Ayy it's me from the present again – I know FFN doesn't do voting or comments (well, I'm still trying to figure out what exactly a review is) so ignore all mention of voting in my A/Ns – sorry! I'll get round to editing it out ASAP xx
A/N: If you find yourself enjoying the story then it would mean so much to me if you would leave a vote! A little press of a button for you = great excitement from the irrational part of myself that loves appreciation from strangers on the internet haha
But more importantly, the comments section is one of my favourite parts of the internet, so please leave one! All jokes and roasts are welcome. Plus this is a work in progress so I would love feedback! Even things like "This is getting boring", "That seems out of character", "Cringe!", "The Bloody Baron doesn't speak!", "What about Spinners End!" and "YOU CAN'T APARATE INSIDE THE HOGWARTS GROUNDS!"
Christmas Eve had finally come. Asha sat cross-legged on her bed in the deserted dorm; all of her roommates had gone home for Christmas. The clock hands seemed to be moving slower than usual as Asha tried to pass the time by shooting various hexes into the fireplace, making it smoke and spit. Finally, the clock struck midnight. Merry Christmas to me, she thought excitedly as she jumped up and cast a disillusionment charm on herself. She headed out into the common room and checked the mirror. Man, she was getting good at this charm! All that could be seen was a shimmery haze in front of the back wall where her reflection should have been.
Even though Asha was sure no staff would be patrolling the castle tonight, she still walked the corridors carefully and quietly, though this was partially due to the fact it was pitch black as she had decided not to risk using wand light. When Asha had done this a year ago, she hadn't been so careful.
She entered the library, ears pricked for any signs of movement. As she had expected, she was totally alone. She silently lit her wand and moved through the rows of books, walking all the way to the back shelves. It was so easy to get into the restricted section that Asha began to worry she had set off some kind of silent alarm set by Filtch. But when, after ten minutes of standing in the darkness, ears pricked, no one had come to detain her, Asha lit her wand again and began sifting through the shelves. All I want for Christmas is some answers, she thought to herself, hoping the generous spirits of the holiday season might hear her prayers. She knew exactly what she was looking for: a record of the Slytherin lineage; something that would help her identify Parselmouth males born in the last 70 years or so.
Asha was sure it was her father she had inherited the trait from. She only knew a limited number of things about her parents. Number one: in order for the Parselmouth gene to have been passed to her, one of her parents had to have been a witch or wizard. Number two: her mother was a Muggle. Since arriving at Hogwarts Asha had discovered that wizarding orphanages do exist, sprinkled across Europe. If her mother had been a witch she would not have abandoned her children on the doorstep of a Muggle orphanage, in the middle of a country with no wizarding community what so ever. Number three: her father raped her mother.
Back at the orphanage, Asha and Cole tended to cause trouble wherever they went. Strange things, which Asha now realised must've been accidental magic. St Andrews, being an Anglican Orphanage, was staffed by many religious matrons, none more devout than Madam Pions. She was always highly sensitive to the strange happenings that often occurred around Asha and Cole. For example, more than once, when it was the twins' turn to clean the bathrooms, the water stopped running. A visit from a local plumber revealed that all the water in the main pipes had frozen. But only in the orphanage, and in the middle of July.
One day Asha and her brother overheard a rather loud, rather one-sided conversation between Madam Pions and the orphanage headmaster...
"DO NOT MAKE EXCUSES FOR THEIR WICKED POWERS! I HAVE BEEN TELLING YOU FOR YEARS, THEY ARE THE SPAWN OF SATAN! IT IS ALL THAT ONE CAN EXPECT FROM THE PRODUCT OF RAPE!"
At the time, Asha and Cole did not know the meaning of this word, only realising years later what the hysterical matron had been implying.
She wasn't sure why she was so obsessed with finding out who her father was. He was a rapist and not someone she cared to associate her identity with. However, for some reason, it seemed important and perhaps he could lead her to her mother, of whom she knew nothing about - the orphanage had no record of her mother; Asha had broken into the office multiple times to stare at her and Cole's sparse files.
Tonight Asha was finding out that restricted section was extensive and far less ordered than the rest of the library. It took her hours to find what she was looking for. Heart swelling with anticipation, she unrolled a huge, dusty, sheepskin scroll, stamped with a wax serpent.An intricate web of wizarding families swam in the glow of her wand, and at the top centre, written in a box slightly larger than the others on the page, were the words, Salazar Slytherin.
