A/N: First of all, thank you all for commenting, following and favouriting this story. To those of you who're new, welcome! I hope you'll enjoy the first instalment of 'The Worst Witch' and of course, feel free to leave your thoughts in the form of a comment. I do love to read them!

Second, I feel it important to tell you that Jeremy's and Anna's relationship was, although short, probably one of my most favourite relationships during the whole show. Forgive me, for not having the heart to kill Anna off (she probably was my favourite character since the second she bumped into Jeremy in the library in season 1 and still holds that spot even after the writers wrote her off). I do have a plan for her, if only in the background. In the beginning, Samantha is not going to be a fan of vampires. I think that's the more logical approach, however, as much as she may feel she should shake her brother and wallop her sister for it, she keeps these opinions mostly to herself.
She'll take some time to warm up (if she'll ever) warm up to them, and if/when she does, it won't be to Stefan and Damon. I will not let her have any sort of romance with any of them. It has been done and I am still not sure what I want for her in later seasons. The first 'book' will cover season 2 and 3 of vampire diaries. Herein, Samantha will get to practice her magic and grow closer to the darker arts, but it will be subtle. I'm not planning to create a super-witch in the span of the snap of someone's fingers (if I ever plan for such to occur) and as I've mentioned before she will be a bad witch; in more ways than one. She won't have a great start at it and dark magic will come easier to her than light.

I feel I've blabbed far too much to all of you already and I'm sorry! If you see a mistake in grammar or spelling, please let me know. My mistakes have more to do with me being a horrible dyslectic than English not being my first language. Anyway, Enjoy!


o.O.o


Chapter Three, John Gilbert

Pushing my hair up in a large messy bun, easing the irritating heat away from the back of my neck, I sighed and leant against the bark of a tree. For a moment I wondered why exactly I had wanted to come here so badly. The music was much too loud, the bass beating in time with my heart and over the roar of music, the air was alive with chatter. There were far too many people packed together, never moving far away from the campfire they made in the little clearing Tyler and what's-his-face had found. I grimaced, swirling my red cup of lukewarm beer in my hand and watched Caroline Forbes getting dragged by, by her boyfriend, looking unamused. Perhaps she looked as I felt and I grimaced again. I couldn't believe this is what I had bribed mum and dad for. Some get together with horrible beer was not my idea of fun. Especially not, if Tyler had not even done everyone the good grace of wrecking his father's strong liquid cabinet.

I supposed it might be odd that a rambunctious person like me didn't like rambunctious environments like a party, but as I watched people getting stupid drunk and pills being shared like a box of tic-tac's, I couldn't find it in me to enjoy it. Perhaps Tyler had spoiled me too much, locking ourselves up in his father's office when I'd turned sixteen last April and shared a bottle of the finest bourbon. Speaking of Tyler, he must have shaken his stupid friend, because he was moving my way and I gave him my best 'I'm-not-amused-face'. He settled next to me offering me a box of cigarettes and I eyed him with a frown.

"Really? First, you socially blackmail me to come here and now you try to get me to give one of your cancer sticks a try? I don't think so."

"Oh, in a bad mood much?" He asked and pushed his cigarettes away. He'd turned seventeen tonight and instead of doing something fun he'd sneaked away from the boring party his parents had arranged, and— now they were here.

"No," I settled on, "but I'm bored. Where's the fun? If I'd known this was what I would be doing instead of family night, I would have stayed home!"

"You are only entertained when something is broken or the police is after us, aren't you?" He asked amused and stared around for a moment, before producing a silvery flask.

I smiled genuinely at that: "Bourbon?"

He smiled like a shark: "Dad will be upset when he finds half of his priceless liquid missing."

"You shouldn't aggravate him like that," I retorted half-heartedly and accepted the flask and pressed the cup of beer in his hands. It burned just as nicely as I remembered and I sighed contently.

"Your sister is coming this way," Tyler whispered slowly and I chocked on my drink before following his line of sight.

