A Life Unknown

[UPDATE:] I really didn't like this first chapter, so I decided to keep editing it because it sounded terrible. So, here is the first chapter! And, it still sucks though. T.T Well, at least I tried, I'm sorry for the HUGE delay! My computer died, literally, and so it was a few months before I got personal access to the internet. I'm also having enormous writer's block, which I don't even understand at this point in the story. So, I hope you enjoy my attempt. PLEASE REVIEW, IT'LL MAKE ME WRITE FASTER! X3

Summary: 13 year-old Amelia Struegel had always known she was adopted, but no one knew who her parents were. And, ever since she could remember, she thought there was something else out there, a different world. Heck! Even a different dimension, but she was never prepared for this. On her birthday, July 31st, she finds out her real heritage, and meets her brother, Harry Potter. And in the future, she encounters horrible creatures, romance, struggles, and a traitor.

Rated: PG13 or T

A/N: Hi, this is my first fanfiction, but don't let that make you go, so please be nice. But, I accept criticism, it helps a lot, but everyone I know is too nice to give me any. L

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. (I wish I did, though) The only thing I own is Amelia, and a few other OC's.

Amelia's POV:

I woke in a cold sweat, reluctant to see the sun streaming through the window in my bedroom. I groaned, and lifted my hand to block my eyes from the bright light.

Then, the sound of a digital alarm clock invaded my ears. I slowly turned onto my other side, and peeked through the covers to see the red letters flash a 7:30 in my face.

I quickly shot up out of my bed, almost like a rush of energy flowed through me. At a glance from the calendar, my fears were blown away. And instead, a smile crept its way onto my face, wondering how this day would play its way out.

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Amelia Struegel, and today is when I turn 13. I am trying to hold my excitement in. But I am just a bit confused, like I am waiting for something to happen, a true life changing thing, you know?

Nah, it's probably just my nerves. Last night I had the strangest dream ever, but familiar, almost like the kind of memories that played out in your head when you're looking for something. But it was impossible, unless-

"Mels! Breakfast is ready!" my mother said, pulling me back to reality. I turned on my heel, facing the door, and replied, "I'll be down in 15 minutes!"

She wasn't really my mother, I was adopted. I figured that out a long time ago, when I had asked them on my fifth birthday. All of the other children in kindergarten looked so much like their moms and dads, but what about me?

It was a bit hard to comprehend the astounding information at first, but soon it had become second nature response to the friends I'd gained over the years. They were all gone now, but that's a story for another day.

Anyways, it's just too much of a hassle to not call them mom and dad, so I guess I gave in.

Jennifer Struguel (known as mom to me) was a sweet woman with short, almost pixie-like, golden blonde hair that went down only to her shoulders. She always said kind words, and it was not often that you could see her with any anger on her features. If you went down to the Master bedroom in the house, and look in her closet, you would find that most of it is made of dresses and fancy attire. She will never back down from a challenge though, and everything she does can be defined as "dramatic."

Dad, on the other hand, can be a reserved man, and rarely shares his feelings with anyone. Well, I had suspected in the past that in the dead of night, when all the lights are off, and bedtime had long gone past, mom and dad shared their thoughts. But, I had yet caught them, and if this was ever true once, these times were still in the past, and not coming back.

He also had blonde hair, but it was more natural the way it fell, almost in a shaggy-like manner. Mom always was urging him to get a cut, but of course, he never did. Only if it was seriously getting on her nerves, or annoying her, then she would take the scissors, and just snip it off during breakfast, or when he was sleeping. The only times he wouldn't notice.

Still, the way they loved each other in some ways just amazed me. Like the way they could guess wait the other was going to say before the other said it. They were a pair, and like a pair, if one was gone, it was almost like the other was gone too.

Every year, on my birthday, I had asked them who my real parents were, but they just said they never knew. I knew it was stupid to keep asking, but they always got a distant look in their eye, as if remembering something important.

"Amelia Lily Struegel! It may be your birthday, but if you're not down here right now-,"

"I'll be down in five minutes!" I lamely replied half laughing because I knew the threat was empty.

I nearly knocked over my lamp as I ran over to the book case stuffed with more books than it should be able to hold, and shoved it to the side an inch or two. I quickly grasped the small, leather bound journal, turned to a blank page, and wrote as quickly as I could for it to still be legible:

July 31st, 2011

There was a beautiful lady with red hair, and stunning green eyes and, a man with raven black hair, and hazel eyes in a room which looked like a living room. The lady was holding a little baby boy, which took on his father's features, but had his mother's eyes. They were laughing and seemed to have not a care in the world.

