A/N: J.K. Rowling is the owner of the Harry Potter series.
Everyone's DOB in the Marauders Era will be set back by 4 years.
He heard it before he saw it; the familiar sound of the door to his and his Lily's home opening.
Except that it wasn't supposed to open.
He spun around, the action aided by the Quidditch reflexes of old - which didn't mean he couldn't fly a broom any less as a man than a boy, James inwardly justified against himself.
His indignant amusement over the trivial thought was cut short when red eyes bored back into him.
He stumbled in shock; the bone-white wand rising up in the air, and he shouted out a last warning for his love, his son; his family, for what lay ahead.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"
James Potter was not cut off by the swish of the wand already forming the motions. In the space of a time lesser than a heartbeat, his blazingly desperate stare caught cold, black eyes he would recognise anywhere; there was that merciless, unrelenting hate - but was there also… terror? Despite being a Slytherin, the owner of the dark pools had never once shown an ounce of fear in his entire life - it was simply part of his reputation.
Another miniscule measure of time, and the pair of eyes vanished from sight- almost immediately after he'd seen them. Had his mind been any slower, he would not have registered the scene at all.
But there was no time for him to complete the step after registering - rationalising, because then there was a flash of blinding green light, and James Potter was no more.
Asphodel stared blankly at the unmoving body of Tobias Snape.
She'd been in the shack of a house in Spinner's End ever since she'd fallen unconscious on the night the Dark Lord had entered the Potter residence, and had woken up the subsequent morning on the 1st of November in the dingy thing, the Muggle helpfully explaining to her 'I'm your new guardian, go make the br- breakfast' in a pathetically drunken slur.
Simply leaving the wretched place had not been something she hadn't considered - but no matter how despicable Tobias Snape was, he was… useful. His residence offered a higher survival chance compared to the slavemaster at the neighbouring Orphanage - Asphodel scorned the ignorance of the fools who called her the Matron.
Which meant she couldn't slip the fact that the handsome in a grandfatherly way Tobias Snape was, in reality, an abusive Muggle drunkard.
Not that they'd understand, Asphodel's lip curled - she had checked to see if there were any magicals in the immediate vicinity, the answer of which was no.
Perhaps she had been too hasty in ending Snape, as the obvious course of actions following his eradication would place her in the Orphanage. But there was little she could do about it now. More - most, importantly - she was alive. She was alive, where he wasn't. Although while she had survived this time, it didn't mean she would win next time.
For two and a half years, she had obeyed the Muggle filth, flawlessly quiet, because Tobias Snape's pretty little face, even in his old age, was accompanied by thick and veiny arms of muscle which he practised on her when she wasn't quick enough.
And now he was… deceased.
It had been unintentional.
Snape was dead, because during the final beating he had ever given her in a drunken haze, he had overstepped. His - his filthy hands, Asphodel's whole body shook in the seat she was inclined on - had wrapped around her neck.
She hadn't known what Tobias Snape would have done.
A snap, and her life, dangling in his grasp, would have slipped away from existence.
A secure hold, and she would have choked to death.
A threat, to ensure further obedience. Unlikely to have ensued. Asphodel's patience in the game was waning - she hadn't snapped, but a few more pushes and she would.
And she did.
She hadn't known what Tobias Snape would have done, and now she would never know.
And Asphodel hadn't even been thinking as adrenaline, traces of which she could still feel now, flooded her head and the next thing she knew she'd cried out Avada Kedavra, the flash of green light, the end of life, that came from the two simple words that had toppled James Potter, and subsequently Tobias Snape.
Her existence had sailed over James Potter's head when he had discussed the war with the Grim Animagus and werewolf. She knew of the Killing Curse - knew enough. It was unstoppable, bar physical blocking. It was instant.
It left no traces.
The Ministry of Magic was not an exception, even for children - especially for children, Asphodel thought in dark amusement. After all, what child could perform the Avada Kedavra with a wand, much less wandless? The Ministry didn't know when a magical performed an Unforgivable - such could only be deduced through beforehand spells and warding, or later investigations.
Except there was nothing noble about his death.
Asphodel's fingers, trembling imperceptibly, gingerly cupped the drink - tea, her mind supplied - which by now had long cooled.
