Demon Queen of Death and Magic v2.0

Chapter 1

In Surrey, England there was a house. A simple two-story dwelling amongst numerous cookie-cutter homes. It was different, however, than the other homes. It was black on the walls with a dark purple trim. The door, porch rails, window sills and shutters, and even the metal of the mailbox was the same purple. The inhabitant of the home was even more unique in comparison. She was a young girl, ten or eleven at most, with fiery red hair and haunting green eyes.
Her neighbors adored her, no matter how strange she seemed. She was a sweet girl, always willing to lend a hand. Whether it was helping old Mrs. Figg with her cats, or watching Mr. Adelarde's kids for a little bit. They loved the girl as if she were their kin. They dropped off food and toys for her, helping her with whatever she needed. There were parties for her accomplishments and gatherings for her events. The neighborhood attempted to make it to everything, but would sometimes miss some events.
In this neighborhood, on the 31st day of July, a party was ending. There were cheerful farewells and safe wishes as people headed home. It was a night of great fun, though it had ended.
The young inhabitant of Number 3 Privet Drive, the host of the party, was young Amara Hemlock Potter. The party she hosted had been for her 11th birthday.
"One year older...," she sighed, "One year since I've woken up. The walrus and horse are in jail, Marge is on my side, everything's going well."
Of course that was just tempting fate, because things went pear shaped minutes later. It started with a dark dot in the sky, that got clearer as it got closer.
"Is that an owl? Carrying a letter?", she muttered,"How peculiar."
Amara watched as the owl seemed to focus on her, keeping on a path to her even if she moved.
"Thank you dearest," she said as she took the letter," I don't known if you can understand me, or what you eat, but there is a plate of bacon on the kitchen island."

As soon as her words were finished, the bird was in her kitchen. As she opened the letter, a strange feeling went through her. A feeling of warmth, like fire dancing on her skin. Amara shook the feeling off and pulled out the letter. Her eyes gaped and her jaw dropped slightly.

"This...This has to be a joke," she muttered.

Though she was uncertain of the validity of the letter, she would still reply. She hurried inside and to her room upstairs, quickly setting herself down at her desk to write the letter.

"Dear Professor McGonagall," she began,"I am uncertain of the validity of this letter. I have never heard of this school nor am I confident in the existence of magic. I request the bluntest teacher in your employ to come to my home and inform me of this school. I also request that, if I accept a placement at your school, they aid me in gaining the supplies for term. Sincerely, Amara Hemlock Potter."

Amara felt a bit unsettled at how her notebook paper and manila envelope compared to the parchment letter she received. She prided herself at being a lady, elegant and poised. Her personality grew to resemble that of a noble in an effort to distance herself from the image of her relatives. They had been loud, crude, and just all around terrible people. She became a kind and generous noble-child who held parties at her home and was the love of the community. However, Amara also embodied the darker parts of a noble. She was manipulative, greedy, and cruel. Her kind personality was meant for those she loved and cared for, and her darker side was meant for the common folk and people who wronged her. She showed one face to the public, and another to those who knew her.

Amara hurried to hand the letter to the owl. She didn't want it to fly off on her without sending the letter. If it left, there would be no way for the school to receive her reply.

"Excuse me, dearest?" Amara cooed," Would you mind delivering this to Professor McGonagall for me, please?" She accompanied this with a pet on the head. It bobbed it's head at her in what she assumed was approval. "Oh thank you dearest!"

She stayed outside on her back deck, watching as the owl became nothing but a dot on the horizon.

"Fly safe dearest." Amara murmured as she went inside to sleep.

She was awoken the next morning by her internal alarm, 5 A.M like always. She dressed herself in a twilight-purple dress with black leggings. After her morning ritual of self-care, she was downstairs and cooking breakfast. Lots of bacon, no eggs, 2 bagels, and a chilled coffee with extra creamer. Just as she sat down for breakfast, a light series of taps rang out on her window. She saw it to be the same owl as last night and let it in, giving it some of her bacon and taking the letter.