Then, there was the sound of a rusty gate opening from outside. The man cautiously looked through the window and his eyes widened with fear. "Lily, he's here." He quietly whispered, as if the person outside could hear him, which he probably could. He told her to go, and he would hold him off. She reluctantly left him to fight, taking a little boy with her.

She ran into a room where another small child was sleeping, her dark hair in a mess around her. Glancing at the closet, Lily carefully picked up the small, female child and set her down in the closet gently, and tucked a small locket inside her blanket, and said, "I will always be with you, daughter." When she was about to hide the second child, the man they were probably hiding from burst into the room. He threatened, "Give me the boy, or you will die." She cried out, "NEVER!", but he told her that her husband, James, was dead. At this point, Lily was on the ground, begging for mercy. When he refused, she shouted, "I will never give Harry to you!"

I concluded that Harry was the other child, and Lily was the mother, but James…was dead. The man offered one last time to give her the boy, but she didn't trust him. She fell to the ground without any struggle, at one flash of green light, and the words, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The evil man now focused on Harry, who had started crying, probably because he had just seen his mother being murdered. He laughed, a sound that was probably never heard in a thousand years, and said, "Good bye, Potter. AVADA KEDAVRA!" But then something amazing happened; instead of killing the innocent child, there was a huge, bright light, and then the evil man fell to the ground.

Then, there was a crash, and the room was destroyed. Even in the rubble that used to be a house, it was clear that the two children were still alive. Only then, did I notice the small child in the closet had eyes that were so familiar, she knew she saw them many times before.

In the distance, a figure appeared out of thin air. He walked closer, and closer, until I saw an old, long-bearded man walk over to the used-to-be closet, and pick up the female child. He turned the boy in the crib and said "I am sorry I had to do this, you will see each other in the future." Then, he disappeared with her in his arms.

Once I felt like I had jotted down every important detail I could possibly remember of my dream, I quickly re-placed the journal, and shoved the bookshelf back into place. A small tear had managed its way to my eye. I quickly swiped it away; not knowing where it had came from.

But something was bugging me, tugging at my brain. I could feel a connection to the small female child in the dream. It was almost as if she was calling to me. I wanted to speak to her, and that's what scared me. There was only one important question left: who was she?

I decided that thinking about it more would get me even more wrapped up in the situation, so I walked down to the bathroom connected to freshen up. Stepping in front of the mirror, I slowly peeked through my right eye, bracing myself for the worst.

Looking back at me in the glass was a girl around 5'2, with wavy, jet black hair. On the other hand, she had paper white skin, and high cheek bones. And most of all, her eyes were an alluring shade of green. But under them, there were bags that were caused from waking up from terrible dreams that she could remember almost too vividly. Her waist was small, petite, and she had a look of relief across her face.

That girl in the mirror, well, that girl was me.

I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding, and leaned my head on the cool counter. It relieved the flushed skin on my face; lulling me into a calmed state. So, I thought, at least this dream hadn't left any scars behind. My paranoia was caused by a chilling event from my past I didn't want to revisit, but I let myself by pulled into the memory.

One night, after having one of those spine-tingling nightmares, I was trying to remember the events that had put my nerves on edge so secretly. Then, I felt sticky, wet, and had a stabbing pain coming from both of my arms and legs. I'd woken up with long, deep cuts across my arms and legs. I had to be rushed into the emergency room in the early morning so they could stop the bleeding. People at school had asked where it had come from, and I made up this elaborate story including a hobo, a cat, and a tin can. But in all reality, I had no idea where it had come from.

The doctors had estimated that they would disappear in a few months, but 2 years past and they had only faded to some extremely noticeable scars. Ever since that incident, I had become worried that it would happen again, and, maybe even worse.

Shaken from the memory, I frantically brushed my teeth, unsuccessfully tried to pull my hair into a casual pony tail, and changed into a pair of dark skinny jeans, red converse, and plain white V-neck.

When I had reached the bottom of the mahogany staircase, and caught myself from falling and, I found myself in the walking into the dining room when I heard Mom and Dad yell, "Happy Birthday!"

