps
Sarai's mind went into a tailspin. Ill. Her mother was dying. She was about to become parentless. No. No, it couldn't be. Her mother was the healthiest person on earth. Oh Merlin. It was true. Her mother was slipping away. Tears stung her eyes. She looked up at Madame.
"M-Madame," she managed to croak out.
"'Eet eez all right. You may leave tomorrow. You are excused from ze final exams. Nothing will 'urt your grades. Everything will turn out, mon cheri. 'Eet will be all right."
Now Sarai sat on her bed, trying her hardest not to think. Her mother had to tell her something important, something she did not want to take with her to the grave. She shook her head, not wanting to think that perhaps in a few short days, or hours, she might be burying her mother, her guardian, the one person that had been there for her in all her fifteen years.
Sarai barely slept that night. She got up at dawn and made sure everything was packed and ready to return to the countryside. She went down to breakfast and ate a minimal amount of food. Before leaving the hall, she turned and looked around. Who knows if she would ever see the place again? Who knew where she would end up?
Madame Maxime met her in the entrance hall a few minutes later, once Sarai had dragged her trunk down from her dormitory and had said hasty good byes to her friends.
"I 'ave arranged for a Portkey for you to take back to your 'ome. Come," she beckoned imperiously.
Sarai followed her out onto the grounds and past the gates that flanked the drive up to the castle. Just before she took hold of the Portkey, she took a final look around. Her home of five years. She would miss it.
With a tug around her naval, she was pulled onward, speeding through the air, until she hit the ground again. She straightened up, tugging her robes down around her and grabbing her trunk. She turned towards her home, wondering, would her mother still be there when she walked in?
Her neighbor, and the author of the letter, Madame Duchamps, met her at the door.
"My child," she sniffed. "Come, there's not much time."
She followed Madame into the cool darkness of the house. She stopped outside her mother's bedroom.
"Go on, she needs you," Madame urged quietly.
Sarai stepped in quietly, her breath catching in her throat. Her mother hardly looked the same. Her skin seemed to just hang on her bones, she had lost so much weight. She was as pale as death, and her breathing rattled with every breath.
"Mother," she whispered, kneeling at her mother's side and taking her hand before kissing it.
It was cold.
"Mother, I'm here."
Her mother's eyes fluttered opened. She managed a trembling smile. "Sarai," she barely whispered.
"Mother, I love you, I-"
"Shhhh. Don't, we don't say good bye, remember?"
Sarai nodded, her eyes welling with tears and her throat closing up.
"Sarai, I need to tell you something. I can go quietly once I get this off my chest." Every breath was costing her effort, it was one more breath she lost. It was coming, she could feel it.
"Mother, don't speak, please-"
"Sarai, when I'm gone, someone will come for you. Go with them, they will take you to your father."
Sarai froze. "My father?"
Her mother's eyes closed. "Just listen to them. You will be safe. It is not good to be alone in this world anymore."
Sarai's tears spilled over her lids. "Mother," she whispered.
"I love you Sarai."
"I love-" Sarai began, but stopped.
Her mother's rattling breaths quit. Her grip on Sarai's hand went limp.
"Mother? Mama? Mama, come back, come back, I need you!" Sarai begged, quietly sobbing. She shook her mother's hand.
Her mother was gone.
Madame Duchamps came in. "Oh dear child, I'm sorry."
Sarai managed to gasp through her tears, "Go away. Please, just leave us alone. Go, please."
Madame left quietly.
Sarai spent the rest of the day kneeling by the finest person she had ever known. Her mother, her guardian, her best friend. The only one who ever understood her. They had been so close, they were like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
And now she was alone.
Hey everyone! Hope you liked it! This if my first fic, just so you all know. And yes, it does start off slow, but it will get better. I'll keep the updates coming pretty frequently, all I ask is that you guys let me know how I'm doing! Thanks!