"Dear Ms. Potter" it read," I was unaware that your relatives had not informed you of this world. Both of your parents were taught here previous to their murder at the hands of He-Who-Must-Be-Named. As a result of their murder and your survival of a spell with previously no known survivors, many here in the Wizarding World view you as the 'Girl-Who-Lived'. In regards to a Professor visiting your home to speak with you, it has been approved. Professor Snape will be at your home around noon. I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts. Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall."

"They were murdered?" Amara whispered. All her life, she had been told that her parents were drunks that nearly killed her in a car crash. She should've known that they had lied to her. She read back over the letter, the Professor's name catching her attention.

"I've heard that name before, but where? Snape, Snape, Snape...? Petunia mentioned him! I can't believe I forgot that!" Amara exclaimed. She decided, if the owl was willing, to write him a thank-you letter.

"Would you mind delivering a letter for me dearest?" Amara asked the owl. At it's nod she went to start writing.

"Professor Snape," she began," To begin with, I thank you for taking time out of your no-doubt busy schedule to speak with me on a matter my odious relatives should have already informed me of. I also offer my apologies for you having to be sent here to my home. I will be preparing potato soup for my midday meal today, you are welcome to partake in it. Gratefully, Amara Hemlock Potter."

She handed this to the owl downstairs and affectionately pet it's head. As she watched it leave, she felt as though great things were coming. She shook herself and hurriedly went to finish her breakfast.

As the hours passed, she cleaned the house and set up for a guest. At exactly noon, a knock on the door was heard. Amara set down the bowls she had just finished filling and went to answer the door. She took a small amount of time to observe him. He had shiny black hair and a large nose. The Professor's face was set in a glower, but his eyes caught her attention. There was pain there, pain and shock and confusion. She stored her observations in her mind, then went to welcome him inside.

"Please do come inside Professor." Amara beckoned.

The young woman began to lead her (hopefully) future Professor to the kitchen, where lunch was set up. She took note of his reactions to her home, filing them away for later.

Severus Snape peered at the home around him. The color scheme of the home seemed to be the colors purple, dark blue, and black. There were what seemed to be signed paintings of exemplary quality, all from the same artist. Closer inspection revealed the signature to be made of the letters AHP, with the legs of the letters ending in lightning bolts. They seemed to be the paintings of the young woman leading him through her home. They usually seemed to be magical in nature, but there were more realistic ones among them. There was one, however, that horrified him.

It was a landscape oriented painting located beside the door of the kitchen. The scene seemed to be a child's bedroom, but it was not that which caught his attention. It was the subjects of the painting. One was a child with fuzzy red hair and piercing green eyes standing in her crib, a hand raised toward the being towering above her. The being seemed to resemble a snake, with slitted red eyes and smooth pale skin. He wore a slightly regretful look on his face as he held out a wand towards the child, tip eerily glowing green. Behind the man lay a red-haired woman with her emerald eyes glazed over in death.

It was a painting of that horrid Halloween night. The Professor stopped there, staring at the painting in horrified fascination. His guard had fallen, the painting perturbing him for reasons unbeknownst to the young woman beside him. His host noticed his discomfort and hurried to explain.

"I've dreamt this scene numerous times, and yet I don't know why. Each time that I have this dream, I wake up in tears. I cry for the child who lost her parents, for the mother who was given a chance to step aside and refused, and for the man who was so sorrowful even as he apologized for the deaths of her and her parents. I cried for the man because he seemed so...torn. Like he had no choice. Some would call him a monster for his appearance and actions, but I know all too well that the worst monsters are man." She spoke these words with a haunted look in her eyes, seeming to remember things that were better left forgotten.

Severus observed her in the silence that followed. Her eyes had darkened in a mix of anguish and rage. Her hair seemed to be dimming in color, sucking in the light around her. The room seemed to grow murky and crisp, bitter and sharp.

Amara shook herself, the effects of her anger lessening as she calmed. She ran her fingers through her hair trying to settle it, adding a few calming breaths to regain her composure.