Elena Gilbert was confidently weaving through the dancing students, moving towards my secluded spot under the trees. She almost managed to smile at me too, dressed in tight-fitting denim pants and a pink shirt, her waist-length brown hair ruffling in the slight wind. She was holding her phone in such a white-knuckled grip, I felt almost immediately suspicious.

"Hi," she greeted awkwardly and I pushed the flask back in Tyler's hand as subtly as I could, facing my older sister with a tight smile.

"Hello,"

"I—uh, I called mum and dad. They'll come and get us."

"Wait, what?" I stumbled, my eyes widening. "Why? It's only eleven o'clock, we were allowed to stay till midnight! Besides, Matt was going to drive us back!"

"Yes," she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest in her we're-going-to-do-as-I-say stance and I ground my teeth together, trying to keep my temper under control. "But I want to go. Now!"

"And what about what I want?" I asked slowly, punctuating every word irritably. "Did you consider that?"

"Well," Elena shrugged and rubbed her fingers over her upper arms, "it doesn't matter, does it, you're not allowed to stay here without me. And besides, it's not like you were enjoying yourself anyway."

"No, but when do I get the chance to do anything anymore?"

"You were grounded for a reason." Elena bit out and I felt my face flush with anger.

"And you are an uptight little—"

Elena sneered at me and stalked away. "Just make sure you come to the meeting spot." And with that, she was gone. I seethed while Tyler patted my shoulder awkwardly and for good measure, I turned my glare on him too. He, however, was too used to my antics and just shrugged: "You were not enjoying yourself."

"I'm just— I don't know." I agreed finally and stretched my arms in front of me, enjoying the way it made my fingers tingle. "Mom and dad gave me crap about— well, practically everything."

"We did practically blow up the science classroom."

I grinned at that: "You have to admit, that was one of our better pranks. I loved the goat touch."

He barked out a laugh: "They're still looking for goat number three."

"Indeed they are," I agreed. They'd loosened a silly, simple, but quite effective, home-made stink bomb in the chemistry classroom; sending almost every student running out into the corridors. Tyler had followed with setting free three goats, numbered one, two and four. The students had been howling in surprise and the teachers had been chasing the animals and Tyler— Tyler had to repeat a grade but refused to stay clear of Senior prank night. I had just come along the ride. Besides, the goat-part was awesome. "I wonder if they figured it out in the end."

Tyler's grinning face started to fade.

I felt the beginnings of panic—

And suddenly—

I woke up with a start, my heart beating fast and my head pounded awfully. I groaned, sitting up slowly and pushed off my comforter with a gruff huff. I hadn't dreamt about the day my parents had died in a long time and I rubbed my fingers in slow circles over my temples. At least, I hadn't dreamt about Tyler's party. If I dreamt about that day, I dreamt about my mum screaming, my dad horrified face when he lost control over the car and Elena's knee colliding painfully with mine when she went to grab for my hand. I'd dream about the way my stomach dropped when the car went sailing through the air and crashed through the safety barrier. I'd remember my scream riveting through the car before the cold water developed me and the pain lancing across my ribs and settled into my lungs as air escaped my mouth in air bubbles, rising into the dark recesses of the lake.

I groaned…

My room was dark and tiredly I tried to smooth down my hair, which flew in all directions. I'd been in the middle of untying several tangles with my fingers when I realised I couldn't remember how I came to be home. My heart wrenched painfully when I understood I wasn't home at all and with quickening breath, I felt around until my fingers slid past a light switch. There was a low ceiling above me and I threw my legs over the edge of the bed. I was still fully dressed ('Thank God'), although my jacket was gone and I stumbled to my feet.

The room was simple with light curtains and a beige-gold accent could be found on the walls. The room was small with one bed and a door leading to what I assumed was a separate bathroom and another out of the bedroom and into the rest of what I considered was a hotel room (obviously). I'd also remembered Uncle John and my fingers splayed out over the side of my neck, finding it slightly irritated but otherwise fine.