In the center of the table I found bacon, eggs, and orange juice, ready to be devoured. It was my favorite breakfast, but something seemed out of place. Everything in the room appeared where it was supposed to be, there wasn't a single spot of dirt on the floor, (Mom's habit of keeping the house "clean as a whistle") and nothing was lying around. (Another thing she didn't tolerate)

The two had noticed me pause, and dad questioned with serious worry, "Honey, what's wrong?" "Something seems wrong…" I thoughtfully said. I noticed a flicker of something in the corner of my eye, and turned around instantly. "What are you doing?" mother said, with a notice of edginess in her voice.

"Nothing," I softly breathed, ignoring whatever had been there.

And at that, the door bell sounded from the front room. Mother quickly excused herself from the room, and went to the front room to answer the door. After the sound of the door opening, I heard my mother screech in full-blown shock.

"What are you doing here?" she said, still in a state of shock.

Now questioning her sanity, I decided to go and see what had her so amazed.

When I reached the front room, I hid behind a conveniently-placed pillar, just in case they weren't supposed to see me.

The person at the door turned out to be a man, if you could even call him that. I noticed he was quite young, around the age of seventeen, four years older than me, and his black hair was very unruly, going in different directions. And his eyes…I remembered up in the bathroom just a few moments earlier and remembered that same shade.

A deep green, almost as if a green I half-remember in dwindling dreams that spiral out of my control, and at the whim of my unconscious mind. They looked almost exactly like mine, but they held stories that I knew most sane people wouldn't even be able to imagine. They almost scared me in a sense, but captivated be still.

"… And she doesn't even know what she is, or who for that matter-" the man at the door stopped short, noticing the movement behind my pillar, apparently entering unannounced. Those eyes halted when they found me leaning ever so slightly behind the pillar to catch the words that had tumbled out of his mouth.

"Um, hello," I said, my tone asking, to the man (or boy) who seemed even more familiar, the more I stared at him.

"Oh, uh…hello Amelia," he said in a voice that sounded like he had no idea what to say at all, "My name is Harry."

I caught his slip up immediately, "How do you know my name?"

For a few seconds he was dumbstruck, and realizing his mistake, he stammered, "I-I was a friend of your parents."

"Really," I said, my curiosity suddenly sparked, "Who were they?" The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, I couldn't help myself.

"They never told you?" Harry said in a slow voice, like he was preventing from steam come out of his ears. The anger was very evident in his voice; maybe my adoptive parents had been hiding something after all.

"You mean Jennifer and Louis? They never knew…" but something occurred to me that wouldn't let me finish.

"Your name is Harry, yes?" I slowly said; you could practically see the gears turning in my mind.

"C-correct," he relied hesitantly, as if he knew what was going on in my mind.

"Is it possible your name could be Harry Potter?" if I had any sense, I would never have asked that, but I couldn't help it.

"Yes, I am Harry Potter," he said, trying to hide something I couldn't see. But I could see righting through the mask he was putting on, his eyes gave away the secret.

I stared at him in disbelief. He was the younger boy in my dream. He was the boy who was going to be murdered by Voldemort. If he was real then the little girl might be too…

Without thinking, I said, "You're the boy in my dreams, the one who survived…" This was true; he'd shown up on most of my dreams. The ages usually varied, but this was the oldest I'd ever seen him.

Jennifer finally spoke up, "What dreams honey?" Her voice sounded more worried, not like the baby voice she often used to give to me to figure out something.

"I will be down in just a minute," and then I dashed upstairs. I ignored Louis' calls from the living room telling me to slow down; all that was on my mind was my journal. The air wasn't staying in my lungs long enough, so I had to breathe harder to get more air in my lungs.

Once I gotten to room, I ran through there like a tornado, and carefully pushed the bookcase out of the way.

I snatched the journal from its hiding place, and hurriedly pushed the piece of furniture back. Unfortunately, that caused a few books to fall out, landing on my head. As I was rubbing the place that was throbbing, I half-jogged down the stairs (narrowly tripping numerous times on the way) and found that my mother and father were sitting on the couch opposite to the one Harry sat on. He looked quite uncomfortable sitting there with them sending him dirty looks.

My mother sent me a questioning look that said, 'Why are you rubbing your head?' I just mumbled, "Doesn't matter," and kept holding on to the journal with a death grip.

I reluctantly let my hand fall away from my head, deciding to deal with the burning sensation, and looked down at the leather-bound journal in my hands. This thing held all of my secrets, and the dreams that I managed to remember. I sometimes tried to read it, but sometimes it was too much. Many of them looked as if they were written about the future, but I had no idea if it was fiction or not. I finally removed my eyes away from the book and calmly spoke.