She'd killed someone. She'd killed. Had it been in cold blood? What… what would her mother, the only person who had loved her, and who Asphodel had cared for… what would she think? Her mother, who had died to prevent her son's death. Her mother, whose daughter was now a killer as of… Asphodel laughed, harshly. A few hours, she'd estimate.
The figure of time gave her pause.
The Muggle police would be here soon enough. Perhaps not until the following morning, when the cliche Mailman-Discovers-Dead-Deliveree scene would play.
It was this thought that spurred her into motion, from the pathetic trembling state she had been in a few moments earlier - Asphodel felt disgusted at herself. She'd let her guard down and had wasted precious time - for what? Trembling in the chair over something she could not fix, while there had been a chance she could have been discovered.
Asphodel forced her legs to move, pushing herself up and out of the chair in front of the cold fireplace.
Asphodel had dreams. Asphodel had plans. She was Asphodel Potter, and the world would know her name one day.
They wouldn't know if she died before she could enact her world into place.
She wouldn't know if she'd died.
Forcing her way past a faint tremor, she dragged her mind back onto the matter at present.
The authorities would know she lived here. She was seen, often enough, by the neighbours on her weekly grocery runs. Snape might even have had her guardian papers.
She stiffened.
Her lips thinned. Never once, had she even considered it, in all of her skilled glory.
She was mature for her age - there had been things she'd learnt with the Potters. From James, who loathed her existence to the day he died, from her mother, whose love for her was laughable when compared to what she had for Harry, who wouldn't remember her existence.
She was confident in what she knew, and knew there were things she didn't know - the two reasons combined had been why she had stayed with Snape, after all; the Hogwarts letter would come when she was eleven, because she had performed accidental magic ever since the day the Dark Lord had come.
She was Asphodel Potter, and the world would know her name one day.
And she had not even considered all the possibilities for how she had ended up with the Muggle.
Asphodel abruptly twisted her gaunt body around, striding into the room she had never before entered - for her own safety. She was above walking into a lion's den.
She was below walking into a dead lion's den.
The room was undignified in its squashed proportions, like the rest of the house - although a great deal larger than the washing room. Asphodel sneered.
A lanky bed took up the majority of the space, empty bottles scattered on the pillow, blankets, the floor and the table in the corner. Under the table was a drawer.
It had to be it, if the guardian papers even existed - there was simply no other place that wasn't in plain sight where Asphodel could have seen - unless if it was in the Muggle's closet of all places.
Asphodel harshly yanked the drawers. The first held a few scattered useless pieces of paper. The second had a wallet. Asphodel hesitated in the space of less than a second before plucking the few notes from it to shove into her pockets, forcing her clenched jaw to relax. She could keep herself alive.
She would keep herself alive.
A single piece of paper sat in the final drawer.
You are to take Asphodel Potter under your guardianship until otherwise notified. You are not to let Asphodel Potter leave your guardianship in any way, nor see this paper.
How suspicious.
She flipped the paper over.
Nothing.
Incredulous shock filled her.
Asphodel couldn't believe it.
This - this wretched, low-down piece of paper, was the reason she was placed with Snape?
Unless…
Her eyes widened.
A man like Tobias Snape was not the kind to take instructions short of being landed in Muggle jails. A man like Tobias Snape was not someone who was interested in raising a child.
A man like Tobias Snape would not raise a child because of a few instructions written on a piece of paper.
But he could be - persuaded to, had the paper been… enchanted.
Eyes narrowed, Asphodel carefully reached out to her magic to the paper. She had never done this before - while she had connected with her core in the instances she used wandless - not accidental, which was performed with intent, but not deliberation - she hadn't reached out her magic like this.
And then, suddenly, a foreign - existence - entered her senses.
It wasn't like anything she had ever experienced, much less described. She could only say it was - it reminded her, faintly, of rain, of an ancient - age, and a lemon candy.
And it carried a faint sense of compulsion.
Well.
Asphodel imprinted this into her mind, and very carefully folded the paper with the intrusive sense into her pocket as well.
She then exited the shack, inwardly sneering. It was certainly going to take an unfortunately disgraceful effort to play the Child-Who's-Loving-Guardian-Has-Just-Passed card.
But she could do it.
She was Asphodel Potter, and the world would know her name one day.
She is Asphodel Potter, eight years old, and she has committed her first murder.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this. Suggestions are welcomed, although I would appreciate your understanding if I do not take up on it. tys ✌