Laying the scroll down on a desk positioned against the back wall of the library, Asha took a seat. She worked through the family tree slowly and methodically, marking the scroll with glowing gold arrows, crosses and 'P's for Parselmouth drawn with her wand. To her disappointment, it was looking like most of the last decedents of Salazar Slytherin had died over a century ago. Marvolous Flint, for example, was the last in a major line and had been born in 1792. Finally, Asha spotted a little box at the end of a branch holding the name of a man born in 1926. Tom Marvolo Riddle. She scoured the rest of the scroll and found no other Parselmouths born later than the 19th century. Did that mean she had found her father, the man responsible for her Parselmouth abilities? There was always the possibility that there were mistakes in the family tree. Perhaps entire branches were missing - secret offspring due to shameful affairs. Still, this was the closest she had been to discovering her parent's identities so she decided not to discount the legitimacy of her investigation too soon.
Just as she was double-checking the scroll in case she had missed something, a slight disturbance in the air behind her made her jump out of her skin. She spun around in her chair and inhaled sharply as she registered the tall, lean figure of ... him again?! The shock had broken her disillusionment charm and Asha felt the familiar sensation of water running across her skin as her body returned to its usual opaque self. Almost instantly, she flicked her wand, causing the markings on the scroll to vanish and pitch darkness to fall over the library. Knowing it was a lost cause, she still desperately attempted to roll up the huge scroll but a hand slammed down on her wrist and she was suddenly blinded by a bright light being pressed against her cheek. Asha could feel her heart beating hard. How long had he been standing behind her?! She tried to regain composure. Turning her head against the force of the wand digging into her cheek, she squinted into the menacing, angular face of Severus Snape. For a moment they just stared at each other, one of them trying to slow their racing heart, the other calm and cold. Finally, he spoke.
"You again, Winters," said Snape icily. "Yet again displaying the ability to perform magic far more advanced than what you should be capable of." He released her wrist from his grip and turned his wand light to the sheepskin scroll lying open on the desk. He studied it intently for what Asha felt were the longest minutes of her life. Eventually, he returned his unreadable glare to her.
"What were you doing looking at this?" he asked quietly.
Asha's mind started racing. How much had he seen? Did he know she was tracing Parselmouth? Should she lie and say she was just curious about what was in the restricted section? No, he would never believe that! Especially if he had seen her marking the scroll.
In the end, she said nothing.
"Why were you looking at this scroll?" he demanded more forcefully than before. "What could a third year student possibly want with this information?"
Still, Asha said nothing. She simply stared back into his harsh black eyes, lips pursed.
"Get up," Snape growled. Asha did as she was told. He dragged her back to the Hufflepuff common room, his grip on her upper arm unrelenting. When they were standing outside the stack of barrels that marked the common room entry, Snape spoke again in a calm but deadly whisper, all while pointing his glowing wand in her face.
"You are hereby banned from the library. You will not set foot in that room, do you hear me? And twenty points will be taken from Hufflepuff. Ten for being up past curfew and another ten for accessing the restricted section, plainly without permission. Be grateful it's not more. In the time it takes me to decide on further disciplinary measures I would highly recommend you rethink your decision to deny me an explanation for your behaviour. Items are in the restricted section for a reason, Winters."
Hesitantly, Asha backed towards the common room door, not knowing whether he was done with her. Snape gave her one final menacing look before striding off into the gloom of the corridors.
Asha was feeling a bit shaken up after being dragged through the castle by Snape. The potions professor had caught her violating school rules too many times for her liking. She slumped into an armchair in the common room and pointed her wand at the hearth causing flames to burst from the coals. Why the hell was he in the library in the early hours of Christmas morning anyway? Git. But at the end of the day, it didn't matter that much, because she had still found the information she was looking for. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Where had she heard that name before? She stared into the hypnotic flames of the fireplace for several minutes, sifting through her memories.
Crash!
Asha had just remembered something so staggering that a rush of red sparks had burst from her wand, knocking over the rack of fireplace tools. She didn't even glance at the mess she'd made. Wasn't Voldemort's real name Tom Riddle? Hadn't she heard Harry, Ron and Hermione talking about it at the end of second year? Asha could hear the thumping of her heart. It made sense. It was widely known that Voldemort made a habit of raping his victims, muggles and witches alike, before killing them. No doubt it was a display of power and savage control. He could easily have raped her mother. But no, that didn't make sense - how could her muggle mother have survived? No one survived Lord Voldemort... except for Harry Potter of course. Plus, did Voldemort even travel to New Zealand? And surely if Salazar Slytherin was part of Asha's ancestry, she would've been placed in his house. Asha was not going to so easily accept that Voldemort was the wizard from whom she inherited Parselmouth. She must have made a mistake.
She slouched back into the armchair and gazed into the fire once more. She had been sure that finding more information was going to make her feel better. It hadn't.