"Can speak with Harry about something, you both wouldn't understand," I felt bad for rejecting them so upfront, but they needed to know straight-forward that I really did not want them there at the time.

Their faces showed emotions of hurt, sadness, anger, and soon acceptance. I calmed down a small fraction after that. If they didn't accept this one request, how can I trust them to accept anything else I could tell them in the future?

They left the room quickly and quietly.

I walked over to sit on the sofa Harry was on. The cushions were stiff against my back as I tried to settle in them. Eventually, I just sat with my back straight, and turned to face this curious stranger.

I felt a bit uneasy; I had never let anyone hear about my dreams. If I had any friends at school, I might've told them, but I was the odd one out. I was the one with the scars. After an odd silence, I began to read with a slight shaky and nervous voice.

At the first few words, Harry's eyes widened, as if he knew what this was, but I didn't stop. As I continued reading, I stuttered a few times, as I usually did when I read them. But when I was reading, "She fell to the ground without any struggle, at one flash of green light, and the words, 'AVADA KEDAVRA!' " I closed my eyes tight. A tear struggled to make its way through, and fell down my cheek, and onto my palm. I quickly wiped it away, and continued reading, trying to make it like that I hadn't cried.

When I finished, I said, "That was my dream last night, I woke up this morning and wrote everything down. Do any of you know what it means?" I looked at all of them, but Harry for a few seconds more. He was the boy in the dream, so he had to know something, right?

Just as I expected, Harry spoke and said, "I know, but can I have a few seconds to figure out how to tell you this?" I nodded mutely; as I was still quite a bit shaken from the dream.

As he left the room, I leaned back a bit against the cushions (they still served no comfort whatsoever) and looked back at the pages in the journal. I turned to a random one, and just stared at the pages, not even reading. Then I noticed the date:

September 1, 2009

The date bothered me; I didn't know why, it just did. To avoid further encounters with past memories, I had decided to close the book.

All of a sudden, I heard whispering, and I looked over to the arch that was the entrance to the room, and immediately face-palmed.

"You do realize I can see you two hiding behind the arch listening to everything that was said, right?" I spoke directly to my parents, who were, in fact, hiding behind the arch, listening intently to any chance of a conversation happening.

They both emerged from their hiding spot, and guiltily looked at me with expressions that told me they heard the jist of the conversation, and didn't regret a single bit of it. They could have at least tried to hide that.

"...anything you'd like to say?" I decided to play the guilt trip card, I'd spent a majority of my life dealing with all of these problems myself, and now that they finally knew what was going on, I wanted to know how they felt, and feel bad about it.

And besides, they were spying. I don't really take that very lightly.

Now they were looking at the ground with solemn expressions of their faces. Then Jennifer looked up and said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry-no-we're sorry. We never knew…so we never could've imagined what you were going through."

She said this because they had always thought these were just regular nightmares, and because they actually had no real children of their own, they didn't know that these things don't happen to every child. Or, at least to this extremity.

"It's okay, it's not like you could've known," I said, but I was a bit upset inside. They didn't try to help me, or make me feel better; they just stood back scratching their heads stupidly. Like apes or something. Yeah, like apes.

They might've thought that saying any more would spark more anger in me, because they didn't respond.

At that moment, Harry had re-entered the room and took a deep, long breath. At the end it quivered a little bit, but I didn't feel like being rude, so I ignored it. Harry spoke in a cracking voice, "Can I speak with you alone?"

My parents promptly left the room, and he stood there awkwardly for a few moments. Waiting was agonizing, so I asked, "Are you gonna sit down?"

He chuckled at that, a dry throaty sound. But he obliged and sat down on the sofa across from me. My mind drifted off for a second, wondering, Why the seating change?

His head was in his hands, and he was letting out a stressed sigh, I worried slightly. "Are you okay?" I asked, my worry for him growing.

"Yeah, it's just hard to explain," he replied, receiving a questionable look from me. Wasn't it as obvious for him as it was in my head?

"Well, let's start with who were those people in the dream. I know the boy is you, but who are the others?" I asked, hoping for an answer with at least the slightest bit of sense.

His expression softened, and he looked at my with eyes full of dread and said, "Amelia, they were your parents."

A/N: Yup, I am gonna leave you with that. Oh, a cliffhanger! I feel so eevvviilll!

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