"I'm going to strangle that idiot," I mumbled angrily and stomped out of the room and froze in the living area. Uncle John was seated on the beige couch, situated against the wall, inset with large windows. He had one foot propped up on the coffee table, filled with papers and books and somehow I was momentarily distracted. Outside it was still dark and so now and then the moon would briefly peek out behind the clouds, illuminating the windowsill. He was on the phone and from what he was saying, I concluded he was handling the still ongoing fiasco that was the fire at Grayson Gilbert's former office and my face flushed in anger. With a huff, I stomped over to him.

"How could you do that?" I demanded and he looked up with tired eyes ending the call abruptly. "What were you hoping to achieve— What if your stupid concoction killed me?"

"I had to be sure," he whispered, brushing a hand over through his short hair, standing it up on end. "You managed to get there with Jeremy in tow— I had to be sure."

I deflated a little at that. His face and voice were devoid of the anger I had come to expect and my arms fell uselessly at my sides. "What do you mean?"

"Jeremy and his girlfriend." He whispered with distaste and I exhaled loudly.

"What do you mean?" I asked again, cocking my head to the side. "Why do you insist on speaking in riddles?"

He looked up at me again and got slowly to his feet, moving as if he was afraid he would scare me away like I was some kind of skittish animal. His hands came up to my shoulders and I couldn't help but freeze. Either he didn't notice or else he didn't let on he noticed and checked my face, my head and then the scratches I hadn't noticed on my arms. "Still fine."

I sighed: "Is this about the supernatural thing? The vampires? I can't believe you of all people—"

"It's real." He stated and dropped his hands away from me. It was odd, normally he would have been lecturing me from the minute I stepped inside the living area. Clouds shifted in the sky and the light of the moon filtered in through the windows again. One was standing the tiniest bit ajar and I seemed to smell the charged, bitter aroma of lightning-to-come. Uncle John was pushing me to the table and I settled tiredly into one of the chairs, worrying my lower lip with my blunt front teeth. "There are vampires in this town. Newcomers that feed on the innocents."

"I—" my voice came out small. If I could influence things around me, make things move, hear voices— let things explode or even extinguish, how difficult would the existence of the supernatural be? Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood a curled my legs up on the chair until I sat cross-legged on the wooden seat. "Why would you tell me now anyway?"

"Because I want you to stay out of this." He remarked slowly, settling on the edge of the table. "Because your sister and brother are already in too deep—"

I frowned before my lips parted in understanding: "The Salvatore boy?" He nodded and started a tale I found hard to believe. Told me about how the journals my grandfather's father had kept were not ill-advised ghost stories, and how vampires had infiltrated their town before. How many innocents had been killed and how it had all started again last September. I felt rather sick and as he started to explain about the counterattack during Founders Day, I peered at the coffee table, concentrating on the familiar brown leather covered book until it came soaring to me. His eyes widened and I almost managed to smile at his reaction. Almost. "Your syringe doesn't work on me remember?"

"I'd always known you could do things. I just didn't know you could control it." He whispered and I felt my eyebrows furrow together.

"You knew?"

"Yes," he agreed before slumping down on the wooden chair opposite of me. "You blew things up from the moment you started to walk. It was hard to miss."

I frowned: "But— how am I still alive if you're a lot all are after—"

"I hoped we would never be having this conversation. Have you read those journals?"

I averted my eyes from his and stared at one of my Great-grandfather's journals. I wasn't sure which one it was but I did read many of them. "I guess."

"Johnathan Gilbert was seeing a witch."

"So being a witch is okay, but being a vampire is a crime?" I summarised.

"Do you know how many they've killed. Those Salvatore boys? I've known you since you were born. You were not exactly harmless but you are not a monster either." He tried explaining and dropped his head into his hands before sighing and I pulled both of my legs up the chair.

