The portraits on the wall screamed as ice spread rapidly across the floor. Amelia faced Dumbledore with a cold anger, ears now shaped into points and canines elongated. An illusion- the human, mortal Amelia had been an illusion. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped to the ground, the ice already retracting towards her.

Amelia was flooded with memories of a cave and a lady called Mora nursing her. She had tried to brave the dangers of the forest and had succeeded until pure white wolves had approached her. One had taken one sniff at her and slashed her with its claws. Once, twice. Seven times until Amelia had managed to rip the thing off with Fae strength. Fae- ancient, immortal, powerful. And she was one of them. She had run back to the cave, no emotion in her face whatsoever. Mora had bandaged her up quickly and told her something that Amelia thought she'd never forget. "You are a princess of ice and shadows, more powerful than Maeve herself. Do not be scared to show it."

Amelia gasped as she woke up, in St Mungo's hospital. A healer was discussing something with a man while she sat up and leaned her head against the headboard. The healer turned and gaped at her. "Amelia, is it?"

"Yes. What happened?" They looked back at the man, who Amelia now recognised as Draco.

"I won't put this lightly, but you've been asleep for six months," he said. "Amelia, I've been," Draco paused. "so damn worried. You seemed to be dead."

"Fantastic," she said sarcastically. She sat up, and clamped her hand to her forehead as every single memory returned. She was the heir of Mora, Slytherin and Death itself. She had been hunted since the moment she was born, creatures craving the taste of ice and shadow. A princess of death, that's what she was. She was the rightful queen of Doranelle. And she would fight for her title as long as she lived.

Amelia attended Hogwarts for four more years, completely ignoring the fact that her father had returned and focusing on her studies. She was top of her class, but no one else could understand the endless darkness that lurked inside her, the beast that yearned to get out. One day, she was walking to Potions, dreading it along with everyone else when thunder boomed outside. Strange, it was autumn. Such storms didn't occur in autumn. Amelia rushed outside, where figures made of shadows had formed ranks and marched towards the school. Her home. She went to meet them, but a few of the professors pushed the students including her and Draco back.

"Stay back," Dumbledore commanded. "What do you want?" he asked the creatures.

"The heir of death," one responded in an unearthly voice. Amelia flinched. "Yes, you filthy half-breed."

"Don't call her that!" Draco snapped, but she pushed him back past the professors as she stepped towards them. She smelled darkness on them, and came to a conclusion. Valg. Demons.

"Heir of Death, unless you wish the castle destroyed, come with us," the Valg told her. Amelia faced Dumbledore.

"I refuse to let innocents die because of me. Give Harry Potter this," She tossed Dumbledore a knife with a note stuck on the hilt. "And forget me. That is only for Harry Potter, you understand?"

"Amelia, you can't go," he pleaded.

"I am the Heir of Death. I can go wherever I please."

"Amelia Riddle," the Valg hissed. "Hurry."

"Alright, I'm coming!" she barked. "I will remember you. I will come back." She turned on her heel and walked towards the Valg, letting them grab her arms and transport her to another realm.