Prologue

Pulling the cloak tighter around her shoulders to fight of the chilling wind, the girl began to walk towards her front door. The only sound coming from her chunky heeled boot crunching fallen leaves on the sidewalk. There was little light about this time, which could be considered extremely early or late. Digging through her purse for her key, the girl failed to notice how abnormally quiet it was outside.

She did however notice the strange blue glow that her key seemed to be emitting. Unsure as to why her key was blue, she held it closer to her face so as to properly examine it. With a strange pulling sensation and faint, POP, the girl was gone. Her home no longer held that warm feeling of someone who lived there for a little over a year. Instead it held a look of abandonment, her worldly possessions long gone as well as her two beautiful cats.

When the world had finally stopped spinning she landed on the snow covered ground with a soft oomph. She was completely bewildered as to what had just happened, and unsure why there was snow on the ground. Assuming she was still in New Orleans, and it was just the first of November, it was peculiar.

The ground was hard and wet, the air dense with fog giving the area an unnatural feel. Slowly getting up, for she had begun to feel the bone chilling cold mercilessly take over, she discovered walkways. Pulling the cloak tighter around her, the girl began to walk towards what she hoped to be a village. From what the girl could see, not that she could see well, there seemed to be an entry gate. It was tall, made of iron, and seemed to surround the entire property.

Upon the start of the walk the girl had not noticed the weather. Cold bitter air blew harshly at her uncovered face. Her skin began to lose colour, her cheeks tinged red, while her full lips dried and cracked into colourless pale lines. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she began to shiver, she was in no way dressed for this weather, surely she would not, make it?

She kept going; her will was stronger than some bitter cold wind. The snow was another story. Her feet were clad in low-top grey Chuck Taylor's, legs in a thin layer of black every step she took, her foot would sink slightly into the snow, the small ice crystals soaking up her feet all the way to her mid-calf. This isn't snow, she thought, it's an obstacle to keep me from my goal.

Navigating her way to the gates, she began to slow. Her small frame shaking from the cold; her lower clothes soaked to the bone. It would be a miracle if she could survive this with minimal frostbite.

But she had to keep going, she just had to. If she gave up she would surely die. She refused to die by snow, and have her corpse eaten by some wild animal that did not hibernate in the hell she had been sent to. So, she kept going, going, and going.

It was strange for her. She had never seen so much snow in her life in one place. Sure she had seen snow, it had snowed a few times in the places that she had lived, but not on this level. This was a snowstorm, a monster of another kind. Her American southern homes knew nothing of this magnitude.

Each step of snow was an icy sharp, then numbing, pain. The snow stuck to her foot as she pulled it out, not really melting. The wind was just as aggravating; with sharp, icy, gust whipping her deep burgundy hair to and fro. Both made an everlasting icy chill set into her spine, leaving her constantly on guard.

The continuous repetition of pulling her foot from the snow, moving her body forward, and bone chilling coldness left her movements slow and erratic. The wind howled fiercely through what little trees were left by the path she was following. It was most definitely winter here, the trees hanging with dangerous icicles, while some trees were left covered with white snow. Not much away she could see a cluster of trees bunched together, blocking the wind, and a rock close by. It was an inviting stop to rest.

Unsure of how long she'd been walking, she tired easily. She didn't feel anywhere closer to any type of civilization, nor any help. She considered calling out many times before, but thought it unwise to do so.

Finally too tired to go on, she stopped by a tree and sat down. She was simply just too tired to continue on, hoping that someone would find her body before the crows ate it, drifted off to sleep. Her small body, trying to conserve whatever heat and energy it could, entered a hypothermic state.

Not long after the girl drifted to sleep, a tall man stalked into the area. He had seen the small figure of what he assumed as a child walk further and further away from the village and towards the gates of the castle. When they had stopped walking, he immediately let the headmaster know, a young child seemed to be heading toward them, but had stopped in one spot.

In response, the headmaster simply smiled his knowing smile. It seemed that his hunch was right; they would be having a visitor arriving. Simply pointing to, what seemed to be luggage and two cats, he told the tall man to go retrieve the child. As this was simply no weather to be out in alone.

Upon arriving, Severus sent his patronus to the headmaster. It seems he had been right, they were to have a visitor. However she would be tightly confined to the hospital wing for many weeks until she was properly healed. Taking out his wand he muttered a spell, and the girl was lifted onto a stretcher. Turning, his black robes billowed in the harsh wind; he stalked forward; the girl's stretcher following close behind him.

It seems Hogwarts was in for another interesting year, more dangerous than the previous. The new mysterious girl would surely cause trouble, whether she meant to or not. As for the dangerous, well Severus could not say. He knew nothing of the monster that hid in the castle. He did, however, know that they had been lucky, for now, that the petrified students had yet to be killed.


For weeks the young girl laid in the hospital wing secluded. Her bodily state of health improved each and every day, however she showed no signs of waking. Madame Pomfrey began to worry, asking Albus is they should send her to St. Mungo's for better treatment.

He did not, however, send her to St. Mungo's for treatment. Instead Albus said "Poppy, I believe that rushing this particular girl into waking, or taking her to a new environment, may impair her health more than we would ever know. No, it is best she stay here with us." With that said, the girl stayed.

Albus had a hunch just who this mysterious little girl might be. He began to plan her stay, appoint her a guardian, and find out where her real father was. It wouldn't be long before he could place her in a house, but that would have to wait till at least next year. In the meantime she would be receiving private lessons with a select few of the professors. No one must know of her existence just yet, he thought. He could only hope that this would prepare her for what would be coming.


A/N: So I had been wanting to write this story so it was at least presentable. I have changed it from the original plot so this is essentially an entirely different story. I hope you all enjoy. I would appreciate helpful and/or encouraging reviews.

-Sun