"If you all knew what I was, regardless of not thinking I'm a monster, why would my parents adopt me?"

"What?"

"Please, that is not a secret well kept. I've known for— years."

He intertwined his fingers on his lap, his back stiff, before finally sighing: "How did you find out?"

"Chemistry, I was thirteen." I retorted and traced my finger pads over the rough leather. He was still looking up at my face with curiosity. "We determined our blood-groups in third grade. I knew my parents' blood-groups. I'd seen their donor codicil before, A and O and well, mine simply didn't add up. A and O can't suddenly go and make a child with blood group B."

He gave out a dry, humourless laugh at that: "Of course, you'd figure it out after something as stupid like that."

"It's not stupid."

"I don't know much about witches. Just that they're there." Uncle John stated, a half-smile curving his lips. "And that your great-grandfather was in love with one. When trained, witches are supposed to be able to do wonderful things."

"I'm not— well, I can do things, but more often it takes me by surprise," I answered finally, unsure why I felt so confident to talk with uncle John, out of all people. "I don't know many people, if any really, who know how to control what I can do."

"And I'd recommend staying away from it as much as you could." Uncle John whispered, I glared at him for that comment and he pressed his steepled fingers to his lips. "Not from magic itself, just, the people here who can teach you— I'm not doing a great job at getting you to stay away from it, am I?"

I sniggered: "When did you ever stop me from doing what I wanted?"

"Samantha, this is not the same. This is not stealing a cop car or nicking the school banner and hanging it in the bleachers with feathers and coloured-slivers."

"Hey, if there is a way to learn!" I stated, wrapping my arms around my knees. He gave me a look before he brought his hand over his eyes and sighed loudly.

"You'd need a grimoire." He finally decided on.

"A Grimoire? Seriously?"

"Yes," he agreed. "We have one."

"You do?" I asked softly and he dropped his hands. With lips pressed tightly together, I searched his eyes for deceit. I didn't find any. "Why, are there more—"

"No, Emily Bennet left it with us." He explained and I had the feeling she hadn't so much as left it but rather died while Johnathan Gilbert held on to it. "I could give it to you—"

He was interrupted by a sharp knock and he slowly heaved himself to his feet. I watched him go, disappearing through the hallway and mulled over his words. I'd heard about the deaths, the disappearances and mutilations. Was Uncle John truly so wrong for wanting the animals that did such things out of the town? Even if I did not agree with his methods and—

Uncle John yelled and I jumped up dropping the book to the floor and scurried over to the front door. Uncle John was laying on the linoleum floor, bleeding and Elena, my sister, her hair curly and eyes vengeful, was standing over him. I think I might have shrieked. My voice might have gone high enough to shatter glass and Elena looked up in surprise.

"What? Elena!? What did you— Oh my God!"

I'm not sure what she expected but I seemed to be the last thing on earth she could have bumped into and her eyes went wide. She looked so horrified, so absolutely freaked out and then she was gone. The door slammed harshly closed and I stared at it through tear-filled eyes. My insides did a flip before I dropped to my knees and scrambled to John's trembling body. Blood, he was bleeding all over my clothes and over the floor and, in a fit of genius I yanked my shirt over my head, leaving me in my tank top before I pressed it as tightly as I could against the wound on his abdomen.

"Oh God," I whispered because his blood was quickly soaking my shirt and I used my left hand to wipe the blood away, even as tears had started to shimmer in my eyes, and felt around for a phone. I blinked the tears back fiercely and chocked on a sob when my fingers curled around a mobile phone. "U-uncle John, you have to stay awake. W-what's your password?"

My fingers slipped on the phone and I dropped it next to his head. He was gasping like a fish out of the water and I slapped him. "What's your password. For your phone!"

"One— one, nine, seven and zero." He finally gasped out and I followed his instructions. It took me only one attempt to make the emergency call and keeping the phone on speaker, I pressed both hands to the wound.