"Professor," she intoned softly as she turned to face him ,"Please follow me once more. Lunch is prepared in the kitchen, where I would wish to speak."

Amara walked forward through the door to the kitchen, head held high and no sign of the sorrow she had previously shown. The duo sat down at the table, where the Professor's face momentarily broke out into a small smile at the exquisite taste of the soup.

"You were shocked and horrified of my painting Professor, am I to assume that you know who they are?" Amara asked as she sipped her tea. She watched as Snape closed his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"The visage you painted Ms. Potter was no dream, but a memory I suspect. This memory you seem to relive in your dreams is the murder of your parents at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He is the snake-like man whom you saw above you.", the Professor uttered to her.

"But why? What reason did he have to go after my family Professor?", Amara questioned.

"Some would say that it was because they defied him at every turn. Others would claim he simply wanted them out of the way. Most believe it was due to fear. They were powerful enemies, and a rumor had been reported to him that claimed that they were to have a child. You. It was confirmed, and I assume he went after all of you to end a threat in the making as well as taking out two weakened enemies. The war was brutal, and everyone was trying to win. No one was safe from it, not even the innocent.", was the answer given to her.

"You mentioned a war, what war? Why were my parents having children in the middle of a war!? Is there no birth control in that world? What intelligent people have children while a war is going on!?" Amara queried. Were her parents idiots?

"The war had two sides, the Dark and the Light. Your parents fought for the Light, who held the opinion that anything Dark in nature was evil and had to be eliminated. That meant creature, spells, potions, and rituals that were part of our heritage as magical beings would just disappear. The Dark sought to keep that part of our heritage and for newcomers, Muggleborn and muggle-raised Halfbloods, to be taught traditions and for them to adjust to the Wizarding World and not try to change it to replicate the Muggle one.", was Snape's answer.

"Hearing this, I understand where the Dark side was coming from. If a newcomer is becoming a part of an established community, they need to learn about the community and not force it to change to fit their views. To expect an entire community to change to fit your desires is not only selfish, but incredibly arrogant as well." Amara snarled, rage simmering in her eyes.

Snape sat there with slightly widened eyes. When McGonagall had asked him to inform the Potter girl of their world, he was not expecting this. He envisioned a spoiled princess who was doted on, with messy red hair and light green eyes. What he got was an elegant and inquisitive young woman who appeared to be self-sufficient, bearing sleek crimson hair and bright killing curse hued eyes. He was expecting Dumbledore's Gryffindor Golden Girl, a child who was angry at the monster who stole her family and was determined to take up their cause. What he got was a young woman more suited to the Dark. A Slytherin Silver Serpent, understanding the man behind the monster and his cause, supporting him. He was astounded.

"Not many have that view Ms. Potter. So many simply take the war at face value." Snape spoke, voice calm and dark. His eyes were just as guarded, showing nothing.

"It might be wise, Ms. Potter," the Professor began," to not voice such opinions in front of those whom you do not trust." He was attempting to instill an amount of precaution into the young woman. Merlin knows she would need with what was about to happen.

"I take it that there are still tensions?" Amara inquired," I cannot see something like that just stopping."

"You are correct," he responded," Many of the Dark believe him to still be alive somewhere, though there is no known reason why they believe this. The possibility is still there, and so tension still remains."

"Well," she stated as she got up to clean the dishes," I do believe that I am finished with my questions Professor Snape. If I may ask, would you mind accompanying me to acquire my school supplies? I fear I'd get lost otherwise."

"Certainly Ms. Potter, I myself have business there. If you like, I can apparate us there. Though I warn you, it is quite disorienting the first time," he warned her, holding out his arm. Amara smiled softly and thanked him. She held tight to his arm, giving a firm nod to signify she was prepared. With a crack, they were gone.

Words- 2602

Time Finished and Posted- 12:36 PM Alabama Time

Thank you for reading ad have a nice day! More chapters are coming, as soon as I finish writing them.