So, this is my story. It's a HP spin-off. (well, obviously) Anyway, let me know it it sucks, doesn't suck, whatever.

She walked over a bridge, her breath coming out in short, painful gasps. Rose watched the water flowing far beneath her, splashing, rushing over the rocks far below. She looked up to the sky. The clouds above, a stormy gray, in a chaotic arrangement, only dampened her mood. The glowing street lamp illuminated the ground before her. She stopped. Tears poured form her eyes as she thought about her family's death.

She had come home from school that evening to see her mother, lying in a pool of blood. Her blood. She called out for her sister. "Mary, Mary, where are you? Dad? Dad!" She stumbled across his body, his face white, gaunt with fear. His blank eyes were staring at something over her shoulder. She turned quickly, nothing was there. In her sister's room, Mary lay on the floor, her teddy bear clutched in her arms, tears on her face. Rose stood there, numb, silent. She heard the front door open. Footsteps on the stairs, her instincts screaming for her to run! Forcing her muscles to move, Rose fled. As she left the house, insane laugher rang in her ears. "You can run, but you can't hide!"

She had to get away! Evil in that house, the house that was not her house, now a place of evil. She tripped on the curb, sprawling into the street. Her knee stung, and her face. Her shirt was ripped on her stomach and forearm. But she didn't even notice. Not even able to form a coherent thought, she ran to the river.

Standing there, leaning over the railing. Tears pouring into the river like rain, catching on her auburn hair. Harsh, cold, unforgiving. What had happened? She had calmed down a little, not much. Taking deep breaths, one step at a time, calming herself down. Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned.

Outside of the ring of light, two red eyes glowed. The figure walked slowly into the light, portraying a tall, skinny figure with skin so pale that it couldn't have seen the sun in years. He was holding a wand in his long, slender fingers. He had a maniacal smirk on his lips that didn't quite speak of madness. He stopped walking.

"Well, well, little Rose, you've run out of places to hide." He stood there, waiting for her to say something. She remained silent, staring at him with numb eyes. Looking up now, she could see for the first time a green skull with a serpent protruding out of its mouth over her neighborhood, probably over her house. "What do you have to say for yourself Rose? If not for you, your family would still be alive. Think about poor Mary, her future was so bright. And your mother, who raised you and your little sister. Your father, about to be promoted in work for his outstanding achievements. All of that wasted. For what? So you could spend the last moments of your life cowering before me?"

Still, she did not say anything. She didn't know who he was or what he was talking about, but he wish he would just kill her. She had no reason to live now. Her parents, her sister…

CRACK! The sound of displaced air startled both of them. People in billowing robes with wands appeared out of no-where. One of them grabbed Rose's arm and, with another loud crack, they were gone.

They appeared outside a dingy row of houses called Grimmauld Place. They were standing in front of the gap between 11 and 13. Her rescuer turned to Rose and handed her a slip of paper. "Memorize this." It read #12 Grimmauld Place, London. She looked up to ask him what it meant, and to her astonishment, there was a house standing in the gap between numbers 11 and 13. Her rescuer took the paper from her and burned it. Then he ushered her inside. "Molly, Molly dear," he called.

"Filth, blood-traitors! Scum of the wizarding world, how dare you befoul the house of Black…" The ratty curtains flew apart and behind the lay a portrait of an ugly old woman. Two teenagers came racing down the hall, a third one right behind them.

"Hi, Dad!" the boy with flaming hair said as he and the other boy struggled to pull the curtains shut. He was tall and gangly, is pants showing almost and inch of skin at the ankle. The other boy was shorter, and had jet-black hair.

"Hello boys. Look, is your mother here, Ron? We need to see her right away." Rose turned and saw her rescuer for the first time. He also had bright red hair, though he was starting to go bald. He looked very tired and worn, but friendly.

The girl looked at them curiously; blushing slightly after knocking over an ugly umbrella stand that looked like a hairy leg. She had wiry brown hair, and had the air of someone who knew a lot about the world. "She's in the drawing room, dealing with some more doxies. I'll go and get her if you like."

"No, no that's fine. Please, come with me, my dear," he was addressing Rose now. The three teen-agers looked at her curiously, but she was too numb to care. The man led her down a dismal hall. It looked as if someone had tried to make it more homey and cheerful, but the effect was that it looked even more dismal than ever. They went up some stairs and continued down yet another hallway. He tapped on a door, and walked in without waiting for an answer. "Molly?"

A short, plump woman, also with red hair, turned around as they entered. "Arthur, where have you… Oh my," she said, seeing Rose for the first time. As she took in her tear-stained face, her mussed up hair, and the deep scratches from where she had fallen. "Come here, dear. Let's get you fixed up."

The room she was taken to was clean, and smelled of fresh paint. It had no windows, but it did have three beds, and a cabinet, a sink, and a table. It looked as if it had been completely re-done, and looked much better then the rest of the house. Molly gently sat Rose down on a bed. Molly grabbed some things from the cabinet and rushed back to her. Rose barely noticed what she was doing.

"Here, drink this. It will make you sleep." Obediently, she drank. It tasted sweet, like honey and something else that she couldn't quite place. She lay back on the bed, and in no time, she was asleep.

Her father, Jonathon, standing in the kitchen. "Get out of my house!" He yelled in distress. The tall skinny figure with glowing red eyes faced him, laughing insanely. Jonathon's wife lay dead in the corner, blood seeping from her still-warm body. Her glassy eyes stared up at him, endless pits of death. Her beautiful hair framed her face so perfectly…

"Avada Kedavra!" The man with red eyes shouted, a fierce glint making him appear even more insane. He laughed as Jonathon fell to the floor, staring at him. He walked slowly up stairs. "Rosy, Rosy my darling, where are you? You know you cannot hide from me. Come out, I promise I wont hurt you." He went into Mary's room. She was playing with her teddy bear, looking worried. She must have heard the voices down-stairs. She looked up at him fearfully.

She was a pretty little thing, curly brown hair, and blue eyes that could melt your heart away. "Hello, little one. Where is your sister?" His voice scared her even more than his appearance. It was silky, smooth, malevolent. Evil.

"She's not here." The child's voice tremble when she spoke. "Where's daddy! I want Mommy! Daddy!" She started to wail, afraid of this man.

"Avada Kedavra!" The little child froze, her face tear-streaked. She would never laugh again at Rose's monkey face, nor cry for mommy when she had a boo-boo. Her life, short, was ended. She still clutched tightly to her teddy bear, her last friend. The figure smiled cruelly, and turned around and looked straight at Rose.

"AHHHHHH!" Rose awoke to a loud scream. It went on and on, and then, she realized she was the one screaming. The sound slowly died away.

Footsteps sounded outside, and she clutched the blankets to her in fear. Would it be the tall man with the glowing eyes? The door opened.

In came Mrs. Weasley, concern in her eyes. "My dear, what is it? Are you alright?" Rose shuddered, then nodded.

"Nothing. I'm, I'm fine. It, it was just a dream."