"I— I need an ambulance!" I whimpered and Uncle John grounded out where they were.

At least he was still awake, if barely and I kept whispering to him even though l was reeling. My sister had tried to kill my uncle. I'd never been close to my sister. I'd always gotten on better with Jeremy who was a wild child just like I was. Even in my memories when I was a child, Elena and I did not get on, but I didn't think I could ever hurt her. Nor could I understand why Uncle John would not want anyone to know that she was the one to stab him. Or at least I didn't until he managed to splutter about Doppelgängers.

"I—It wasn't Elena," he whispered, "K—Katherine, it was Katherine."

"Katherine?" I mumbled and he nodded before finally fainting, his eyelids fluttering closed. "Who the hell is Katherine?"

Of course, he didn't answer. I breathed out a sigh in relief when the ambulance arrived. Uncle John was levelled up on a stretcher, taken away out of the hotel and I followed rubbing my hands together. The police were quick to intercept me, Liz Forbes taking me apart and pushed me into the back of her car. I'd decided to play dumb hoping John Gilbert could make up something himself because I— I was at a loss!

It was late in the morning when one of the deputies dropped me off in front of the house at 2104 Maple Street. I was still reeling and made a beeline inside. My bedroom was on the second floor of the house with its small bathroom. I'd gotten it because Elena wanted the bedroom closest to our parents and although Jeremy wanted it, I'd called on my veto right as second-oldest and got it mostly to humour me. I was glad I had it now as I stumbled blindly past the silvery bird wallpaper and into the bathroom. My hands were red with Uncle John's blood and my face was flushed with horror. It took me several tries before I managed to open the tap and the water immediately turned the sink a pinkish hue as I scrubbed the blood off my hands. The water was still running long after my hands were clean of blood but red from the scrubbing and I tried to keep my breathing even.

I sat on the edge of my bed the rest of the morning until finally my mobile phone rang and the hospital staff members promised me that my Uncle would be fine.

Elena came to see (interrogate, really) me at lunchtime. I was quite proud of myself for not running once I saw her and even managed to play dumb through all of it. She wanted to know what I was doing in dad's burning practice (I returned that one with a 'what were you doing there') before answering truthfully that Jeremy asked my help. She fished a little bit when she wanted to know what I knew of vampires, and I laughed at her stupid attempt. It was a good thing Elena took that as proof I knew of nothing and I managed to walk her to the front door before she went to the Hospital to visit Caroline. The blonde girl who'd used to tease me for my boyish ways and who'd been Elena's best friend since— well, forever really. She'd had never been my favourite person in the world. She'd always been Elena's friend and I tolerated her solely for that reason. I can't say I hated her, I didn't, and besides our dislike of each other was mutual. I was pretty sure she couldn't stand my old-fashioned skirts (when my mum managed to get me into one) or the messy buns I'd preferred during all of my childhood.

I waited until I heard the door of her car slam closed. Until I was sure my sister was gone (my sister who knew about the supernatural drama that was Mystic Falls) and stalked into her bedroom.

Tucking my hair behind my ears, almost shoulder length, but not quite, and curling messily around my cheeks, I breathed out loudly. Elena kept a diary. Had done so since she was ten-years-old and had always been quite thorough. I would only have to find it.

I truly hoped she was just as sloppy with her hiding places as she'd been before—

To be continued...


A/N: and what can I say moody sixteen-year-olds thinking the world is slightly unfair, seems pretty accurate to me. As for the display of magic. Sam has some control, although the knowledge of what it exactly was, she could do helped her telekinesis along a good way. As for the accident that killed Mrs and Mr Gilbert, yes, Samantha was in the car, no Stefan was not the one to get her out (although this part is not important for the plot of the story).

Also, for a much later part of the story, I needed Samantha to be adopted as well. It will be explained later on. Muchhh lattteeerrr…

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the newest chapter. Have a good night and I hope to metaphorically see you all upcoming Thursday when I'll post the next chapter.